What are you doing to these men?

The other day I was sitting at the computer when my roommate came home. She was walking to her room and on the way said to me, "I'm supposed to tell you a message that Mr. Horny has the hots for you." And that's where it all begins.

Not only was I confused, but I had no idea what she was talking about. "I'm sorry?" My facial expression alone was not going to explain my thoughts on the subject. I did not know a Mr. Horny, or if this was a pseudonym for a person we knew, or anything about what had just happened. She continued, "Nan said to tell you that one of the guys from the airport that you talked with on the employee shuttle came up to her at Jamba Juice this morning and asked about you. She said his name is Mr. Horny."

For serious? I had to wait a couple of days for Nan to tell me more about this situation. Basically it was as my roommate said. Except Nan also added she had offered to help Mr. Horny out, and that he said he would work his way up to approaching me in his own time. She also said that he could see me from his station at work, though I did not know I was being watched.

I still had no idea who this Mr. Horny was. Nan couldn't describe him very well, and the only other person who knew him wouldn't be at work for another couple of days. My days of anticipation grew, as did my slight paranoia that I was being watched from afar and couldn't do anything about it. From what our other coworker had expressed to Nan, it wasn't going to be good.

Finally, today I was able to interrogate our other coworker. She expressed concern, but one that was hard to explain. "It's not that he's creepy, but I get this vibe from him that's hard to explain." I finally figured out which one was Mr. Horny. He was reading a Twilight book on the bus once and I took note because I do not know many men who read Twilight books. Occasionally we are on the same shuttle together, but not to my knowledge do I address him any differently than other shuttle riders.

Our other coworker asked me, "What are you doing to these men? They keep falling in love with you!" Well, shoot. "I had no idea this was going on," I replied. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm oblivious when it comes to men." She added, "Well, you've got quite the fan club over there." How was I supposed to know that I was irresistible? I would play it up more if I did.

One thing I've noticed about working at the airport is that many people think of women working for airlines as little flirts. Many passengers, specifically male passengers, think they are getting special treatment from us. Most of the time it's not the case. There have been a few times, I'll admit, that I've flirted back or provided a little extra attention, but what's the point of trying to get a phone number from someone you may never see again?

Starting a relationship with someone at the airport wouldn't bother me, but how am I supposed to know they are interested if they never approach me? I suppose I could do the approaching... time to balls-up, I guess. Life was so much easier before technology, when men couldn't get distracted by video games or text messages and did better at communicating with women in person; now it's an additional layer of complication and a double strike against talking to girls.

I'm not sure what that was

Today at work I helped a family of three: two were flying, one was helping them translate and making sure everything worked out. I had to help them get through the security checkpoint fast - wheelchairs do not make that easy - and get them on board.

The one not flying - a man - came through the checkpoint to help his two older female family members. He left as soon as we got them settled on board... or so I thought.

As I was headed back to the ticket counter I noticed him ahead of me, and then I noticed him stop and turn around. He thanked me and said, "I didn't even catch your name." So I told him. And then we walked toward the exit point together, though I was actually looking for a couple of last minute check-ins.

As we parted ways, he said, "Well, thank you again very much for your help. Can I take you to dinner sometime?"

I said, "No, but thank you. It's all part of my job."

I wasn't sure if the gentleman was asking me to dinner as a thank you for helping his family, which I could not accept by law and company policy. Or was he asking me out on a date separate from the fact that I helped his family.

If it was the former, good move on my part. Though it was very nice, I don't want to get fired on the off chance that it gets back to the company. If it was the latter, well that's flattering!

But I'm not quite sure what it was, so I guess I'll never know.

A boost to the ego

While driving up to Target on Friday, I had an encounter with a man in a white pick up truck. Not one of those monstrosities that terrorize people in smaller cars; the size of a Ford Ranger - it might have even been a Ford Ranger.

We were driving side by side, and then Mr. Truck literally sticks his head out of the window to get a better look at me. Flattered and slightly embarrassed, I flash a big grin back his direction. Most likely I also turned bright red. After focusing on the road for a tick he did it again. Now this is getting to be very embarrassing as well as inflating the ego a little. It didn't help that he was - from what I could tell - a good looking guy in his 20s himself.

