Welcome to another installment of My Single Male Friend Friday. This week’s eligible bachelor is none other Date #6 (although I’ve yet to get his permission to post a photo so you’ll just have to take me word on this one: he’s cute).
You may recall Date #6 from the early days of my Great Date Experiment. We went for drinks during Center City Sips and he was kind enough to meet me for lunch a few weeks later during My Worst Date to Date.
Date #6’s real name is the same as Date #7’s (which makes things both easier and more complicated at the same time) and unlike my previous Single Male Friends, he actually lives here in Philadelphia.
Even though we never really hit it off in terms of chemistry, we’ve kept in touch. He tells me about his love life, I tell him about mine and one of these days we really are going to make it to that Saturday morning yoga class…
In the meantime, he’s exactly the sort of guy that single women despair of ever meeting: he’s gainfully employed, he owns a car and his own home, he’s “evolved” enough to consider taking yoga (yet “manly” enough to swear me to secrecy on this account) and he’s a total gentleman. He’s also incredibly strategic with his online dating– he looks up women in other cities when he goes on vacation! Now why didn’t I think of that??? Last but not least, he’s always involved in some sort of home improvement project and in a city where half the men are too metrosexual to know the difference between a Phillips and a flat head, this is a major plus.
So what’s wrong with him?
Well, by this logic, I should also be asking what’s wrong with me. I like to think that if a perfectly nice girl (me) meets a perfectly nice guy (Date #6) they should get just married and live happily ever after but as the majority of you have probably figured out by now, I like being single (this business with Date #7 notwithstanding) and chemistry is hugely important to me.
But today’s not about me. Today is about Date #6, and after we met for drinks at the Double Tree last week, I think I’m beginning to understand why he—and so many men like him—are still single: they’re too nice.
Because let’s face it ladies (and gentlemen) we don’t really want nice guys, do we? Men who send birthday cards and Valentine’s gifts and all sorts of unsolicited niceties are almost immediately dubbed “too eager” and subsequently rejected. (Having “been there, done that,” this one of those rare times when I actually know what I’m talking about).
Of course, it’s much easier to recognize overzealous behavior in someone else—or in yourself approximately six months after you’ve wasted all sorts of time and energy on mailing gifts of the thoughtful and well-wrapped variety to various corners of the world—not that I would know anything about that…
Anyway, as I sit there drinking my chocolate martini and listening to Date #6 tell me of his attempts to woo his most recent love interest, it’s all I can do to keep from blurting out the obvious.
Thankfully I don’t have to: he already knows.
Then again, we almost always already know, don’t we? Hindsight never kicks in until it’s too late—until those made-from-scratch-chocolate-meringue-cookies have already been shipped to the UK, until those stupid hand-made Valentine’s have already met with their surprised and somewhat embarrassed recipients.
I know I said I wasn’t going to talk about myself today—I’m supposed to be talking about Date #6!—but what can I say? Drinking martinis with a fellow online dater is essentially the same thing as looking into a mirror. Granted, I’m a girl and Date #6 is a guy but desperation, it turns out, is an equal opportunity employer.
(Love is blind, and all that…)
So in lieu of another question about your blog reading habits, I’d like to ask about your most desperate moments. Surely I’m not the only who spends more time at the post office than I do at the gym? (And if I am, is there at least hope for me?)
PS: A great BIG thank you to everyone who commented yesterday 🙂