I mean, what the fuck?
I have looked at him like 200 times. I made eye contact. I stared at him, which even made me uncomfortable. Maybe that was it? Ya. That was the deal breaker. Maybe I shouldn’t have given him the psycho-girl-stare-down. I should have kept the Resting Bitch Face. But for fucksake, what else is a girl to do? I’ve been sitting here in this Starbucks for three hours, and nothing. Y’all know, I went off the dating sites, right? So I am basically left solo to meet men the old fashioned way. In person. Ya, you heard me! I actually have to meet a guy at a public place! How the hell do people do this crap? Doesn’t he notice me noticing him? It’s so obviously-obvious. I flipped my hair! I threw back my head. I smiled that half-smile I used to use in 1998. For goddess sake….Look at me.
I have no game.
How is this possible?
The Jennifer Hurvitz Weintraub has NO GAME?
Shit. I don’t. I can’t get a guy without a fucking keyboard in front of me! Let me tell you, it’s not easy. I’m used to being able to think before speak; edit my thoughts before I push send. DELETE. DELETE DELETE my mistakes. This is impossible. I don’t have the emojis to explain my every emotion. My feelings. I can’t shoot a winky-face with a heart coming out of it’s mouth across the room! Wouldn’t that be awesome? Look, Mr. ClearyIntoMe…INCOMING!!!!! And then I hurl a giant-sized SMILEY FACE across Starbucks!! And it hits him right in the face! And he goes down! OMG. I am dying. I’m laughing so hard the guy next to me thinks I’m an idiot. But really! I see this on the sitcom. It’s totally in a thought bubble above my head. I’m like picturing it like it’s on tv. And cut!
And then there’s the eye contact, which I’m so not used to. I’m used to texting with a guy for at least a week, before meeting him. Getting to know him before I sit down across the table. He has a whole slue of information about me prior to our date. This guy across the room, he doesn’t know jack shit. He just sees me, sitting here…typing. Or drinking my coffee. The guy on Match, he already knows what to order me when he gets here! He knows my drink. He knows my favorite color. He even knows my favorite position. On politics, y’all. Jeez. Do you get it? It’s so majorly fucked up! This Cyber Dating World we live in now… nothing is left to the imagination. The Art of Conversation is lost in translation. The entire thing blows chunks. Big Emoji poop sized chunks. I so wish I had that shit-emoji right now. Plop.
Or there’s the Intimidation Factor. I think guys are just nervous! I would be, too. It’s hard to approach a woman at a bar, or a coffee place. Or at the watering-thingy at the office. I don’t know what that water-thing is, I don’t work at an office. But you meet at it right? Or is that a crock? Whatever, it just can’t be easy for a man to ask a girl out. I know, I’m not going up to some guy and asking him out. Or sending him a drink at a bar. I remember one time, me and my sister were at Cameron’s in Detroit. And this man sent us drinks. Well, my sister went fucking ape-shit! She said, “Excuse me, sir! But WE are MARRIED!” (For the record, I wasn’t married) But she said it, just like that. I was like, Julie! He’s just being nice! But she wouldn’t have it. Haha. Poor guy, didn’t stand a chance. I think girls in general can be downright nasty, and put-offish. Guys, just get your phones and start texting. Godspeed.
Wait! Shut your pie-holes, he’s looking at me! I’m going to pretend I don’t see him, and look down. He’s walking over here…and he is totally going to talk to me! This is it, people!! MY BIG SHOT! Yes! Annnnd, no. He’s going to take a piss. A piss. Emptying his bladder is more important than me? Do they have an emoji for that? Someone needs to make a bladder emoji. With a line through it. Like NO PISSING. And I clearly need to stop writing this blog. ;)
Tags: cyber dating, dating after divorce, divorce, the truth hurvitz