The Sunday Girl
Tuesday, October 21, 2003
From: Richard
Sent: Wednesday, January 08
To: Nancy
Subject: Reply
"Hair to your shoulders and dimples…..makeup…..no Civic……you must live on the Boulder cusp. What a freak, you must be chastised regularly. What self respecting Boulderite would show up for her wheatgrass drink at Wild Oats and then go for breakfast with makeup and sporting a gas guzzling Cherokee? Please tell me you at least order a vegan muffin and tofu for breakfast. Personally I miss the Aristocrat."
"Let me guess, these people wear either Ralph Nader pajamas or ones with aquatic mammals."
"Actually there are many new 4wd cars coming out that look great. They are cars but have all the features of an SUV. This is sort of like a Subaru wagon….duh the industry is acting as though they just discovered a new genre. Despite this however there are many new vehicles coming that make much more sense than the ones currently on the market."
"I leave for London tomorrow for a few days and then return the middle of next week. London is very cold and wet right now."
"I would be interested in knowing which firm you marketed. One of my companies is a commercial printing company and we have printed for some of the high tech firms up the BT."
From: Nancy
Sent: Wednesday, January 08
To: Richard
Subject: Reply
"I can't believe that you remember The Aristocrat. Wasn't that a great place? Did you know that Storage Tek's 1st Boulder County office was located above the restaurant? I miss it, too. Such normal food and you always got regular black tea, not herbal. No doubt that was before Mo Siegel's berry-seeking days."
"Ah... you also know about Wild Oats and wheatgrass drinks. Now I'm embarrassed. I went to Wild Oats once and thought they'd throw me out when I asked where the Betty Crocker fudge brownie mix was. (true story) Back to Soopers. I have never tasted tofu and certainly didn't make tofurkey for Thanksgiving. Just to cover my bases here, I've never ordered wheatgrass either. I have a friend who orders it every time we eat at Turley's and it always leaves a green mustache, so I figure that cancels the beneficial effects (if there truly are any). However, I must confess, I have an addiction to Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia bars. They're frozen cherry yogurt bars covered with dark chocolate. I think they sound kind of Boulderish because they're yogurt, not ice cream. Anyway, I always keep a stash of them in my freezer."
"And no, I don't eat vegan muffins either. Only blueberry muffins (regular, not no-fat) or sometimes a bagel w/cream cheese from Mo's (again, regular). So I have no idea why I'm living in Boulder. The taxes are high and the traffic is a mess. But the city council members are so amusing that I would miss them and their shenanigans should I move."
"Ralph Nader makes pj's? How would you know this? What color are yours? Oh my God - you've got the mammal ones, right?"
"Is there ever a time when London is not cold and wet? Sounds like you'll need to pack those pj's..."
"I worked for Exabyte (.60 per share last time I checked) for 6 years. It was still in R&D when I started and the EXB-8200 CTS tape drive was a media darling when first introduced. We did use commercial printers after the company grew, so it's possible that one of your companies may have been involved. We started out with a local company and then sent our business to Denver."
"Hope you enjoy your trip. "
Once again, the new day brought a new response.
From: Richard
Sent: Tuesday, January 7
To: Nancy
"I do not have dimples so if that is a list topper I am going to be conspicuous in my absence. Oh no, there goes the old self esteem once more."
"Relocating prairie dogs is great but I am not too keen on vacuuming them up for transport. A they seem to like a particular cereal produced by Kellogg's perhaps one could use this as bait and trap them in humane traps. This would also be great for a snack to bolster one during the long ride to work on the old Schwinn. You relate that you are adventurous yet you ride with a helmet. If you shed the dome you could both ride to work and take your chances. Should you get injured never fear as once you lose your home there will be a nice homeless shelter with a convenient location for you to occupy."
"The Boulder short, neat, out of face look is not a personal favorite. I am glad to see that you are a nonconformist and wear long hair."
"I suppose you drive a Subaru or an old Volvo wagon. There are a few of you who drive Toyota 4wd wagons or Honda Civic wagons but you do not seem the type. The assumption is that there is a holder for the Odwalla green drink and a place to store the granola. Of course you recycle the containers."
"Well Nancy I should probably get back to work. Let me know what is new in the People's Republic."