Moral of the story: While girls do not appreciate being honked at while they are walking down the street, they apparently don't mind the gesture of a man falling out of his truck window to get a better look at them.

The date with the 31-year-old

Age is just a number, but this was my first date with someone in a different age group than myself.

It all started after a Ryan Cabrera show downtown. My friend Megan and I decided to wait until after the crowds had left to see if we could meet Mr. C, and we lucked out in more ways than one. While we were waiting we met a couple of other ladies who were doing the same thing, and we were all chatting away when a man came up to us. None of us really knew who he was, and he came over to me and said something. Well, because he was not very clear I said to him, "I'm sorry but I didn't hear a word you just said." It wasn't rude; it was fact. I didn't hear a word he said. So he repeated himself: "This lady over there keeps trying to dance with me. She's like a cougar or something, and I'm trying to get away with her. Can you save me from her by dancing with me?"

Now, usually a guy making something up to talk to a girl is pretty creative, but this one was really something. I didn't see this "cougar" and I wasn't sure about this guy, but I said sure and we headed out onto the dance floor. There were very few people still in this venue - it's usually a club, but there is a stage and they apparently rented it out for this show - but a few couples had gone onto the dance floor, so I didn't mind dancing for a little while. The "cougar" did exist! She came up to us and asked to cut in while we were dancing, and I couldn't help but chuckle to myself she awkwardly walked away with a drink in her hand, scanning the room for prey to pounce.

As we were dancing the man commented on how well I moved. What can I say - I've got some dance skills. We finally introduced ourselves. His name was Jeff, and he owned his own business. Score! Random man introduces himself and he's self-employed? This has never happened before. We dance a little while longer, until the coast is clear and there are no "cougar" sightings, and then we go back to our respective groups. A few minutes later, after much chatting with Megan and the other ladies, - "He could be your Morelli!" Megan said - I decided to give Jeff my number. And a few minutes after that Jeff gave me his card. He then left with his buddy - his buddy appeared to be a moron, and tool, which in the movie world would be a foreshadowing but I was so excited I ignored him - and Ryan Cabrera came downstairs and we got pictures and autographs, then Megan and I went home.

I think I called him to see if he wanted to go out, but I can't remember in all honesty. I remember playing phone tag for a while, and finally we were able to coordinate our schedules to meet up for dinner on a Monday night. How I remember it was a Monday night is because I had to make sure I got back in time to set up for community Mass, as I was the person in charge of it in the residence hall. And I really appreciated that our phone conversations weren't unnecessarily long; they were efficient and to the point. He let me choose the place - I'm bad at making decisions, so I went with something familiar but sort of neutral territory. I got there maybe a few minutes early, and was able to get a table. A funny coincidence was that a friend of mine was actually a server at the place, and she was able to chat with me for a little while and bring me my first beer. He did show up a wee bit late, but at least he called. I think he got lost - why don't people look up directions before they leave for somewhere?

Once Jeff arrived things when great. We were able to have a good flowing conversation and enjoy a meal. The one awkward part of the conversation came about when he was talking about his younger sister being pregnant. She was as old as I was, and I didn't feel that comfortable discussing her sex life considering I didn't really know her, or Jeff for that matter. He asked if I had siblings and whether I talked about things with my brother, and I told him I wasn't sure that I wanted to know if my brother was sexually active or not. That line of discussion quickly ended and we continued to enjoy ourselves. He also talked for a while about how he had recently broken up with a woman he had dated for a few years. I mistakenly had a second beer - I'm the biggest lightweight in the world! - and we finished up our meal.

