I’m wearing a feathered piece (found on Amazon & faux of course – although I didn’t realize that even feathers can be vegan), with red glitter lipstick (found on Instagram) that matched my Dorothy red sequined shoes (Dorothy is my actual middle name).
I even got to see my friends before prom (as my GF Carlee was having her bday party not far from where the event was being held). As someone who never took prom pictures with my friends, I was excited after all these years to have the life experience.
Onto the actual post.
Maestro … https://www.youtube.com/embed/BzbxacRr5Gk?wmode=opaque
Last year, on Bumble, I got hit up by a guy whose opening message read “your life is being turned into a TV show? My life has already been turned into a movie.”
Remember, I lead my digital marketing efforts with the fact that Jerry Bruckheimer bought my life rights (twice AND IT SOLD)!
Convinced he was kidding, I responded back with a gif similar to this …
“Have you seen [insert movie title here]?”
Oh shit, I thought, he’s not actually kidding knowing that the movie he mentioned was actually based on a true story.
Statistically speaking, I averaged 434 (unique) messages a week on dating apps (Tinder and Bumble), and there is a one in 217 chance I’d actually go out on a date with someone.
As someone who doesn’t serial date anymore, I (at the time) only allocated two nights a week for dates … and never two in one weekend.
One date during the week, and one on the weekend … sometimes with the same person … mostly not.
I then responded with my number (as in phone number and not dating average), and he politely texted before saying he would call later that day.
Ladies, that’s one of the best ways to filter guys, btw. I do not EVER accept a date over text, and if a guy can’t pick up the phone to call you BEFORE THE FIRST DATE, is he really worth your time?
We exchanged a series of calls and texts back and forth. He gave me his full name for googling (which I appreciated but had already figured out and had already cross referenced said name in social to discover our mutual friends.)
54 friends – most of whom are people I am IRL friends with.
Later that Saturday, we met up early for dinner and if we liked each other afterwards, the plan was to head over to the KCRW opening ceremony for their new campus.
I then got in the LYFT and updated him on my appearance while sending over my ETA.
I was wrong, it’s actually spelled lasik, but either way … I was then dropped off at the pier and fought my way through the sea of tourists (knowing that the restaurants on the pier are at the end).
A showers worth of a solid Purell pour later, (and sometime around the time I should have been arriving) …
I looked down and noticed a text.
His text in the address included the word “pier” so I assumed it was on the Santa Monica Pier.
Had I just entered in the restaurant name, I would have arrived no problem.
Much like everything in my dating life…
… apparently even my arrival would be dramatic (knowing that I had to painstakingly walk ALL THE WAY BACK UP THE PIER facing the crowd YET AGAIN).
Not taking any more chances, I then entered the restaurant into google maps …
… and never one to half ass my mistakes, I put on my big girl pants as I worked my way back through the crowd.
True to my word, I arrived about 10 minutes later.
My glasses were fogged up (from the heat), and my makeup was runny, but fuck it- I said.
I’m enough of a pro to know shit happens in life, it’s not about the actual shit, but rather how quickly you recover from said shit.
I wiped the sweat off my glasses and from under my eyes as I entered the (thankfully air conditioned) restaurant.
“Your date is outside,” said the hostess.
Oh fuck, I immediately thought remembering he JUST texted that to me.
Enjoy it while it lasts, I thought temporarily cooling off as best as I could.
I approached the table with confidence.
You made it, he said excited as we embraced …
… making my already warm body even warmer.
I politely excused myself to use the restroom where I quickly ran cool water on my wrists (a simple trick if you want to cool your body down quickly).
I re- approached the table at a more appropriate body temperature.
I then took a sip of my rose (which thankfully was also cold), as we began the “getting to know you” portion of the date.
I opened with hard core questions … https://www.youtube.com/embed/9S1EzkRpelY?wmode=opaque
He opened with the most common question I get asked, “are you going to write about this date?”
<tangent> This is a two fold question; I’ve learned in my old age that it’s less about the “actual writing of the date” (should that even occur) and more about their own exposure.
Understandably, people don’t ever want to look bad and dating is a very vulnerable thing.
24 year old Jen who started this website didn’t fully grasp that.
