Mr. Polite

There's almost no point to writing about Mr. Polite, except for the fact this blog is about dating, and even the incredibly mediocre boring dates get a nod.
First date: 
Awesome, went to an improv show. Good times. Kind of a perfect first date; totally silly, really funny and a good way to gauge how your date does under pressure. Also theater, which is a given. Mr. Polite is a shorter, blonde, blue eyed guy. He has a nice smile and glasses, which I dig. He is not dressed like an idiot, which is a bonus.
Mentioned I did not have plans for the 4th of July. He immediately suggests I come with him and a couple of friends to their beach house. I demur, though inside I am pretty excited; he likes me! No one in their right mind would invite someone they were not interested in to spend a whole weekend with him!
Really, in hindsight, no one should ask someone on their first date to come on a weekend vacation with them, unless it's going AMAZING. (Which it was not. It was going pretty okay!) 
We end up at my car. He says:
"So... what do we do, do we shake hands, hug, make out? Ha ha... ha..." I pause and stare at him for a long second.
"If you have to ask, probably not."
We part ways with a kiss on the cheek, but I am optimistic.
Second Date
Mr. Polite invites me to accompany him to a show his friend has written at The Odd Duck on Capital Hill. We meet with his friends, and I oddly find myself more attracted to them then him. They are all really awesome people that immediately buy me a drink and offer me bites of their delicious dinner. His friend foots the bill. Can I date someone just for his friends?
We are seeing a play called "Vitriol", about a newspaper in Germany that resisted Hitler when he first came into power. It was not a happy story. Mr. Polite tries to hold my hand while people are being sent to internment camps. I laugh and then immediately regret my reaction. I think about it for the next five minutes, debating whether I should try and hold his hand again, but the moment has passed.
We are at my car again.
"No awkward kiss on the cheek this time I promise! Ha ha...ha..."
We part ways with no kiss at all. I am suspicious and enraged.
Date Three
I know. Why is there even a date three. I have no fucking clue. He asked if I would like to go to a movie, he has free tickets. He is insistent I meet him in Northgate, because that is right next to his work. He offers to buy dinner in exchange for my driving such a long way.
I would like to see Cowboys and Aliens. The title itself is delightful and Daniel Craig and Harrison Ford are dreamy.
He says the reviews are bad, how about Planet of the Apes?
 I'm not going to type this out, but this conversation goes back and forth for about five minutes, in the ticket line, both of us saying we don't care which one we go see EXCEPT he really does care, obviously, because why would he suggest-
It is just as irritating in person as it is to read it on the internet!
We see Planet of the Apes.
I would rather be outside. I hate seeing movies during the day.
We go to dinner and he talks about himself the entire time, and while paying the bill mentions how much he hates paying for things. I ask a question and he replies with distracted nod while gazing over my head. I accusingly jokingly mention that he's not a very good listener.
"What'd you say?"
Mr. Polite has turned out not to be very polite. What I thought was politeness was really just self absorption. 
We leave. I am inside my car at lightening speed, leaving no time for any weird goodbyes.
I sing along to the radio but change the words.
"Soooooo not wortthhhh thissss drriiivvveeeeeee."

You tell me at what point this was destined to not work out. When I refused to let someone ask to kiss me,  when I laughed when he tried to hold my hand, when his friend payed for my drink, or when he did not give a shit which movie I wanted to go to, or what I had to say. So many to choose from.

Graduation To Shame

Seattle is a beautiful city, it’s true. Full of trendy coffee shops, amazing vintage stores and neighborhoods; it calls to hipsters and young people like a gigantic ipad projected into the sky. I know it well, even calling myself a Seattle-ite when it comes right down to it.

But I must confess, I can’t give a Seattle zip for my address.

I was born there, later moving to Gig Harbor when my parents got tired of raising two kids in the city. I moved away to college in Ellensburg like a good girl, and upon graduating moved home (An area just a ferry ride across from Seattle) like any self respecting graduate with no money. 

So here I am. Waking up every morning to my Dad making me coffee, my mom getting ready for work and my dogs just making a general racket.

And that’s okay.

It’s quite a leap for me to be writing those words: It’s okay.

Because for quite some time now (And possibly once a week on a particulary rainy day) I was in the dark place. The I’ve-graduated-and-have-no-plan-and-I-live-with-my-parents place.

This is a reality for graduates in their twenties. It shouldn’t be a thing of shame; according to a study conducted by Twentysomething Inc., a consultant firm specializing in young adults, 85% of graduates in 2011 will be moving back home after graduation.

Ouch.

There is a social expectation today that we should be accomplishing things right out of the chute. Big things, things our parents passed on to us! Like taking up the good fight against whale hunting or painting signs to protest against healthcare, or the tea party!

But we are an apathetic bunch: a tweeting, facebooking bunch. We like to connect to each other on the internet, rather then holding hands at the picket line.

And that goes for dating too.

I’m not sure if you’ve seen the television ads, or been on any of the multitude of dating websites that are available to us today, but basically they offer the following things:

A myriad of available singles to choose from

An “easy, fun” way to meet people

A way to “find someone uniquely right for you!

If they were really being truthful they might say:

A total time sucker

Lonely guys in their thirties

A way to falsify and embellish the only good things about you!

And okay, that is not to say that I have not had anything good come of dating websites. Mr. Polite (whom I shall speak of further at a later date) continues to be a good time, and not a serial rapist! In fact, a large majority of relationships today begin on the internet.

So this also should not be a source of great shame. But for some reason, it still rings of desperation and sadness.

Why is that?

In any case, I have a job interview on Tuesday at a theatre, so here's hoping. My potential roommate (Another single 20 something) and I are also meeting next week to discuss rent and possible areas we'd like to move to. I'm thinking Queen Ann; I like the area, the people are friendly and not so Cap-Hill-in-your-face-hipster. Which can be scary sometimes. Capital Hill's hipsters have a passionate apathy that is something to be admired and feared. 

Or perhaps Fremont. Or West Seattle. Although West Seattle was where I was going to live with the X. And that, my friends, is a much longer story.