Perfectly Valid Reasons Why You Wouldn’t Want to Date Me

I’ve never really been  on a real “date” date.

I basically just went on six years of group dates with this guy and then bing, bam, boom, before I knew it, I was married. I really have no idea how it happened. I swear. It all happened so fast.

Six years in my opinion is fast. I realize this opinion, like many of my opinions on dating, may be a bit weird. I realize this but I also realize that this is in no way my fault. How am I supposed to know better?

I have the equivalent dating experience of a typical American woman from 1952. I can’t possibly be expected to know what dating is like for a normal person today.

I’ve never had to start a romantic relationship from scratch.  I’ve never been on a bind date with some guy my friend thought would be “just perfect” for me. I’ve never had a real, honest to goodness, first date full of “get-to-know-each-other” chit chat and awkward pauses.

And thank goodness for that because I would suck at it.

I know I’d suck at real dating because even typing the word “romantic” a few lines ago made me involuntarily roll my eyes. I’d feel very sorry for any poor sap who attempted to be suave and romantic on a first date with me. Actually, scratch that, I’d feel sorry for me because too much eye-rolling can be very painful. I’d probably have to leave during appetizers because I’d given myself an eye-roll-induced headache. It’d be a bad time for all involved.

In the off-chance my date wasn’t some kind wannabe Rico Suave type and instead talked like a normal, sane person, I’d probably make it to dinner. And this is where things would really fall apart.

I am not appealing while eating. I have horrid table manners, I really, truly do. I’ve tried to fix it, but it’s no use. My shoddy table manners are not from lack of trying, they’re from a lack of coordination. Food and drink will be spilled. There’s just no way around it.

In the slim chance my date is able to overlook my clumsy eating habits, my conversational skills would do him in for sure. If there is a silence (as I imagine there are in these sorts of situations), I will fill it, I will fill it with incredibly inane, stupid questions that no one should ask.

When I was a reporter this pointless noisiness of mine found a natural outlet and I could disguise it as job-related. But now that I’m not a reporter any more, I’m forced to admit that this pointless noisiness was not so much a function of the job so much as a persistent, annoying character trait.

So if questions like “What’s your top three favorite colors?” is sparkling dinner conversation, I’m set, if not, I’m screwed.

There’s also not much hope for his side of the conversation either, because as terrible as I am at asking questions, I’m also terrible at pretending to appreciate the answers. So if this poor individual actually consented to answer one of my silly questions, I would not be courteous enough to appreciate his answer. I’m terrible at pretending to think other people’s opinions are valid if they differ from my own. So that would make the conversation even more delightful.

For instance, if this gentleman answered the “three favorite colors” question with “yellow, red and orange,” I would think he was a moron. The look on my face would also make it clear that I thought he was a moron. In short, I’d be positively charming about the whole thing.

If, for some crazy, messed-up reason this sadistic individual wanted to go on a second date with me, he’d probably be out of luck anyway as I would not understand any of his leading questions on the subject. For instance, if he said something like “How about dinner Friday?” I would respond with something completely unhelpful like “I like dinner.” That poor guy wouldn’t stand a chance and don’t even get me started on any other types of flirtatious conversations, particularly of the text variety. There’s no hope for that.

I wouldn’t even know where to begin. Exactly how many times can you use a winky face emoticon in text communication before it just looks like you have some sort of virtual, facial tick? I have no idea. This is just one of the many, many things about dating I don’t understand.

Thankfully though, I’ve never been one to let a lack of knowledge of a subject stop me from having strong, and very vocal opinions about it.  As with most things I know nothing about, I will continue to act like an expert in the matter despite all of the evidence to the contrary.

Never fear, single friends, I will continue to bombard you with unsolicited, completely untested dating advice. You’re welcome, guys, you’re welcome.

Plus, as an added bonus,  you can also take solace in the fact that you won’t have to endure a date with me, you’re welcome for that too.

It’d be the worst.

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