Dating Outlook

It seems every time I turn around, somebody has “someone in mind� for me. Matchmaker after matchmaker can’t wait to share the good news about how she’s found “the one� for me. In “Dating for Dummies,� Dr. Joy Browne elaborates on the good and the bad about being set up.

“The less strange the stranger you’re finding to date, the easier and more comfortable the early stages. People you both know and trust are a great bridge. Whom can you trust more than your friends, your mom, or your ex (assuming that you two are still friendly)?

Friends: Fix-ups are good news/bad news. On the good side, your friends presumably wouldn’t fix you up with Jack (or Jackie) the Ripper and they probably know you well enough to know what you like. On the bad side, they would want to know details, may choose sides, and will likely be miffed if you don’t treat their friend right, don’t come up with the details or don’t spend as much time with them as you used to because you’re seeing the friend. All things considered, fix-ups are often worth the risk of somebody knowing your business, especially if your friends are perceptive and know cool people.�

So far, my friend fix-ups have been discreet and have actually been pretty decent matches—good looking, usually good personalities…no long term potential yet but nobody’s ruling it out…

“Exes: Allowing your ex to fix you up with someone can be a bit dicey (after all, an ex with an ax to grind can come up with a doozy of a loser). On the other hand, who knows ya, baby? Whether you agree to such a fix-up or not probably depends on the comfort of the break0up. If it was super icky, you’re probably not speaking anyhow. But if your ex is still a friend and other signs seem right, go for it. If your split-up was marked by scream fests and flying fur, and you still refer to each other as “The Bitch� and “The Bastard,� my advice is to politely decline.�

Pretty sure being set up by an ex would be a no-go for me. My longest boyfriend to date has made it clear he still plans on marrying me—or at least being at my wedding, if it isn’t to him… Setting me up on a date? Can you say sabotage?

“Relatives: Isn’t it fascinating what people who love us think we’ll love? This outlet has all the problems of a friend fix-up with the added problems of gossip and the inability to ever go home for Thanksgiving if it doesn’t work out. On the other hand, presumably they do love you and will have to answer to your mom if they come up with a real loser.�

My mom actually is one of the best matchmakers I know. Three of the couples she’s set up have exchanged vows. She’s got impeccable taste too… maybe I should be putting her to work on this…

My phone blips. Curious, I open it to see what text message awaits. It’s from G, the guy I’ve been sort-of seeing for about two months. I say “sort-of� loosely because every time we hang out, I seriously think that we’ve finally crossed the border into the point of no return. That is, the realm of being “just friends.�

Despite my convictions about most men not understanding what it really means to be “platonic,â€? I guess I just assume that because he doesn’t try to kiss me or even put his arm around me for that matter, I figure I’ve morphed into one of his buddies who just happens to have a vagina and somehow I’ve invariably become “one of the guys,â€?—a role to which I’m not unfamiliar. Maybe it’s just felt a little too inconsistent to be anything more than “friends.” It’s been two weeks since our last date and since then, we’ve hung out with his group of friends quite a bit…guys and girls.

Conversations include how he’s typecast me as “innocent Iowa girl,� how much he enjoys Honduras and his ardor for San Diego.

“Can I take you out to dinner this week?� …What? It’s Saturday night. He’s out of town—up north visiting friends at Cal Poly. He’s hasn’t been able to stop talking about how much fun he’s planned on having up there tonight. “Fun.� Whatever that is. Besides dancing after downing a carafe of sangria a couple of weeks ago, I don’t know that I’d categorize any of the times we’ve hung out as really being “fun.�

Honestly, I thought I’d be the last thing on his mind. If roles were reversed, he’d be the last thing on mine. Is that blunt? I guess internally I keep daring him to make a move. Maybe this is it…

I was zoned out…and driving. Never a good combination. I was about to turn left into Von’s when I realized I’d miscalculated how close the median actually was. Without even looking behind me, I swerved to the right and proceeded to the stoplight. To my left, turning past me through the intersection, was a cop.

And to my amazement and shock, it wasn’t just any cop…but The Cop, who I dated about six months ago. Upon his graduation out of the academy, he was assigned to patrol not only the area I in which I work, but my neighborhood I live in as well. Perfect.

Thankfully, he didn’t pull me over. He must not have noticed my little indiscretion. Luckily, I don’t think he noticed me at all. Part of me wishes I could say the same about him. Truth be told, I about peed myself.

