Blown Off vs Blown Away

Somehow I managed to get myself committed to three dates in the next four days. This may sound exciting, except that I don't much want to see any of them, except maybe B, the guy from the Upper East Side whose wife is in a nursing home and is efficient on the phone. I'm beginning to appreciate that quality enormously.

Of the other two, tomorrow is A, the very first guy I spoke to, who sounded, if you remember, rather odd, and the remaining one is G, who contacted me recently. G has a pleasant face, sent a flattering email suggesting dinner at a place of my choice, and best of all, volunteered to come somewhere near my neighborhood, contrasting nicely with C, who clearly thought meeting me in Manhattan was an imposition. So in spite of misgivings, I impulsively set up a meet-and-greet for today.

The misgivings about G were based on his work history -- he's a businessman, has owned a men's suit store, and done other business-y things. I've never yet dated a businessman (or scientist, for that matter) who has the same sensibilities I do. But in the spirit of Broadening the Scope, I suspend my disbelief.

Except it turns out that G did not invite me to dinner. After numerous confusing emails involving a link I sent him to a cool restaurant where we could have a glass of wine and tapas, it turns out that wasn't what he meant at all. This was revealed when he asked "what kind of place" I had suggested, even though I'd sent him the website so he'd see the address. "It's a restaurant where can have a glass of wine and tapas," I wrote. He wrote back, "But I said I'd take you to a diner. I want to go to a diner." Had he said that? I found the email he'd sent, and sure enough, it said, "I'd like to meet you and take you to a dinner, you choose the place." Now, I did think that dinner at 2 pm (the time he wanted) was peculiar, but hey, what ISN'T peculiar about this whole process? Besides, I wasn't up for dinner with a complete stranger myself, so I didn't think about it. After we got past this misunderstanding, we agreed we'd just meet halfway and look for a place he considers sufficiently diner-like. That was yesterday.

This morning, bright and early, he called to say that he'd "hurt his leg somehow" and would remake the date next week. I can't say how glad I was.

I'm detailing this trivial event because it illustrates an important principle in this online dating business, if not in life. How do we come to judgements about people (not to mention situations) with little actual knowledge? It's becoming more and more clear to me that we pick out a few details with which we have associations or previously held opinions, and then put together an imaginary narrative in which these details are signs that it will all work out fine. Or else fill in the mostly blank parts by reading the little information we have as warnings of impending doom. Interestingly, there are two books on the New York Times bestseller list today that argue 1) we should go with our guts in making decisions, and 2) we should not go with our guts in making decisions. And they sell because this question is terribly confusing in real life. People want someone to tell them, once and for all: how do I know?

So with G, I see now that I said yes to the immediate date because his relatively pleasant looks compared well with the ugliness of most available men I've been seeing online, like, say, F; because G's willingness to travel from his neighborhood closer to mine contrasted nicely with the humiliating reluctance of C; and last, because of his flattery, evidence of good taste in women. But then the email exchange revealed that he can't spell, that he couldn't read a link to a restaurant, and that it's important to him to meet a woman in a diner (why? because women will expect him to pay for a meal in a restaurant? because it's too much a commitment of time?). All this adds up in my little mind to not-my-kind-of-guy. Plus, remembering that he sells men's clothing, my cultural snobbery takes over and kills it completely. Hey, I'm an educated, cultured, intellectual woman!

But is this a character defect of mine, or just pragmatism? You can't date everyone, even with the Broad Scope principle. The fact is that people, old, young, gay, straight, and everywhere, tend to couple with others just like them, except in the occasional movie. You don't want to keep correcting the spelling of d-i-n-e-r in your head when you do that for a living.

Except -- and in real life there's always an "except" -- one of those men previously referred to whom I truly loved was completely wrong on paper, had only a year of college, lived the kind of life I would never go near. Yes, in the end it probably did us in, but what a ride we had. He had other, wildly attractive qualities that 99%of the men whose resumes are compatible with mine don't have. So take that, rational decision-maker.

It's just that the above doesn't really help me to know what to do in this situation.