Update on dating

Bisexual pride

I'm taking my 6 weekly break from RSVP (internet dating website). I seem to be able to tolerate it for short burst of time and then, as the insults to my esteem and my 'self' build up, I abandon it for a month or so.  This time I'm not going back.

I've had four dates over this last 6 weeks.

Date # 1 was with John.  48 year old John left a message on my voicemail the morning of the date to say there was the possibility that he would be able to get tickets to the rugby game that night.  He wanted to be able to schedule the date for a time that would allow him to leave me and then attend the football game.  Oooh...fair enough I thought.  We met at 3pm at a nice bar near the river with views of the city.  John turned up late and was unshaven and he was wearing the same outfit I've seen on many men at the Laidley Horse Sales - riding boots, cream coloured jeans and a maroon t-shirt with a work emblem stamped on the upper left of the shirt.  He was unshaven and lacked any enthusiasm when we met. We each had 2 drinks and in that time he managed to take and receive eight phone calls.

Date # 2 was with Simon.  I've dated Simon on and off for the last 2 1/2 years.  I fell madly in love with Simon when I first met him.  He was my second date on RSVP and we never managed to make it out of his house to go for coffee that day.  Utterly sexy with a deep drawling voice.  He broke my heart when he told me he wanted to have more children with someone and I was therefore quite incompatible with him.  Before he dumped me he asked me how much I earned.

Anyway, 47 year old Simon and I occasionally try to hit it off again when we are both single or sometimes when we're not.  We run into each other in the supermarket a lot as we live in the same suburb and we always talk for a little longer than necessary.

Simon sent me a text asking me to dinner, drinks and a movie.  Unheard of.  He normally texts me that he is lonely and asks if I am free for some "lovin".  I thought...HELLO.  Maybe he's trying to make an effort this time and maybe he's canned the stupid idea of having more children.  He really is fucked up in that regard.  So I hightailed it around to his house and we went to the local pub to celebrate his recent doctorate of something. Half way through dinner Simon looks at me and says that he hopes I'm not offended when he asks this, but "are you bisexual by any chance."  AM I BISEXUAL?

He's definitely hard work in the bedroom and has a heap of demands that centre on his nipples.  Many times I've asked myself if he's worth it.  Anyway, he said he'd never seen me in a skirt and that I don't wear much jewellery and the fact I am a feminist led him to the conclusion that I may like women as much as I like men.  I basically told Simon to fuck off and re-explained what feminism is.  He argued that feminists had gone "too far".

Date # 3 was with Mike.  Mike was 43 and we arranged to meet at a pub at 4pm on a Saturday afternoon.  When I arrived at the pub there was a band playing and Mike was running a little late.  I should have had my wits about me as it isn't normal that a man my own age has any interest in me.  The ideal woman for a man seems to be 10-15 years younger than himself.  It's rare to find a man on RSVP who wants a woman less than 5 years younger than himself, and it's just about impossible to find a man who is wanting a woman whose age rises above his own.

Mike took me into the TAB section of the pub - you know, the section of the pub that you can put money into the slot and pull a lever and 3 apples line up and hey presto, you've won $20!? This was the section with the old men, the regulars who drink there so often that at 6pm every night, sausage rolls and frankfurts get passed around for dinner by the bar staff.

Mike was really good looking.  He dressed well - besides his thongs, and he had a short beard that looked quite becoming on his wide face with (what I thought were) his kind eyes.

Mike spent the next hour supplying the majority of the conversation.  After Mike asked me if all 5 of my children were to the same man, I got stuck into the task of listening intently as Mike took me through the finer details of his lawnmowing business - how he advertises, his clientele, his equipment, his work hours, the geographical layout of his clients, his waste disposal procedures and the reasons for purchasing his car. Conversation was tedious and Mike had little to ask me after he had satisfied himself that I was above the slut bar he sets for women he dates.  I figure that if my children were all born to different men, then the date may have ended sooner.  In retrospect, I wish I'd told him they were. 

Mike did attempt to explain to me why women in third world countries have lots of children.  He thought himself a bit of an expert on the subject because he grew up in Papua New Guinea and his father was a doctor (and his mother was a missionary and his mum and dad met in Africa and his father was a paediatrician and was one of 7 children and Mike himself was an only child who went to boarding school in Sydney for high school and supposedly he had studied architecture and he had two children who lived overseas with their mother and her new husband BLAH BLAH BLAH)  He reasoned that women had lots of children, because eventually one of those children may be able to bring some money into the household.  I attempted to argue more logical reasons such as lack of education, lack of birth control, women's place in society etc, but he talked over the top of me.  God!  I couldn't stand him. 

1 hour into the date, Mike hadn't even asked me what I do for a job. He had managed however to ask me if my second beer was perhaps a bit too much if I was driving. He questioned whether I was feeling light-headed from the alcohol.  I let the conversation lapse.  He became a bit angry then and rolled his eyes at me and huffed "So, are you interested in any SPORTS then?"  It was at that moment that I took my leave.  I said that it was obvious that this was not going well.  I listened to 10 more minutes of why he thought it wasn't going badly and then I just ran.  I ran all all the way to the car.  

Date # 4 Ian
Oh God, this is a cracker.  He claimed to be 46 and he was light on detail in his profile.  He called  himself "Active 101"and his photos were taken while he was surfing, back flipping off a boat (doubt that one was him in retrospect) and parachuting.  I met him after a lot of to-and-froing regarding a meeting point.  He was desperate to meet in the Western suburbs at about 5pm.  For me that would mean battling peak hour traffic for about an hour to get the 12 km to my home in the Eastern suburbs after the date.  We agreed to meet on a Saturday night for dinner.  Bit personal for me, but I said yes.

Ian turned out to be a surgeon.  He got that in pretty early into the night.  He also happened to be good friends with all of the surgeons I work for in my current position managing a clinical trial.  He asked me if all my children were to one man.  Fuck I hate that question! Anyway, after dinner he asked me back to his apartment on the river for a coffee.  My impression was he was planning something further.  Fortunately he was unaware that I was wearing a surgical stocking as I'd had my leg veins injected about 3 days earlier.  It was going to be an early night for me no matter what. Stocking and leg dressings don't come off too easily in the heat of the moment.

Ian's apartment was lovely.  Right on the Brisbane River in New Farm with views of the Story Bridge. I estimate it would be about $2000 a week to rent. It was obviously furnished by a woman.  No man has candles in 3 different sizes arranged on a coffee table - or do they?  He treated me to coffee from some machine that took pods of flavour while I enthralled him with my experiences on RSVP.  He was new to it all so I felt the need to break him in a little.  Seems I opened up a little bit too much when told him that I initially started out on RSVP during a month long stint while my kids were with their Dad.  I dated about 4-5 men a week over that month.  Exhausting but interesting.  He was disgusted.  He smiled a weird smile and asked me how many men I had slept with from RSVP.   I took the bait and ran with it.  I told him that I'd lost count. I was starting not to like him.  We talked for about 5 more minutes and then he finished the date with "Well, I won't be seeing you again - for professional reasons.  You understand.  You must have dealt with that response a lot, given the number of men you've slept with right?"  God, I  wish I had responded to that more eloquently.  He said it with really cold, mean eyes.  Fine by me. He sent me a message about 3 days later to remind me to keep my mouth shut with my work colleagues.  His professional reputation was at stake, and I imagine he thought I needed reminding of that.  It was too late.  My immediate colleagues all knew about it. I owed them some great gossip more than I owed him the confidently clause.