I Just Might Be Man Repellent

Not that I am on active duty in the social war of the sexes, but I find myself continually at odds with men when it comes to socializing and dating.

Skirt Mamas help me out. This isn’t one of my usual “observations on world events” blogs.  My transparency today goes beyond my ideas and opinions.  I could use some sassy quips and clever views that rain clarity down on me in the midst of my desert vacation from satisfying male company.

Problem #1: I haven’t come in contact with interesting, available, age-appropriate and appealing men in ANY public setting in Atlanta in many moons.  Just this past winter, I became so lonely for the presence of men who appeared to be interesting in social settings that I rather enjoyed taking myself out to places I liked that were particularly socially redeeming. 

I wasn’t over-inflating my expectations either. I kept things simple and plausible by taking myself to dinner on Friday nights at my neighborhood Outback Steakhouse, when I wasn’t hanging out with my girlfriends.  I live in a very trendy neighborhood near an upscale mall that caters to folks other than me who can afford Bloomingdales and Nordstrom prices during a recession, so anywhere you go in it to dine will attract a varied crowd, even at the Outback Steakhouse.

They had a happy hour drink special and a happening bar scene so a couple times I cruised up to the bar wearing a touch of lipstick, smart looking glasses, casual dark blue jeans, sparse jewelry and cute winter-appropriate loafers, and I would people watch, making solid eye contact without being creepy and offering the intermittent smile, in between rummaging through a menu and peeking at the Atlantic Monthly magazine I had tucked under my arm.  The goal was simple: Experience something inspiring for a change, even if I never saw that person or people again. 

One particular Friday night, I came upon a bevy of solo men, three sitting strategically around the bar and one sitting at a table to my right in the bar area and one sitting at a table to my left in the bar area.  One man at the bar was a young professional attractive black man dressed in dress shirt and silk tie, perfectly accented with a windsor knot.  I’m a black woman so my eye did immediately divert to him.  He never looked my way once, not even to acknowledge the gust of cold air that brushed in with me when I pushed through the front door.

The other to my right was a young black man.  His table companion, another black man, returned promptly to the table just after I sat on my bar stool.  He seemed very comfortable taking up the man’s personal space at the table and the two became lost in each other.  The guy to the left, another older black man, welcomed back a very young woman to his table.

I actually thought their interactions were sweet and romantic.  I found myself wondering what kind of red wine she was swirling around in her long stem goblet as she laughed infectiously at the things he had to say.  Seated at the bar with me, in addition to Mr. oblivious were two older white men.  One was locked into the football game on the flat screen TV mounted to the wall.  The other sat next to me.  We made eye contact, smiled and became somewhat chatty with one another until he began explaining to me why he had to have his baked potato plain and unbuttered.  I could feel my eyes glazing over as he rehearsed in front of me the importance of eating plain potatoes.  The night had been eventful in that I got out amongst the people, but it was bitter sweet.

I wanted to be the girl infectiously laughing and swirling red wine in a goblet that I barely drank from.  It wasn’t about the way the man looked or who he was.  It was about the way it appeared that he made her feel.  I wanted that feeling again, even if it led nowhere beyond me leaving the steakhouse afterward to go home alone. 

Problem #2: Online dating rarely leads to anything more than disappointment for me.  Let’s see, I was virtually stalked in my email inbox by a man who wouldn’t take my “thank you but I’m not interested” for an answer.  He lived four states away, was five years younger than the preferred age range I listed in my profile and could not type a coherent sentence if he tried.  Another man announced to me in our first email interaction that he was a very busy man and wanted my phone number right off the bat or else he could not entertain going forward.

I didn’t know him from a hole in the wall and I wasn’t sure I wanted to experience possibly being trapped on the phone with him trying to make conversation without any recognizable chemistry.  That’s why I stated in my profile that I wanted to exchange emails a few times before going off the reservation with anyone.  Still, I met another man whom I did feel comfortable enough with to exchange numbers.  Just as I had learned that he had two children by two different women out of wedlock, he disconnected his phone, out of the blue, no warning. 

I emailed him to find out if something happened to him.  He nonchalantly explained that he disconnected his phone to “deal with a few things in his life.”  I didn’t pry further about the what but I did ask if he had intended on letting others know how to contact him.  He gave no answer and didn’t apologize.  I didn’t go forward even though he told me that he wanted me to??? 

Skirt Mamas, I know that having dinner out a few times and trying online dating does not a social life make, but I haven’t yet resumed all elements of a meaningful life just yet, as I have recently had a kidney transplant that I am just so tickled and thrilled about.  But is it me completely?  Does the informality of people today border on rude? 

I feel like in general, men today are overly-pacified by women.  They are shallow and empty or oblivious to the lives of others unless those others are somehow directly helping them meet their expectations and goals in life.  Even when they are single a long while, well pseudo-single in Atlanta, they rarely work on making themselves better people.  Old single players unrealistically expect to approach young, on-the-ball women, as if they ALWAYS have a shot and the younger men couldn’t recognize or pay attention to a quality woman if she bit every one of them on the leg.  Am I desperately out of touch because I want a juicy conversation to sink my teeth in and a little fancy-faced interaction that might make me swirl red wine in a long stem goblet as I laugh infectiously at the humorous things a man says?