Jeff suggested that we go do something else. I had a while still until I needed to be back on campus, so I said yes. He suggested we go play pool at a place nearby, and I said I was OK at pool so that would be fun. He drove us to Mississippi Avenue and parked us on a neighboring street, where he decided he needed to change his shirt. Now, I'm thinking this was a ploy for me to admire him with his shirt off, but all it did was make me wonder why he felt the need to change his shirt in the middle of the street and why he felt that was a good time to do so. I should have made a bigger note of this. After this display of masculinity we walked over to the bar for pool. While playing pool, things got playful. We were waiting for a game to finish up and he rested his hand on my back, soothingly running it up and down my back, maybe even sneaking it underneath the shirt at one point, but never going into uncomfortable territory. When we finally got to playing pool things got even more playful. I didn't need help with my angles or anything, so there wasn't any of the stereotypical girl-asking-guy-for-pool-help stuff you see in movies, but at one point we stopped playing pool all together and were leaning into each other, laughing and enjoying the closeness. I was really enjoying the proximity, since it had been quite some time since a man showed this much interest in me, and he was nice and warm. Walking back to his car, he reached down and took my hand, and we walked back holding hands. It was such a sweet gesture. And then when we said goodnight I gave him a kiss on the cheek. It was a great first date...

At least, it seemed to be. Probably it was so great because I had had two beers. Damn my low alcohol tolerance! I enjoyed our date so much because I was a wee bit drunk - not a good way to start a date - and as I was rushing back to campus to get Mass started, I realized I was silly to have had two beers knowing I am such a lightweight. But I wanted to go on another date, a more sober date (not that I'm a lush, but...), one where I could determine whether I liked this guy because he was a great guy or because a couple of pints of beer were running through my blood stream. So after another series of phone calls, we agreed to meet up on the weekend to the Zoo.

Again, he was late. Hmm, I thought, interesting. It was a drizzly day with some rain, but a hat was all that was needed to protect me from the elements. He did bring an umbrella in case, but I didn't think we'd need it. The Zoo is a great place for a date because you get to walk and talk and enjoy each other - perfect. So as we walked and talked a few concerning things happened. First, as I was making sure my phone was on silent, he asked if he could see my phone. Strange, I thought, but OK. I handed it over and he commented on the background. My phone had a picture of me as the wallpaper in case I lost it somewhere, in the hopes that someone would be able to identify me from the picture and return it, which I explained to him. He said, "This is a great picture of you. You should send it to me so I can put a copy at my desk at work." Whoa! This was only date number two, and that took me completely by surprise. Why would I give a picture of me to someone I had just started dating, and why would I want them to put said picture at their desk so early on? Things continued to get a little weird. The whole time we were walking around he was trying to slap my butt with either his hand or his sweatshirt or something. I know I have a great ass (it cannot be denied), but that does not give permission to begin slapping it. I did my best to evade, but sometimes I was unsuccessful. And as we walked through the park he wanted to wrap his arm around me, which would have been fine, but it wasn't comfortable the way he did. Finally, we came across this party we were wondering about, and he decided to ask a gentleman about what was going on. This led to a lengthy discussion between the two men, which became more of a networking opportunity, as I stood there zoning out and wondering if all that I had seen the last date was just a front and never actually happened. Then I remembered a few things: the shirt changing episode, the over-sharing of his sister's personal life... oh no. Things were not going well.

We walked out of the Zoo and he walked me to my car. He started to give me a hug and say goodbye, but then it turned into an awkward hug-holding thing. It's hard to explain. Say someone is giving you a hug, and then the two of you never leave the hug, and you stand there in this embrace talking into each other's ears in a very up close and personal way. It wouldn't have been so bad if the rest of the day had gone better. We broke apart, but then he hugged me again and I was trapped in an endless cycle of hug-holding, wanting to go home to the warmth and safety of my apartment and unable to do so. It would have been nice if I had known him better, too, but at this point I was getting creeped out. Finally, after three of these cycles, I opened my door and he walked to his car. I'm not sure what we said as we parted ways, but I had this feeling that it was the last time we were seeing each other, and I was OK with that. He didn't call me; I didn't call him. It was a mutual parting of ways.

