Um, I think I have a problem. Admittedly, I am a tad bit tipsy right now, so perhaps it's not the best time to write. That said, I just got back from a going away party for my neighbor, who used to seem to fancy me. She recently found a boyfriend, with whom she is moving across the country (somewhat simultaneously, and spontaneously), so a bunch of us got together to wish them farewell. At this huge table of two dozen people, beyond my neighbor and her new boyfriend, I had only met 1 other person in passing before this dinner. He, of course, was sitting as far away from me as possible in our seating configuration. This meant I had to do the unthinkable: I had to talk to strangers.
For those of you who know me, I can pretty much talk to anyone, but truly dread being in situations where I may not know folks. I'm *not* one of those people who goes up to strangers at a show or a bar and starts chatting them up. No. But I will politely engage if someone volleys a line of conversation my way. I'm good with asking insightful questions – it's the getting comfortable part that's tricky for me.
Anyway... I arrived a few minutes after everyone else sat down, so I had to politely accept the only open seat. It was next to a woman who lobbed a few comments my way. Overflowing with niceties, I tried my best to be sociable to these unfamiliar faces. This woman next to me kept going. I had to push myself past the smidge of discomfort to try to actually get to know this newbie sitting next to me. What I found out: Her name (Julie), her job (grant writer at the Jewish Community Center), her religion (Jewish), her diet (observes Kosher Law, and often eats vegetarian food to simplify meat with dairy conflict), is from "all over" (via: Midwest, high school in New Hampshire, college in Iowa), lives in Virginia, has been in the DC metro area for 5 years since graduating from school. Riiiight.
I tried to be polite. I tried to ask questions to other folks sitting at our end of the table. Namely, the guy sitting top her right. Apparently her fiance... Huh. He didn't seem particularly interested in me. Go figure. He'd sort of answers my questions with a brief, staccato response, and try to but back in to some other, more titillating conversation. But his fiance kept right on asking. Awkward.
It was somewhat strained for me, trying to be on my best behavior, and all the while, feeling watched by her man, and my neighbor. It felt a bit incriminating. Or better said: I felt a bit guilty.
See, I've been in this position before. I've innocently befriended women thinking we could "just be friends." Even if nothing 'happened,' it often interfered with the other relationships we might have been in at the time. (One woman dumped her long term boyfriend so we could move to the west coast together. Another woman dumped her boyfriend right after they moved in together. I don't want to be interference anymore. It's disrespectful of whatever connection existed before "we" met, and frankly, I don't want to be with someone who may feel distracted, or conflicted about being with me. I've been there, and it's no fun. But...
It felt kind of tough meeting this woman who wouldn't stop talking to me, as she was totally my type: Jewish, fiery, worked for a non-profit fighting the good fight, funny as hell, and apparently taken. Sad to think that might be one of the ingredients for being "my type." Sigh~
I asked the engaged couple about their wedding to come, and how they met to try to diffuse my attention. The guy stepped up and shared the story of how they came to date. He said that when they met she "had a little problem." Instantly I assumed it was coke, or meth... Maybe she was an alcoholic with a shopping addiction. Suddenly, she seemed even hotter! But no, her "problem" was the fact that she already had a boyfriend when she met her now fiance. Oh... , So, she dumped *that* boyfriend to start dating this guy??? Okay, don't get excited about that fact, as though it's the beginning of a pattern. And whatever I do, don't imagine her being a run-away bride at the altar to come running after me... Don't do it, buddy – just let it go.
Yet another woman residing across from me at our end of the table proceeded to ask: "So, like, what's up with your glasses?" I asked if there was an actual question in there that she'd like me to answer. She replied, "I mean, are you like a hipster, or something?!?" It took every ounce of restraint I had (after the many cocktails I'd already imbibed) to not launch into publicly teasing this dud of a guest. Luckily my amour de jour was out of ear shot when this went down. I was safe. Fucker.
Many of the folks from the dinner party were heading out to a bar for the second portion of the farewell celebration. I had to call it a night, since I've been fighting the battle against an emerging cold coming on, and I had to get up early the next morning. As I said goodbye to many of these strangers, we all sort of knew we'd probably never see each other again with the one friend in common moving to LA. But when this woman and I said goodbye, we both said we'd get each others' info from said common friend, and we'd keep in touch. I put out my hand for a hand shake (um, yes, I am a total and complete dork), and she looked down quizzically, and leaned in for a hug. Oh, okay, we're hugging now? We're friends that hug? I'm cool with that.
I drove home shaking my head at my behavior, that I somehow managed to have the only fully taken woman at the party hit on me. Awesome – I still got it! I'm still an asshole! This added to the fact that I spend hours a week chatting away during home visits for a client who just had a baby with her busy lawyer of a husband, it seems so incriminating now that I pass as a dude. Even though I have come to learn that it's maybe not so appropriate for me to be this emotionally available to women who are spoken for – when I try to slink away politely, it just seems to add to their attempts to get me to open up.
Then, mid sentence, I begin to realize that our level of connection might seem disrespectful to their other halves. I'm now some guy hanging around, cracking jokes and seeming mysterious by default. (That one client repeatedly told me the other day how funny she thinks I am. She said sometimes she'll be sitting there in the midst of some project, and randomly remember some witty one liner I threw her way days before, and she'd erupt with spontaneous laughing out loud. It's a sweet compliment, but one that obviously makes me nervous, given my guilty history.)
