Over the past year I went out with two different guys I met online. Both were fairly average in the looks department. I’d say I’m average to a little above average (sometimes men tell me I’m hot, but that’s usually after several beers). I am smart, warm, and friendly. Maybe too friendly (or too nice?), because afterward both men said almost the same thing—variations on “Sorry, no fireworks, see ya later—maybe we can be friends?” What gives? I am prettier than they are handsome, and I am getting the brush-off? Maybe I shouldn’t have offered to pay my share of the bill? But the first date for me (on an Internet date) is more of a meet ‘n’ greet, and I don’t expect a guy to foot the entire bill.
Average
Don’t we all look a helluva lot hotter when viewed through the forgiving lens of the beer goggle? Isn’t that one of the reasons we drink in the first place? Or is that just me? Anyway, as usual, I digress.
The No. 1 Rule of Wrongness in the book of love is that men always think they’re spiffier than they actually are. Women (most of us, anyway) err in the opposite direction—which is why you constantly see plug-ugly dudes with drop-dead babes. I mean, look at Harvey Weinstein. That dude is the definition of schlub, yet he’s married to a total stunner. Of course the fact that he’s both loaded and connected must make gumming his flabby pecker a tad more palatable.
Not all barker babe-magnets are filthy rich. Some just happen to luck into beauties with odd taste. Like, say, me—I’m a total hottie (cracking myself up over here!), and those pretty-boy types leave me cold. I prefer my men a little rough around the edges. Though I will relax these rules for the flawless David Beckham—have you seen his new underwear ads?!?!
The thing is: You didn’t find either of them attractive, yet now, months later, you’re annoyed that neither ever called? Who cares? Maybe you just weren’t either of these guys’ particular brand of attractive. Or maybe they were both secretly gay. Or perhaps one just broke up with his girlfriend and the other realized he was only attracted to blonds/redheads/[insert hair color you’re not here]. Whatever the scenario, dating is a numbers game, and two is hardly a valid sampling. You’re going to have to go on a lot more dates before I grant you permission to work yourself up into a true neurotic lather.
Your theories don’t make a whole lot of sense either. If someone doesn’t like you because you’re “nice,” then they’re not worth dating. However, if you are one of the many who confuse nice with “bland” or “wussy,” well then that’s different. Nice is good; wimpy, repellent. Friendly is also good. Who wants to go out with someone who can’t be bothered to smile and make polite conversation? I’m not buying that.
Speaking of buying, I am of the opinion that she or he who does the asking should also do the paying. At the very least, you should offer to split the bill. If he’s so hell-bent on buying your nachos, he can refuse your money. I always volunteer, but I also make it a rule never to wrestle for a check.
But here’s what really struck me about your letter: The fact that you met both these guys and immediately thought to yourself, “Damn, I’m way better-looking than him.” Definitely the wrong attitude to bring on a date. Did you pick these particular guys because you felt your looks would give you the upper hand? Because if that’s the case, you’re nuts—ugly dudes are generally more difficult than hot ones because they’ve got the fug chip on their shoulder. Do you realize that your facial expression probably conveyed your feelings of smug superiority? I’ve been on the receiving end of that look, and it’s not fun. And yes, unless he was completely oblivious, it was obvious.
So keep dating and work on that game.