34 year old Jen TOTALLY does (or technically 33 year old Jen at the time of the date).
At this age, 9/10 that’s what guys mean when they say that to me.
At 24? They. All. Wanted. To. Be. Written. About.
I wasn’t aware enough to understand when it was happening, but it was a passive aggressive way of saying “please please please write about me.”
I vividly remember sitting at bars not knowing that I was recognized by someone, and they would either spill a drink or do something aggressively stupid just because they knew about this website.
It was a mutual exchange the more that I look at it. Like a dog, they got to pee on a post (if I fell for it), and for me? I got the content.
FYI, 34 year old Jen is a lot happier than 24 year old Jen. </tangent>
“I don’t serial date anymore,” I admitted. “What I’ve done on my blog is a collection of nearly a decade of documented adventures – I couldn’t be that same person if I tried.”
“If I ask you to not document this date, will you do that?”
Not expecting the next part of the date to occur (more on that in a minute), I assured him I wouldn’t.
This is the part where I wasn’t true to my word.
After a great dinner, we half walked/ half Lyfted our way to the event.
I like to walk while I think, and his conversation really got me thinking.
As a notorious sapiosexual, I don’t give a flying toss what you look like, I look for someone who can keep me on my toes (which is why dating has been so hard).
From my perspective he was doing this.
We arrived at the event which had a line that spanned at least a block.
Knowing this would give us more time to talk, I was excited.
He then mentioned something about an obscure town back east, to which the guy in front of us overheard.
“Are you from [insert obscure back east town here]?” he asked interjecting.
“Yes,” my date said.
“ME TOO!” he said excited introducing himself.
With the line moving at a glacial pace, I was willing to make it a “no person left behind” in the category of stimulation.
“I’m Jen,” I say outstretching my hand as my date introduced himself as well.
I’m … let’s call him Jiminy Cricket.
Now, when someone with the name Jiminy Cricket introduces themselves as Jiminy Cricket – you remember it. This person’s first name was very memorable and without even knowing his last name, I realized I recognized him.
Super excited I said “I KNOW YOU! IT’S ME JEN FRIEL!”
Without a breath or interruption, I asked about how his dog was?!
<tangent> His dog went missing sometime back, and he posted about it throughout social media. We are friends on FB and because I am a MASSIVE animal lover, Facebook kept showing it in my newsfeed … I religiously followed along with his journey. </tangent>
“I WAS SO HAPPY TO HEAR THAT SHE WAS EVENTUALLY FOUND AND YOU GUYS WERE REUNITED.”
What happened next completely caught me off guard.
“Talk Nerdy To Me, Lover,” he said with a tone registering somewhere between disdain and disgust.
… I thought.
“I’ve waited six years to confront you.”
Recognizing my luck up until this point, and the fact that this guy seems AWESOME … meant that life would OF COURSE introduce a surprise third act (not in my favor).
Buckle up Buttercup, I thought as I quickly glanced over at my date.
“You wrote about me six years ago. You made me seem like SUCH A CREEP! You kissed me back! How was that creepy if you were into it too?”
I immediately remembered what he was talking about – it was a night at the Chateau Marmont and he was in a swimmer’s costume.
The timing of this conversation was less than stellar considering my date had JUST ASKED ME NOT TO WRITE ABOUT HIM, let alone the fact that dudes don’t want to hear about other guys you’ve made out with (reluctantly or otherwise)ON THE FIRST DATE.
I stood my ground as I said “I stand behind everything that I’ve ever written.”
“BUT YOU MADE ME SEEM LIKE SUCH A SLEAZE!”
From my recollection he was being sleazy, but not in a “hey let me get you a drink so I can roofie you” – there was a playful innocence in our exchange. He just is who he is and is very open and loving – I was just surprised and caught off guard by how forward he was then and now.
“I’m sorry my post made you feel that way,” I said not apologizing for what I knew to be my version of the truth, but with empathy that this person has held onto a single blog post for SIX YEARS.
I wasn’t sure if I’ve ever elicited that kind of response from someone before.
We then parted at a somewhat satisfied state.
Jiminy Cricket left satisfied that he had a release six years in the making.