Jay’s profile was great – funny, sarcastic, witty, smart. Me likey. According to his photos, he was decent looking with a normal build. We exchanged a few emails and then spoke on the phone. On the phone, he was hilarious. An awesome sense of humor goes a looooong way with me. We arranged to meet at a halfway point – a moderately priced Mexican restaurant in Manhattan Beach. I sat with my margarita as he approached. Well…his pictures didn’t lie…exactly. Jay had a honker you could park a truck in. Wow. Amazing how the right camera angle (exactly straight-on) could completely mask this. While his shnoz was disproportionately large for his face, it really didn’t matter to me. Really! He had a nice smile and quite a cute face. The beak was acceptable. What wasn’t acceptable was Jay’s obvious self-consciousness. On the phone, he was cool, confident and witty. In person, his was uncomfortable and appeared to wither before my very eyes. I could only assume it was because of the honker. One could say he saw my reaction to his nose but - I swear I did not grimace or recoil upon its arrival – I swear! We sat down for dinner and had a nice conversation but, talk about someone uncomfortable in his own skin! It was painful to behold. Now, one has to wonder…if there is some physical feature that you loathe and is correctable by surgery, wouldn’t the person correct the offending natural glitch? Personally, if I had giant nose that I hated and if money were an issue – I would work three jobs until I had the cash to fix it. Granted, I was assuming Jay’s discomfort was because of the nose – he had no other reason to be self-conscious – why wouldn’t he correct it? So anyway, dinner was finished, the check came and Jay paid. I don’t customarily offer to “go Dutch” unless I feel certain the date was a complete dud which, in my opinion, it wasn’t. He walked me to my car. “So, would you like to go out again?” Jay asked. Surprised by this (not too many men go for the gusto like that), I replied with a smile “Yes”. Then he surprised me even more by saying, “Do you mean it or are you just saying that?” I was taken aback. Was this the Shnoz talking? I stammered “Uh…yeah”. The insecurity of this question coupled with his body language (hands in pockets, shoulders down, looking at the ground) spoke volumes. This time, I was “just saying that”. Let’s face it, insecurity isn’t attractive.
The next day, Jay called. He asked if we could go out again. I had already made up my mind that I didn’t want to. I tried to be gentle. I took the honest approach (big mistake). “I don’t think so, Jay. You’re a really nice guy and so funny and interesting but, it just seemed like you were very insecure.” Ouch? I continued with what I call “the coach-approach” (patent pending). “You really shouldn’t feel insecure. You have a lot to offer and you have a great personality.” I know, I know. Don’t say it. This was a bad move but honestly, I wanted to help. He mumbled something about not being insecure. We hung up and I felt rightfully guilty. The last thing I want to do is hurt someone’s feelings.
The next day Jay sent me an email. He said I was one of those women who went out on dates to get a free meal. No, I’m not joking. To endure the stress of what is essentially a blind date – just to get fed? Seriously?
This story is from about 7 years ago. I have since learned (in my extensive dating travels!) that there are in fact, women who do this. I’ve heard tales from men of women that insist on going to expensive restaurants and then order the most expensive thing on the menu. I’ve heard this over and over again. Maybe it’s just one woman in L.A. County giving us all a bad name – but I don’t think so. It is this incident that has inspired some loose policies of mine: 1) Offer to meet for coffee, every time. If he offers a restaurant – then it’s his idea, his dime. 2) Shit-can the honesty. It hurts. I’m not being helpful.
