I’m starting to become the conduit for bad date stories. I have enough of my own to go around, but it is disheartening to wonder if anyone in their 30s is successful in dating.
April has been a parade of fools. My one girlfriend had to hit the eject button after her boyfriend stated he couldn’t afford to call her while he was on location. Apparently this six-figure man didn’t feel she ranked cell toll charges. Another friend had to pass when she found out the guy she was dating lived with his healthy mother. A friend in New York is writing a piece for a news magazine on portfolio dating and how the trend is to date multiple people to feel like you have one whole relationship. One is hard enough, but more than one? Please, I couldn’t take it.
While my eyes are wide open, I have no tolerance for crap. This feeling was accentuated this past weekend when I finally saw Todd Solondz’ Happiness. The opening sequence with Jon Lovitz is classic, but the line I took away was “I’m champagne and you are shit.” It prompted me to call the guy I had gone out with a few times and let him know is cancellations without notice were annoying and I was interested in seeing someone more available. As a wise Greek woman told me, “Date me right or I’ll fuck you up.”