• Wed, Jul 18 2012

Dating Hijinks: ‘I Read Some Of Your Stuff To Prep For This. You’re Kinda Freaky, Huh?’

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.

Every time I come to Colorado I am set up on a date (or two or three.) My friends and family out here are stuck on the idea that should I fall in love with someone out this way, I’ll pack up, leave my beloved NYC and move to Colorado. Colorado versus New York City? I’ll always take the latter, thank you very much, no matter how love/hate and dysfunctional my relationship is with it. I’ll never love a man the way I love that city, so even the greatest of fellas will lose that competition.

There are several problems with setting me up on a date with someone out here. For starters, if we were to line up every guy I’ve dated then threw in these Colorado boys, they would stick out like a sore thumb. I’m not saying that this is bad; I’m saying that I have a very specific taste in men, and guys in flip-flops and cargo shorts who listen to something called Guster aren’t exactly going to mesh with me. Did I mention I was the only one not in flip-flops at the Boulder farmers market this past weekend? I was traipsing around in wedge sandals, because I’m going through a fancy phase.

However, despite my reservations, I always agree to go if only to give myself fodder for something somewhere down the line. I also find people put in such a situation to be really fascinating. It’s hard to put your best face forward, and watching someone try to do so is a lot of fun.

So there I am on Pearl Street this past weekend having dinner with M, who is actually moving to New York City in September. He’s also a writer. I think we’ve already covered all the reasons why I’ll never date a writer, and if we gather up almost everyone know, they’d probably agree on the sentiments I expressed in that post. But M is a journalist, unlike myself, the essayist and broadcaster of everything.

And it’s going well! I didn’t foresee myself seeing him again while I’m in Colorado, but when he moved to the city, I thought I’d meet him for a drink or something.

But then we get to the whole writing thing. I told him I don’t know how to be a journalist, which is true, and he said it was far easier than being creative. He then commented that I’m a journalist in some ways.

“You read some of my stuff?” I asked.

“Yes, Katie sent me a few links, so I Googled more,” he said. I didn’t ask his thoughts, because that seemed weird and he’s not exactly my demographic. Instead I just smiled. “You’re pretty freaky, huh?”

“What?” I was caught very much off guard by this question of his. I racked my brain to figure out exactly what was “freaky” about me. Did he mean it sexually? Personality wise? The fact that I’m pretty damn wonky and have zero qualms about sharing that online with strangers on a daily basis? I waited for an explanation with, what I’m assuming was a confused facial expression to complement my confused brain.

“Well cock rings and one-night stands with strangers — all that.”

“I’ll have you know that I have never written about any of my one-night stands!” I exclaimed as if I was right, he was wrong, when we all know who was the wrong one. “And the cock ring piece was an honest inquiry into how people felt about them and…”

He cut me off. “Are you into water sports, too?”

I found this to be a strange turn in the conversation. “I swim, but I’ve always wanted to try water skiing.”

“I mean water sports — in the bedroom.”

“Oh. Like pee?” I asked.

“Yes,” he laughed, “like pee.”

“No, thank you.”

“Why not? I thought you were freaky.”

“I’m not freaky. A cock ring isn’t freaky and peeing is a bit freaky, so no no no!” Again my voice got a bit on the loud side.

“Well, I just assumed based on –”

“Seriously? I totally would have covered that already if that were my thing. Don’t assume.”

I didn’t ask him if that was his thing, or if he was just inquiring if it was mine, you know, because I’m so “freaky.” After a brief silence he started to talk about the nice weather we’ve been having, I yawned, looked at the time and decided I was really exhausted although it was only 10pm. I was home by 1030pm.

I’m thinking maybe I should change my last name if I’m giving off some sort of “freaky” vibe, or maybe I should just got with it, piss on a guy, write about it and embrace it. If only pee were my thing and I didn’t get stage fright when peeing in front of people, because I need a schtick and maybe that could be it.

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  • Jen

    I’m thinking if he asked you about it he’s probably into it. I mean, that’s a pretty specific thing to ask someone about. And he worked his way up to it by talking about how freaky YOU are first, so it wouldn’t seem like such a weird question.

    That’s my theory, anyway. Maybe he was just curious. (Um, no.)

  • L

    LOL!!!!

  • Starofthemag

    That would have really ‘pissed’ me off. Pun intended.

    I have a lip piercing and I can’t tell you how many times guys have assumed that they could ask intimate or sexual details of me right off the bat, a fact which I don’t entirely understand because it equates having what is essentially an earring in my lip with sexual ‘freakiness’. I get how tattoos and piercings might be seen as ‘deviant’ to a small-minded section of the population but really, I just like metal. Please don’t ask me what else I have pierced with a knowing look towards my breasts and ‘danger zone’, you creepy creepster.

    This guy assumed you must be into peeing on guys because you’ve written about an experience with a cock-ring and aren’t shy about sharing some of your dating exploits. GAH! I can’t even find the words to express how ridiculous I find that line of reasoning. He doesn’t deserve to have you pee on him, Amanda. That’s what.

    • Amanda Chatel

      Cock rings and lip piercings are ALWAYS signs of love for the piss… ALWAYS. See? We learn something new everyday!

    • BeccaTheCyborg

      When I still had my lip ring, I got that kind of creepery all the fucking time.

  • Lo

    This must mean that you share my kink, too! Right, put on the clown costume and meet me in the park with the turnips and rubber hose.

    • Amanda Chatel

      Lo! You’re on fire today with the comments! I can’t stop laughing.

    • Lo

      That’s ‘Sparklepants McAwesome’ to you, clownslave. Now, grease me.

  • Starofthemag

    I’m just returning the favor!
    I haven’t commented before about much I appreciate and often share your point of view. You strike me very much as someone I would love to know IRL although I fear that our combined super-powers would bring about the eventual destruction of all man-kind. Or just a really bad hangover. Also, I checked out your twitter briefly and would love to know why you speak French. I’m Canadian so it’s pretty much a requirement for retaining my citizenship.

    • Starofthemag

      Er, please ignore the fact that I mistakenly interpreted your comment for Lo for myself. THIS IS WHY I DON’T COMMENT.
      I make enough of a fool of myself in person, let alone in front of strangers on the internet.
      Please also ignore how blinded I am by my own sense of humour that I assume other people find me hilarious enough to remark upon.

      I’m going back to my homework now.

    • Amanda Chatel

      Haha! But I did comment on your comment also! Lo has been all over the place today with these whacky tidbits — sort of like how you’re running around playing copy editor to avoid homework.

      I do agree that there are some commenters I would kill to meet in person so as to wreck havoc on humanity… so if you ever find yourself in NYC do let me know.

      As for the French thing, I am French and my grandparents spoke it. I’m not as fluent as I should be, but I try to practice as much as possible. I also tend to tweet in French things that I’d like to say to a particular jackass. Outside of “je suis une baguette” he doesn’t know French, so it’s my passive aggressive way of rambling… or being melodramatic… or both.

  • Sabrina

    Hmmm this smells a little like that SATC episode where Carrie was dating the politician and she told him she didn’t want to pee on him and he followed up by saying her writing was all about sex. And then, she wrote about it. Love it!

    • Amanda Chatel

      I know! That’s all I kept thinking about… in fact, whenever I look at Roger Sterling on Mad Men, that’s all I can think about since he played that pee-happy politician.

    • Lisa

      Same here, Amanda! I can’t watch Roger Sterling on Mad Men without thinking of the peeing episode on SATC, hahaha. Glad to know I’m not alone in this! :)

  • holleeta

    I feel like the freakiest women are usually the ones you never suspect.

    He totally wanted your pee on him.