We’ve talked once since we stopped seeing each other. Apparently he has a girlfriend. The running gossip is that they can’t stand each other so they have a lot of makeup sex. The perfect glue to an imperfect relationship.

Rumor has it he’s been asking about me. Huh. Flattering. Even if it’s wrong, it feels like sweet revenge. Sure, it’s silent and immobile—but it’s just the thing a girl needs to hear sometimes. When for months I wondered if what I felt was really unrequited or if there actually was something there, it’s a nice reassurance that I’m not a total chump. There’s something oddly satisfying—not to mention ego-boosting— about actually hearing the hearsay and finding out that someone isn’t quite as over you as you once thought.

It’s no secret that most men do not understand the concept of being “friendsâ€? –and only! friends– with the opposite sex.

Right now I think I’m stuck–and stupidly, I keep thinking that every time G and I hang out, it will be the last time.

He can’t really think we can milk any more drops out of this “friendship� or whatever the hell it is, right? On my end, this cow is bone freakin’ dry. Make up your mind man. Or at least give me a clue as to what you want out of your last two (three? Is it three?) months you’ve got left before you go half way across the world to get your Master’s.

Do you want to keep doing what we’re doing? Which is a whole lot of you asking me to meet up with you… If it’s just the two of us, you insist on paying. If it’s with your real friends, the girls are territorial (guilty as charged, I do it too I’m not judging) and the guys hit on me or straight up ask me out, such as S. And…pretty sure you don’t have a clue about that. Which I confess, I actually think is a little funny. Because S is less than subtle.

So we can keep doing what we’re doing… which is pretty much nothing. Or I can start dating your friends. Which would probably make me a bad person. Or you could make a move and we could see if we do in fact have any chemistry and see if this goes anywhere—don’t worry, I promise I won’t get too attached, I’m a commit-o-phobe, remember?

So I have this friend, K. K is 25. She’s a SoCal original – Tall, strawberry blonde, blue eyes. And a virgin—in the most innocent sense of the word. To the group’s knowledge, K has kissed one boy. That was in eighth grade.

Don’t get me wrong, K is great…but the poor girl has got standards that are out of this world, not to mention higher than her…

Mr. Perfect has to be taller than her, he must be intelligent, “hot�—per her discretion, have a nice body, he must be sweet, he’s content with waiting for her until they’re married, his favorite drink is coke and rum, he volunteers at the humane society, his favorite tortilla chip must be Doritos BBQ cheddar, he plays rugby, he swing dances and he absolutely must be familiar with all seven seasons of The Golden Girls.

I get it. She wants to find Mr. Right. But what really kind of sucks is that she doesn’t spend time with straight men. Ever. Saying she’s playin’ it safe is an understatement. She’s delusional. She’s in a female and gay man infested time warp and still thinks she’s ripe and seventeen and acts as if this dream man is going to come waltzing up to her (parents’) front door and they’re going to ride off into the sunset on a white stallion to start their fairy tale together.

She’s so preoccupied with ripping apart every guy she meets that she’s never going to give a slew of great guys a chance. What’s more is she won’t have the priceless benefits of experience that inevitably come by doing the dirty work and sifting through enough toads to really appreciate the right guy when he does come along…

Okay, I’m back. No more fires. No more moving. And just when I thought my dating life was beginning to fizzle, along came drama.

So, readers what does it mean when a man takes me out on dates—real dates—at least I think they’re dates… but introduces me as his “friend� to his friends?

Where is the line drawn that makes two people more than friends? Does it get past the “friends� stage a little more after each time he continues to ask me out?

Scenario: I’ve been casually seeing G for about a month. We’ve had fun. No sparks flying wild into the night, but it’s been fun. So last week after dinner we go out to a bar to hang out with some of his friends. We dance to big-hair-band 80s music and it’s a good time. I was being my sarcastic and brutal self to one of his friends, S—who was giving it right back, and then asked for my number.

In this situation, what is a girl to do? I don’t know if I’ll be spending much time with this group in the future. It’s kind of a double edged sword. If I don’t give him my number, he’ll write me off as a bitch or a tease or… ? If I do give him my number, that creates complications with G, who takes me out on dates, but introduces me as his “friend.â€? Feelin’ a little stuck…

What the hell is a “friend� who gives away free dinners and drinks anyway? Just a nice guy? I doubt it.