After the dates with Jeff I realized a couple of things. One, he was definitely thinking he was going to get some action from me, most likely because I was younger and because of how well I "moved" on the dance floor; he probably was also looking to have some fun as a single man. Two, I should not have more than one drink on a date, even if the guy offers to buy another; I simply do not have the tolerance level to handle any more than the first drink, and it definitely affects my judgment. Three, a guy in his thirties is a great date, as long as he doesn't act like he's in this twenties. Four, men who change their shirt on the first date are something to be wary about.

At least he paid for our dinner... and he was the first guy that I made it to Date Two.

The date with Bird Boy

Probably the most entertaining dating story in my repertoire is my date with "Bird Boy." He is appropriately named, as you will see later in the story. Warning: this is quite long, but hopefully my misery will amuse you.

It all starts on facebook. I received a *poke* from a name and picture I did not recognize. The name sounded familiar enough - Brian is a pretty common name, right? - but I still wasn't sure whether I knew this person or not. I sent Brian a facebook message: "Do I know you from somewhere?" To summarize the message back, I did not know Brian, but he saw my profile picture while looking through facebook one day and thought it looked interesting. I should mention here that the aforementioned profile picture was me, curled up in a ball, sleeping on an over-sized chair. You can't actually see my face in the picture, only that I appear to be comatose.

The messages became longer as we started a conversation over facebook. This led to the sharing of backgrounds, favorite pastimes, and all those things you share with someone to get to know them. An interest of a romantic nature began to sprout. We exchanged instant message screen names as well as phone numbers. And now the story gets creepy, weird, and unbelievably true...

It started with the instant messaging conversation. Brian suggested we perhaps go on a date, to which I was more than excited to try, being this my first venture into online dating - as I believe this was technically online dating. As we had exchanged photos over facebook - I don't remember which one I sent him, but the one he sent me was him with his shirt off and sunglasses on his face (really?) - he commented on the fact that I was "hott." That's a compliment if you're in middle school, but not once you've graduated college. He mentioned the "hott" factor more than once, which - for men to know - is not a compliment anymore, and actually makes a girl feel more like a piece of meat (well, this girl). This was also especially concerning given we had never met face-to-face and, with three "hott" compliments on the record, we proceed to the next bit of awkwardness...

Brian suggested the first date be watching the sunset. Though a sweet gesture, that's more Date Five material. In addition to the sunset, Brian told me to wear a skirt on our date. Uh... Bad idea. First, we'd never met, and that's extremely offensive. Second, you don't tell a girl what to wear! Third, he said the reason I should wear the skirt was because he "thinks skirts are hott." If it was more of a "what are you going to wear" so as to identify me when we met for the date, totally fine; this "wear a skirt because it's hott" business, I'm not OK with that. As such, I talked to my friends about the situation and my increasing concerns about this Brian character. They said that he was probably nervous, and that engineers are awkward - Word to the Wise: don't ask engineers about a fellow engineer because they stick up for each other.

My concerns continued to compound. When talking with him on the phone, Brian referred to future dates despite the fact that we had not been on a first. And on top of that he made so rather inappropriate sexual innuendos, at least considering I did not know him. Strawberries dipped in chocolate - tasty, but really? - saying he knew his way around a power tool and that it's a big one... uh... Again, I confided in my friends, feeling more and more uncomfortable about our impending date. He's probably not very good over the phone, they'd struggle to spit out as their faces displayed the distinct emotions of confusion and concern. But I listened to their words, and the date was only a couple of days away - how bad could it get?

I would like to say in advance that I did not know I was setting myself up for the WORST date of my life (to date). First he insisted I meet him down at Portland State University, despite the fact that I told him I was not familiar with the area and would need to take public transportation - I didn't have a car at the time, which he assumed I did have. On top of that, he wanted to meet for dinner before his class. Brian was not very flexible, so I negotiated that we meet instead at the Starbucks in the middle of Pioneer Square and that we meet for coffee in the early afternoon instead of dinnertime. Brian agreed, as it was not too far from where PSU is.

