I wouldn't date RM

You know how I don't blog about dating because it's really not fair to the dates? Someone has to really piss me off or insult me consistently before they make it onto the blog.

Well, dude from last week has crossed that line. Maybe you guys will tell me I'm being unreasonable.

One of the reasons I bring this up is that I'm grateful to RM because I'm now much quicker to recognize tone deaf behavior. I would tell RM to back off, and he would come back creepier. I would tell him that we needed boundaries, and he would nod and then present me with a pair of pearl earrings.

I don't ask that the people that I date be uber-intellectual, rhetorical superstars. In fact, I would find that tiresome. But I've dated people--including recently--where the conversation was not painful. Actually, I had a really good date with someone that I opted not to see again because we were in different places and wanted different things, but the date itself was a blast. With most of the people I date, the conversation may not be earth-shattering, but it flows. There's stuff to talk about. And I don't feel like it's work to keep it going.

With this last guy, it really was like a date with RM. Awkward staring, awkward conversation, and it's not like it had to be that way. I knew what he had had planned for the weekend, so I asked him about it. I didn't especially need to talk about what I'd done that weekend, but it occurred to me later--when I was assessing to what extent to fault the dude for the awkwardness--that he might have asked. He knew I went to see a play, might have asked what it was, how it was. Knew I'd just come off a long volunteering shift, might have asked where, etc. I might have told him it was really neat to see so many people coming to the shelter with holiday gifts. That would have propelled a conversation. I'm not saying he had to ask about me because I wanted to talk about me; I'm saying he might have asked about things he knew I'd just done, in order to have something to talk about, so he wouldn't have had to just stare at me. It was so bad that I was actually annoyed later, when he told me I was a great conversationalist. Really? Because I was doing the least I could do to talk about something so he'd stop staring at me.

Now, I understand that good people may come in awkward packages, and that people aren't at their best when they're nervous, but this was beyond the pale. And yet, when I wrote him back to say I wasn't sure I wanted to see him again but I wanted a couple of days to process to see whether it wasn't just me, because I still wasn't feeling well, after all--that might have been the time to back off and give me some space. But no: he pulled a RM; he continued to push. Where I'd have been willing to overlook the awkwardness, possibly, I was not willing to overlook the tone deaf.

And here's another thing about asking someone about themselves, and this lesson applied to RM as well: it's not purely altruistic. It's not "I'm going to be magnanimous and make it about you for now." Now, I, for one, care about what's going on in the lives of other people. I ask questions because I care. I genuinely want to know. But it's not even that. Forgive the cliche, but knowledge is power. I want to know what's going on in someone else's life before I start blathering on about something or other. If someone is healing a broken leg, I'm not going to go on about my awesome hiking trip. If someone's busy, scattered, etc., I'm probably not going to go on, period.

You may recall that RM often want to talk at the worst possible times, for small and big reasons. Sorry--this may sound petty--but when someone's just come home, by bike, from a long day at work, don't get between her and the forkful she's already lifted from her plate. If someone's concerned about something, don't waste her time.

This was what it was like living with Kevin: we hung out, we chatted, we read each other's moods. When one of us was having a bad day, we talked about that. I never went up to him when he looked upset and said, "let me tell you about my trip to Whole Foods!" I'd say, "what's up?" and he'd maybe tell me what was going on with his daughter or his basketball team or class.

Anyway, this morning, the foremost thing on my mind was baby and mommy news. I'm not going to divulge the details of my friend's situation, but for the purpose of context, it hasn't been straightforward or painless. It was increasingly on my mind as the due date approached. It was really on my mind this morning.

And no one's necessarily expected to know that... which is why it never hurts to ask what someone has going on. But it made this morning's e-mail from dude-whom-I've-already-twice-told-to-go-away even more annoying and counter-productive. I would have been more likely to listen to RM if he'd let me get some food into my body after an intensive bike ride. I might have been more receptive to dude had he maybe said something like, 'how have your holidays been?' But there was none of that. There was just a monologue about how holidays are the time for hope and second chances. But why would I want to give another chance to someone who doesn't listen and doesn't care about what might be going on in my life, even if only with regard to how receptive I might be to requests for a second chance?

What do you guys think? Am I way harsh? Asking too much? Should I be flattered/impressed by the persistence? Is this the guy that Lori Gottlieb is telling me that in a few years I'll have wished I'd opted to see again? Because if that's the case, I choose to be single-woman-with-cat. I mean, with Gracie it's also all about her, but that's to be expected. I want more from humans.