I swear, I'm trying to be on my best behavior, and not wreck any more relationships than I already have in my impulsive, passionate past. I'm really trying to be good, respectful, and mindful about how the rules have changed for me since my old gender switch-a-roo. Less like a seductive sweet talker, and more like an aloof CPA. But that *still* seems to reel them in... I can't win! When did accountants with social anxiety, dodgey eye contact, and a mild stutter become sexy? It must be the damn pheromones! Arg!!!
Somebody help me!
For those of you who know me, I can pretty much talk to anyone, but truly dread being in situations where I may not know folks. I'm *not* one of those people who goes up to strangers at a show or a bar and starts chatting them up. No. But I will politely engage if someone volleys a line of conversation my way. I'm good with asking insightful questions – it's the getting comfortable part that's tricky for me.
Anyway... I arrived a few minutes after everyone else sat down, so I had to politely accept the only open seat. It was next to a woman who lobbed a few comments my way. Overflowing with niceties, I tried my best to be sociable to these unfamiliar faces. This woman next to me kept going. I had to push myself past the smidge of discomfort to try to actually get to know this newbie sitting next to me. What I found out: Her name (Julie), her job (grant writer at the Jewish Community Center), her religion (Jewish), her diet (observes Kosher Law, and often eats vegetarian food to simplify meat with dairy conflict), is from "all over" (via: Midwest, high school in New Hampshire, college in Iowa), lives in Virginia, has been in the DC metro area for 5 years since graduating from school. Riiiight.
I tried to be polite. I tried to ask questions to other folks sitting at our end of the table. Namely, the guy sitting top her right. Apparently her fiance... Huh. He didn't seem particularly interested in me. Go figure. He'd sort of answers my questions with a brief, staccato response, and try to but back in to some other, more titillating conversation. But his fiance kept right on asking. Awkward.
It was somewhat strained for me, trying to be on my best behavior, and all the while, feeling watched by her man, and my neighbor. It felt a bit incriminating. Or better said: I felt a bit guilty.
See, I've been in this position before. I've innocently befriended women thinking we could "just be friends." Even if nothing 'happened,' it often interfered with the other relationships we might have been in at the time. (One woman dumped her long term boyfriend so we could move to the west coast together. Another woman dumped her boyfriend right after they moved in together. I don't want to be interference anymore. It's disrespectful of whatever connection existed before "we" met, and frankly, I don't want to be with someone who may feel distracted, or conflicted about being with me. I've been there, and it's no fun. But...
It felt kind of tough meeting this woman who wouldn't stop talking to me, as she was totally my type: Jewish, fiery, worked for a non-profit fighting the good fight, funny as hell, and apparently taken. Sad to think that might be one of the ingredients for being "my type." Sigh~
I asked the engaged couple about their wedding to come, and how they met to try to diffuse my attention. The guy stepped up and shared the story of how they came to date. He said that when they met she "had a little problem." Instantly I assumed it was coke, or meth... Maybe she was an alcoholic with a shopping addiction. Suddenly, she seemed even hotter! But no, her "problem" was the fact that she already had a boyfriend when she met her now fiance. Oh... , So, she dumped *that* boyfriend to start dating this guy??? Okay, don't get excited about that fact, as though it's the beginning of a pattern. And whatever I do, don't imagine her being a run-away bride at the altar to come running after me... Don't do it, buddy – just let it go.
Yet another woman residing across from me at our end of the table proceeded to ask: "So, like, what's up with your glasses?" I asked if there was an actual question in there that she'd like me to answer. She replied, "I mean, are you like a hipster, or something?!?" It took every ounce of restraint I had (after the many cocktails I'd already imbibed) to not launch into publicly teasing this dud of a guest. Luckily my amour de jour was out of ear shot when this went down. I was safe. Fucker.
Many of the folks from the dinner party were heading out to a bar for the second portion of the farewell celebration. I had to call it a night, since I've been fighting the battle against an emerging cold coming on, and I had to get up early the next morning. As I said goodbye to many of these strangers, we all sort of knew we'd probably never see each other again with the one friend in common moving to LA. But when this woman and I said goodbye, we both said we'd get each others' info from said common friend, and we'd keep in touch. I put out my hand for a hand shake (um, yes, I am a total and complete dork), and she looked down quizzically, and leaned in for a hug. Oh, okay, we're hugging now? We're friends that hug? I'm cool with that.
I drove home shaking my head at my behavior, that I somehow managed to have the only fully taken woman at the party hit on me. Awesome – I still got it! I'm still an asshole! This added to the fact that I spend hours a week chatting away during home visits for a client who just had a baby with her busy lawyer of a husband, it seems so incriminating now that I pass as a dude. Even though I have come to learn that it's maybe not so appropriate for me to be this emotionally available to women who are spoken for – when I try to slink away politely, it just seems to add to their attempts to get me to open up.
Then, mid sentence, I begin to realize that our level of connection might seem disrespectful to their other halves. I'm now some guy hanging around, cracking jokes and seeming mysterious by default. (That one client repeatedly told me the other day how funny she thinks I am. She said sometimes she'll be sitting there in the midst of some project, and randomly remember some witty one liner I threw her way days before, and she'd erupt with spontaneous laughing out loud. It's a sweet compliment, but one that obviously makes me nervous, given my guilty history.)
I swear, I'm trying to be on my best behavior, and not wreck any more relationships than I already have in my impulsive, passionate past. I'm really trying to be good, respectful, and mindful about how the rules have changed for me since my old gender switch-a-roo. Less like a seductive sweet talker, and more like an aloof CPA. But that *still* seems to reel them in... I can't win! When did accountants with social anxiety, dodgey eye contact, and a mild stutter become sexy? It must be the damn pheromones! Arg!!!
Somebody help me!
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