On the day of the date all hell broke loose, and Brian became what I have termed a "needy puppy." I first got an IM from Brian at 9:30 am. With a pit in my stomach and fear on my mind, I left lunch in the safety and company of friends - the same friends I had been telling my concerns - and proceeded to the bus stop. Riding on the bus, twenty minutes to go, I get a phone call. I thought it was odd that Brian would be calling me; I secretly hoped he was canceling our date; I was not that lucky. I answered the phone and was greeted by "What's up?" This angered me, but I kept my cool. I told him I was on the bus on the way to meet him. Duh, I though, you're being an a**hole because you knew that already. I could not believe that he ended the conversation with "OK, well I'm going to head out now. Bet I'll beat you there!" It was middle school all over again, and it was only going to get worse. I seriously contemplated getting off the bus and turning right around, but I couldn't be that cruel and kept on going.

We met at the door to Starbucks. He held it open for me - maybe I was wrong, I though - and then we ordered our drinks. I paid for my own hot chocolate - yes, $2.45 but still he thought I should buy my own on our date - and life got miserable. He ignored me. We sat down outside and he didn't say a word. He looked up and down and all around Square. I asked questions that he answered, but then he didn't ask any questions of me. And the came the birds...

He had mentioned a paper he was working on, and I mistakenly asked him what it was about. Direct quote: "It's about how pigeon feces causes things to corrode." Oh shit. For TWENTY minutes he talked about pigeons, pigeon shit, all things about birds, and the whole time I tried stopping him with comments like "I'm afraid of birds because I had a traumatic experience" and "I think pigeons are dirty and awful" and "Please don't do that" when he tried to bring a pigeon over to the table. I really did not want to know about how pigeon poop corrodes statues, or how in Switzerland they killed 100,000 pigeons over 26 years, or that he tried feeding pigeons french fries and then tried fooling the dirty birds with strips of paper.

Then, as there was a lull in conversation, I asked if he'd seen any good movies lately. First Brian shared with me that he thought I Am Legend was going to be a lot like i,Robot because Will Smith was in both of them. This led to a discussion about movies about diseases and how said movies should be more realistic (had he not seen Stepmom? Steel Magnolias? Or at least heard of them?). Then came nanoscience and a conspiracy theory about microchips embedded in humans. Forty minutes passed by and finally there was nothing else for him to talk about and for me to ask him. As he realized I was looking to evacuate the Starbucks and leave, he finally came alive and asked to walk me to my bus stop. Hell no! I thought to myself. Instead I said I needed to use the bathroom across the street and thanks for the offer. I said I was heading to California for a while and might not be able to get in touch - he took this as an opportunity to mention that he had a friend in L.A., which he didn't was the same place as Los Angeles, and wondered if that was close to San Francisco, which I couldn't believe because everyone in the world has heard of California and has some idea of the two major cities at two opposite ends of the state. I ended it with the classic line of "I'll call you," hinting that I did not have a good time and he should not expect me to call.

When I got back from the date from hell I saw I had missed some instant messages, a series of messages actually, all asking "Are you here?" to see if I was online. They had been sent while I was at work, lunch, and on the bus on the way to the date. The "needy puppy" strikes again!

I had told him I was heading back to California for a while, and as I had already told I would call him, I was not expecting a facebook message to appear in my inbox the next day wondering when we would go out again. He was expecting a relationship and thought nothing was off about the date we had. I had already told my coworkers my story - how awful it was, how never to trust engineers when they give you dating advice - and asked for their opinions on what to say back to him. Instead of the paragraphs-long response/lecture I intended to send, one of my male coworkers suggested I simply say I wasn't looking for a relationship at the moment. It worked, and I have never heard from Brian again.

I concluded that I was most likely Brian's first date... EVER. His behavior before, during, and after the date suggests it. Or perhaps his maturity level was that of a middle school boy, in which case I was not going to be continuing anything with him. All of this happened over the course of one week - yes, just one. The bizarre conversation and weird behavior is just a great story now (great in that it's amazing it happened, not in that it was a great date). Also to note, Brian was an idiot. You can get better dating advice and learn dating behavior from any TV show or movie, as long as you're paying attention. Not even that was accomplished by "Bird Boy." Hopefully his skills have improved and dating has gotten easier for the women he meets.

