Desperately Dating: If the Guy Is Perfect, How Come I Don’t Want Him?
The guy is absolutely perfect – and I can’t stand being near him.
Almost every single girl has one: A friend who is always trying to fix her up. Mine is named Cynthia, who resembles a red-headed Patti Stanger minus the collagen and millionaires. Cynthia was on yet another one of her missions of finding me a boyfriend. She recently met Ian, a tall, blonde, and ruggedly handsome engineer at one of her PETA rallies. Now, I usually do not date vegans because I love a good medium rare rib-eye once in awhile; however, I was willing to make an exception this time because I needed some male attention. Also, because Cynthia already gave him my phone number and work schedule.
Ian called me and we spoke briefly. He insisted on planning the date and refused to tell me what we would be doing. All I knew was that I needed to be ready by 9 AM on Sunday morning. I was intrigued though apprehensive, as the only things I knew that took place on Sunday mornings were church and yard sales. With total anticipation, I whipped out my beauty essentials on Saturday evening to prepare for my Sunday morning mystery date: Crest White Strips, Nair, and sunless tanning foam. After I was tanned, hairless, and had teeth you could see in the dark, I went to bed.
The following morning Ian arrived right on time. He looked like every jock I had a crush on in high school that wouldn’t give me the time of day. I immediately became intimidated. It didn’t get any better when I saw the bike rack on his car. Ian informed me we were going mountain biking for our date. Me, mountain biking??? I can’t even stay on a stationary bike. I couldn’t help but to picture me strangling Cynthia while I ran back inside my apartment to make the switch from my cute beaded sandals into my ten year-old Nikes.
After about one mile of trying to peddle my way up the mountain, I was hyper-ventilating and sweating like I was stuck in a sauna for ten hours. My tan had dripped away after the second trail. Pale and famished, I begged Ian if we could stop and take a much needed break. He agreed and pulled out two bottled waters and some Cliff bars out of his back pack. I was craving a western omelette and some home fries, but I guess his minimal offerings would have to do. We found a huge rock to sit on and Ian began to talk about himself. I don’t even think the Dalai Lama has as many credentials as Ian. He worked for the United Nations, was a member of the Peace Corps, graduated Cum Laude from Princeton, and the list went on and on. I didn’t even know how to respond. What the hell have I ever done that would possibly compare? I doubt my Employee of the Month certificate and the story of me and my BFF driving to Michigan to recycle our aluminum cans for beer money would impress him very much, so I just kept quiet and tried not to chip a tooth on the various seeds in my energy bar.
Ian actually asked me out again. I couldn’t help but wonder if he had a thing for girls who didn’t talk much and can sweat a whole pond in a matter of minutes. Even though I knew we had nothing in common, I accepted the date. This man was perfect, practically a saint. He had everything most girls dream of, looks, brains, compassion, etc. I mean, lately I had been feeling like I hit the jackpot whenever my date both had a full-time job and never had a DUI. I never knew it was possible for me to land a guy like Ian, but, now that I did, I had to make it work.
Does it get better? Did she dump him? Find out….