Get excited…because I am back in the online dating game! After taking a break from dating in general, recycling someone who turned out to be the exact same as he was two years ago, and finally getting closure from my last relationship, the Picky Dater is once again meeting up with complete randos with a myriad of imperfections.
First up: the 30-year-old doctor. We started talking via OKCupid and he got major points for claiming to speak French fluently, for being well traveled, and for being tall. The whole doctor thing was cool too, but I’ll be honest, I keep finding more and more that I’m probably not the most compatible with the MDs. His scruff based on his photos was questionable, but I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt because he was Canadian.
Our first date was at a creperie. He clearly didn’t do enough research on the place because it was supposed to close literally ten minutes after we got there. BUT Mr. Quebec saved the day, spoke French to the owner, and they kept the kitchen open for us. Our second date was at a swanky speakeasy-type bar, but we met first near his apartment. I was a little turned off by the fact that he had me come up to his place before we walked to the bar, but his profile said he had a dog so I was willing to be momentarily ignorant to the fact that he could easily be Buffalo Bill’s copycat (and no, I’m obviously not referring to the football team). Both dates were decent. The crepes were delicious, the bar served some really interesting concoctions, and he was overall a good and interesting guy. However, the sparks just were never there for me. Not sure if the following problems played a factor in that, but I’ll let you make that judgement.
Problem #1: Kinda Catfish
First off, let me just say that I was lured under false pretenses into the apartment of a guy whose profession is cutting open the bodies of human beings. HE DIDN’T HAVE A DOG. I asked him why he listed that in his profile and even mentioned it on our first date, and he responded, “I do have a dog; she lives with my parents in Quebec.” Ok, maybe I’ll just add to my profile that I have a boat…but it’s owned by my second cousin’s ex boyfriend.
Also, it wasn’t just the dog. While his photos were not a completely inaccurate depiction of what he looked like, they were definitely taken a few years ago because he looked a lot younger in those photos. I’m not saying that this guy looked like a grandpa, but he looked a LOT more aged than any other 30-year-old I know, so it would have been nice to have had my expectations set correctly before meeting him. But whatever, I honestly had a bigger problem with the lie about the dog.
Problem #2: Speak Up!
It was really difficult to hear this guy. I come from an Italian family where everyone is screaming, so this has never been something I’ve been good at dealing with. While I’m willing to take some responsibility for this because I know my hearing isn’t perfect, I still cannot find a justification for why I had such a problem hearing him in the creperie where zero music was playing. Also, he did this thing that at first reminded me of the pompous douchebag: almost every time that I spoke, he would zero in on me, lean in, and squint his eyes at me as if deep in thought. I originally would have listed that look as its own type of problem, but then I was told that sometimes people squint their eyes when THEY can’t hear someone very well. If you ask any of my friends, I’m sure they would agree that it probably wasn’t so much a problem with my volume as it was his ability to hear. Don’t worry, I cut this guy some slack and this wasn’t really a huge deal for me… but being picky, obviously I took note of it.
Problem #3: Bad Kisser
After our second date ended, he kissed me. And it was bad. It was like kissing a snake: his lips were pursed really tight but then he suddenly surprised me by quickly trying to slip some tongue in there…but then it was back in his sealed shut mouth before I could properly figure out how to adapt to this odd style of a prolonged goodbye kiss.
It was worse than when the anesthesiologist kissed me. Which brings me to this: why is it that the doctors I keep kissing just don’t know how to kiss? I know this brings me to a grand total of only two doctors that I’ve kissed, but since they were both bad and I also have a friend who shared the same displeasure of locking lips with a kissing-challenged doctor, I’m considering this a trend that needs some serious attention. It’s genuinely concerning to me that these types of people spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on school and countless hours in residency only to suddenly be three decades into your life without the knowledge of how to give a gal a proper kiss. I do have to commend both doctors for even going in for the kiss, since I’m sure that’s half the battle. So let’s raise awareness for this cause and help prevent these bright men from losing out on a next kiss, a next date, getting laid, or whatever it may be that they were hoping to get after what should be a magical moment.
All in all, though, it wasn’t the kiss that killed it. There just wasn’t any any chemistry there – both before and after he snake-attacked me. He asked me out again, but I had to be honest and told him something was missing.