Date with a Philosopher

I had a date with someone I liked today: a philosopher who teaches at a university in the city. He was sane, smart, pleasant-looking, well-spoken, carried on a reasonably interactive conversation, lives in my general neighborhood, and had so much in common with me that it would be criminal not to pursue it. We are both writing books this summer, and talked about that. Yes, I could see myself doing more of this.

The downside: he didn't smile at my jokes or show much humor at all -- quite serious. You could say that comes from being a philosopher, but to the contrary, those I've known have been a laugh a minute, or at least appreciate the absurdities of life. At one point I asked if women make assumptions about him because he teaches philosophy, and told him that many men lamely joke, when they hear I teach English, that well, they'd better watch their grammar in front of me, apparently not realizing that 1,000 others have said the exact same thing. But he didn't give me the I-know-what-you-mean smile I can usually count on from other teachers. In general there was little affect. I don't know what this says about him, or his reaction to me.

Then too, when we parted there was no indication at all that he was flirting with me or wanted to go any further. Impulsively I said that we really should get together again, based on all our many commonalities, in my semi-ironic tone that is a cover for anxiety. He seemed distant, murmured something I didn't quite get. That made me fear I'd been pushy, so I added, "Um, I mean if you want to, I don't want to push you if you don't..." and he snipped, "It's okay, I can take care of myself". I suppose he meant that he won't go out with me if he doesn't want to. That's rational, but not what I wanted (or as a linguist would say, not what my speech act was really about). Of course I was looking for reassurance. Duh. And you'd think by now I'd have figured out that when I push for reassurance from men, I almost never get it.

So maybe I should have let him take the reins on suggesting we meet again. But then, why does it always have to be the man who must suggest this?

Well, he's not the only fish in the sea, apparently: there is a tentative date with another good-sized salmon lined up for Saturday, and two more in the pipeline. I notice I'm starting to put on pounds from all this date-eating. At the end of this blog I may wind up with no man and a thicker waistline.