Are you a guy dating in Los Angeles? Check out this follow-up article about one man’s experiences and frustration with dating single women in LA.
The article I wrote about dating in Los Angeles got quite a few responses. Given the number of reader comments the article received (accusing me of making things up, only dating much younger women, only going for “hotties”) I’ve decided to offer even more of my not-unique-experiences about what it’s like to be a single man in L.A. who still hasn’t given up on dating — yet.
First off, to be fair, I’d like to point out that I’ve had many wonderful dates, but what follows is a compilation of less than perfect outings — and believe me, they are not a rarity. I would categorize these dates as fuzzy logic with a shot of alcohol.
I still believe in chivalrous values, so typically I’ll volunteer to drive to my date’s neighborhood in order to save her from a long drive and hopefully (and more selfishly), so she won’t have the “terrible L.A. traffic” as her excuse for being late. This policy has failed miserably.
On one occasion, my date suggested we meet at a wine bar near her house, I agreed and the date was on. We sat down, she ordered a glass and I followed her lead and ordered the same wine. What could go wrong? We had an enjoyable and spirited conversation, filled with laughter and repartee. After about 45 minutes I noticed my glass was empty and hers was still full, untouched. I asked if the wine was not to her liking, we could order another.
Her response was, “I never drink wine,” and she tapped the guy at the table next to ours and offered him her glass, then picked up the wine menu and said, “Let’s see what I’ll order next.”
It was a surreal moment. I sat back in my chair, looked around and thought to myself: I’m in a wine bar that only serves wine with a date who selected this establishment who never drinks wine yet orders wine. On top of that, I’m buying wine for the guy sitting at the next table. I needed a drink, fast!
I asked her why she selected a wine bar if she doesn’t drink wine? After all, I’m a vegetarian and would never take a date to a steak house, order chateaubriand for both of us, watch her eat and then offer my untouched plate to the closest stranger.
Her response, “I don’t know!” with a dismissive shrug.
Another time, I was at dinner with a date, I informed her that I could not drink alcohol due to an early morning flight and the requirement of no booze 12 hours before flying a commercial aircraft.
She became defiant and aggressive, insisting that I order a glass of wine, to the point of taunting and challenging my professional ethics. Her forceful demand was based on the premise that it wouldn’t make a difference. I agreed with her that it wouldn’t make a difference, but I signed up for a particular profession and agreed to abide to the rules, furthermore why jeopardize my career over something as discretionary as alcohol? To no avail, she couldn’t let it go. It became a point of contention the entire night.
Then there are the simply strange characters.
I once picked up my date from her aunt’s house. Most women carry a purse; this woman had a roll-aboard suitcase. I know going on a date with me can be a trip but this was a first. At the end or our date, she asked if she could move in with me, apparently she was homeless.
Another time I had a woman constantly looking over my shoulder during our date. I inquired if she knew the couple behind me. She said no, but they were very jealous and she could read their minds. Her anger grew to a point where I had to plead with her not to go over and start a fight.
And I’ll never forget the time I arranged a date to the Hollywood Bowl for an open-air summer concert. The plan was for us to meet at my house and I would take care of transportation to the Bowl. From my house we got into my car and drove to the Santa Monica DMV parking lot where dedicated buses had assembled to ferry concert goers to the destination.
My date refused to get on the bus. It was beneath her to be seen on “public transportation.” I tried to convince her it was the most efficient and easiest way to get there, and to imagine it was a $150,000 chauffeur-driven limo … with a few friends. Long story short: I ended up driving. She wouldn’t budge.
The roller coaster known as dating in Los Angeles is nothing less than walking into a big dark room full of surprises. I wish it were different, the level of dysfunction and unrealistic expectations makes it very challenging.
I listen to women. They say they want a guy who is educated, well-traveled, financially stable, communicative, gregarious, active, funny, motivated, driven, tall, chiseled — yet what do these women bring to the table?
Some are living in tiny studios barely eking out a living, with a high school or AA degree. The extent of their travels has been trips to Vegas. And I’m not talking about 20-year-olds; I’m describing women in their 30s, 40s and 50s. They all love travel and want to go someplace with “a beach,” have a “dream home”, shop at “Nordies,” drive a “Beamer” and to be with the “perfect catch.”
I once had a date tell me she broke up with her rich boyfriend because he was too cheap. I asked, “Are you cheap?” She replied “How can I be cheap? I don’t have any money!”
I said, “What I mean is, are you cheap with your affection, humanity, love? Your boyfriend had something you wanted: money. You had something he wanted: company, affection and compassion. Were you cheap?”
Her body language spoke volumes, her arms and legs crossed, she leaned back and I could see complete disapproval. I’d touched a sore spot.
Who are these women? They are your neighbors, sisters, friends, coworkers … maybe even you. A lot of them are on dating websites marketing themselves in a way that doesn’t reflect reality. And therein lies the challenge, deciphering reality from the imaginary.
A study found that 64 percent of women who are members of online dating sites lie about their age, while “honesty” was the number one characteristic they wanted in a man. (To be fair, the study noted that about the same percentage of men lie about their height and finances).
The way we process the suitability of an individual is based on the fantasy they’ve created and how it relates to our own. In our Internet world we’ve forgotten that people aren’t commodities, neatly packaged and displayed like products for sale in a catalog. And at the same time, we’ve let it become our primary means of connecting to the opposite sex. Somewhere in the process of “improving” the convenience of making romantic connections, we’ve lost an important element of our humanity.
Copyright © Kredu/2013 Singular Communications, LLC.