Constantly confused

I clearly have no idea whether a man is indeed interested in me on a romantic level or just enjoying my company. Flirting with intent and flirting because it's fun are two different things. How do you tell the difference? One day I will be able to do so; I have no idea when that day will be. I'm oblivious when it comes to realizing that a guy is actually interested in me beyond being "just friends," and I have a great talent for being attracted to unavailable men. It would be great if the stars could align and help me in this predicament.

Side note: I was recently given love and life advice. I was talking with my seat-neighbor at the Sting show about blocked views and staying up late, and we came across the topic of my new employment with an airline. She worked in the travel industry and gave me a pseudo-prediction of what the future holds for me: I'll travel the world, have tons of adventures, and along the way I'll find someone fabulous. I wonder when that day will be, but until then, I suppose I should get started on traveling.

The date that never was

I once went out with a guy, and though it was just the two of us hanging out, I don't think he considered it a date. Confusing, but here's the story.

There was a guy named Peter that I really liked. Still really like. In the last month of our senior year at college I finally made a little move - by my standards, pretty big, since I'm shy and a slow learner to the world of dating - and asked him to go to the zoo with me. I didn't ever say it was a date, but I secretly hoped he would think of it as one. I didn't invite anyone else, and he didn't ask to bring any other people. It would be just the two of us.

Well, it became a little more difficult to arrange. With finals nearing and senior year coming to a close, the original day we were going didn't work out, and trying to reschedule landed the trip to the zoo on the same night as the spring semester pub crawl. The crawl is really an excuse for alcoholism, with those over the age of 21 (or who have IDs saying they were) walking through the neighborhoods from bar to bar, consuming as much liquor as possible, documenting their adventure with a digital camera. Sadly, I had never had the opportunity to go on this crawl because I didn't turn 21 until after seven semesters of college, and I wasn't brave enough to consider purchasing a new age. But this day was different - I wanted to go to the zoo more than I wanted to crawl my way through the city.

Knowing this was the day of the fake date, I made sure to put a little more effort into my wardrobe choice and make-up. In addition to the usual Burt's Bees lip balm, I also opted for a swipe or two of mascara (daring, I know). However, these efforts would prove to be pointless - it began pouring down rain as we drove to the zoo. The mascara would be hidden behind the black and white hood of a raincoat. And you would think the rain would dampen the spirits of some people and they would change their mind, but Peter didn't seem to mind and we traversed the zoo despite the weather. We traveled the entire zoo, stopping at every animal habitat we could, watching the creatures hide under trees or in their man-made shelters. For nearly three hours we walked and talked and laughed and shared stories, which would be silly to you but were wonderful to me. It was the best trip to the zoo I had ever had. Sweet. Simple. Slowly the attendants began closing off areas of the zoo, preparing to close for the evening. We walked back to the car and headed home.

You know those conversations you can have with another person that flow continuously because you both enjoy the other's company and you're not worrying about how to impress each other? You genuinely enjoy what the other has to say, you find the topics interesting, it appears to be a conversation without effort? To me, it felt like Peter and I were having one of those conversations on that day.

Shamefully, I'm a wimp. I did nothing after that to show how interested I was. I guess I was hoping he'd make the next move and ask me to do something. Being the end of the year meant time was spent studying and packing, and a tragedy had taken place that meant he was spending time with his family more. And I'm a wimp.

Perhaps in the future I will be less of a wimp. I'll be able to say to a man like Peter that I really enjoyed myself at the zoo and would like to try it again sometime, but in less of a friend capacity. Considering the number of setbacks to the fake date that were - a week's postponement, sudden downpours, pub crawl night - it was pretty enjoyable. I think in being so simple it was pretty much exactly what a date should be. It could have only been better if his hand gently reached for mine as we ended the trip around the zoo. And if we didn't find out the next day that one of the giraffes we had seen (or thought we had seen) was then put down the next day.

Here's to those perfect zoo trips that aren't really dates but you wished they had been.