• Wed, Dec 21 2011

Dating Hijinks: The Sensitive Ponytail Man

On Wednesdays, Amanda Chatel will be sharing stories about her strange, fascinating and sometimes wonderful dating life. If it makes you want to date, check out TheGloss dating page. 

To be honest, Colin had cut off his ponytail a couple weeks before our date; a fact he told me as he nervously pushed the invisible hair behind his ear. He had decided he was too “grownup” for such a hairstyle and since he had just moved to NYC to start a new life, he snipped it and donated it to Locks of Love. Yes, this meant he had quite the long ‘do before we had met; and honestly, I would not have found myself on a date with him if he still had it. My love for long hair died with Kurt Cobain, and his hair wasn’t very long at all.

Colin was a friend of a co-worker who would meet this co-worker for lunch a couple times a week. Being the Office Manager, I would exchange a few pleasantries with him as he waited on the couch for my co-worker to leave his office. Colin was slightly funny, moderately shy and although far shorter than fellas I’d normally date, I accepted to meet him for drinks.

The adjective “sweet” for Colin is a vast understatement. In fact, “cloyingly sweet,” also falls short of an accurate description. I knew he had recently ended a relationship–hence the move to a new city–so as he laid on the thick layers of sweetness, I couldn’t tell if it stemmed from his true self or simply loneliness. He was overly complimentary; everything I said was the most genius thing that apparently had ever been said, and every gesture I made, even the slightly movement of my napkin against the bar, was followed by a “I really love that about you.” Interesting sentiment considering he didn’t know anything about me.

As the date evolved, he pulled himself closer and closer to me, even at one point asking if he could warm his hands between my legs. He did not mean this as a sexual advance because, as he told me,  he completely respected me and all women, but rather the longing to be close to me “burned intensely.” I half expected him to recite some poetry at that point, but he stopped there, and I crossed my legs, denying him my thighs as a makeshift heater.

I am not a touchy-feely person by nature. I reserve what limited touchy-feely ways I have within me for family and very close friends. You’re not about to see me snuggle up against a stranger unless I’m drunk, have passed out and have mistaken them for a pillow. So when Colin didn’t take the hint and leaned into me so he could wobble his chin into my shoulder as we sat next to each other at the bar in some bizarre way to show affection, I all but smacked him for being so cheesy. While some women may have found this endearing or the sign of a “keeper,” I was slowly getting more and more sick to my stomach as I explained that I have this thing called personal space and he asserted that he just wanted to feel the heat “radiating” from my body on to his. I turned my head so he couldn’t catch me rolling my eyes.

It was when he nuzzled his face into my armpit (yes, my armpit), while telling me he was considering becoming a masseuse so he could heal stressed out people, that I had to call it a night. I asked for the check telling him I had an early morning, and he asked to come over so we could cuddle. I don’t cuddle; OK, maybe I do, sort of, but it’s definitely not the type of cuddling this ridiculous love bug may have wanted.

The thing is had he not been so over the top in his need to try to impressive me with how much he respected me and wanted to be near me, I could have considered going out with him again. But there’s just something too nauseating about a man who spends a decent amount of the night explaining why the vagina is the most powerful thing in the world–again, not sexually, but because this self-proclaimed feminist, sensitive, former ponytail man believed it to be so.

We spoke on the phone a few times after that and I tried my best to put my jaded self away and agree to see him again, but I just couldn’t. And once the excuses not to see him became more than obvious (“You’re not going to believe this, but my sister just showed up at my door and is staying here for a month and since her boyfriend broke up with her, I need to be at her side every night!”), he stopped calling.

I’m sure Colin found love fairly soon after that though. From what I’ve gathered from my girlfriends, some ladies eat that shit up. And whoever that woman is I’m sure every time she has her period, he goes out, picks up chocolate, the extra-absorbent tampons, and massages her lower back until she falls asleep. I buy my own chocolate and tampons, and my massager has batteries; that’s my idea of romance.

Looking for your own sensitive ponytail man? Of course you are! And TheGloss dating page is where you’ll find him.

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  • Luv-e-duv

    guess this lady is going to die alone she has no sense of romance, is cynical and jaded just reading this broke my heart and made me want and shoot my self