So, he was gainfully employed but still had time to write these clever little e-mails. In the morning, no less. Must be nice, being the "Chairman of Something."
From: Nancy
Sent: Tuesday, January 7
To: Richard
"Not to worry - the dimple is a girl thing, unless you're Kirk Douglas. So, having restored your fragile self esteem, I'm hoping that I caught you before you ran out and bought another round of French hair products whose messenger promises unforetold pleasures. Having spent some time in the marketing dept. of a local high-tech company, I can vouch for the fact that marketing people do, indeed, feel they have a license to lie. Especially blondes. "
"You are right. I am such a nonconformist, wearing my hair to my shoulders. And sometimes I even wear makeup. And if you go out to breakfast in Boulder on a Sunday morning, you'll find that I'm one of a very small (albeit classy) minority who prefers to wear jeans instead of biking shorts. There's another element who shows up in their pajamas. Truth is, I sort of envy the pj people and have recently purchased a very cute pajama set that I think could turn some heads at Le Peep."
"P.S. I drive a Grand Cherokee, but pls. don't tell anyone. Especially in Boulder. I keep it in the garage (with darkened windows) and when forced to drive anywhere I park in Jeffco to avoid suspicion."
"The Boulder City Council is currently studying a way to convert prairie dogs into fuel, but the Kellogg's lobbyists in DC are providing much resistance."
Monday, October 20, 2003
Richard Schwartz, aka "The Tease" responded at 8:28 AM the next day.
"The Jewish thing is no big deal but the shampoo issue is enormous. As one's shampoo seems to be indicative of one's self esteem and feelings of self worth, the proper grooming aids appear to be an essential part of the American psyche. This of course is even more important in the 'People's Republic' of Boulder where citizens frequently place importance on such inconsequential issues as ecology and human rights over personal appearance. It must be difficult to obtain quality items for personal use in Boulder. I would imagine one would have to journey long to such exotic places as Broomfield or Thorton to acquire these prized articles. These journeys however are a chief contributor to global warming. Your hair does look surprisingly bouncy and manageable. Your time spent locally must be arduous."
Entertaining, sure. But I wondered what was going on. He hadn't told me anything about himself or asked about me. He was in it for the game. Not a good sign, but I decided to play along.
I replied that night.
"I'm so glad you noticed - the whole hair thing is a defining issue, esp. if one has none. Then it becomes THE issue. Even in the 'People's Republic', where one would expect the hair to fit the lifestyle of the adventurous (short and out of the face) we have a few renegades, myself included. Which is not to say that I'm not adventurous, but I learned long ago that there's a direct correlation between looking good for the activity and getting picked for the team."
"Regarding global warming, I have not forsaken my community. I bike to work on occasion. Don't bike as often as my coworkers because it gives me helmet hair. (Any implication about the state of my coworkers' hair is unintentional.)"
"Sterling citizen that I am, I get involved in local issues and take a firm stand on our most crucial, i.e., relocation of prairie dogs (good as long as it's NIMBY), relocation of the Homeless Shelter (good again, as long as it's NIMBY), enlargement of the county jail (why not, provided its definitely NIMBY). Of course I have the solution to all of this: The City Council should move the prairie dogs to the current Homeless Shelter, relocate the Homeless Shelter to the current jail and move the inmates to Crossroads Mall, which has been almost vacant for two years."
"Having agree that hair tops the list (such a punster) of desirable traits, what's next? I have dimples and I think that should rank high on everyone's list."
Saturday, October 18, 2003
I was determined to find the mystery man - the one whom Linda thought was my guy. If my previous experience with internet dating had taught me anything it was to expect a flurry of pictures of guys with hats. No problem - I knew how to deal with guys with hats. I was prepared for guys with hats, but what was coming up on my monitor threw me totally off course. I was looking at guys with >beards, scores of 'em. Beards for every occasion; short, well-trimmed beards for formal wear and longer, scruffy ones for casual Saturdays. There were more than a few long, white, Rip Van Winkle beards, too. Or were they modeled after Father Time?
Of course there are some very sexy men with beards. For instance, . .. well, there's ... And let's not forget ...
It wasn't long before one profile caught my eye, for all the right reasons. No hat, no beard, no bow-tie. No smile either, but I decided to let that go. Why be picky? His screen name was "The Tease" and the narrative describing himself confirmed it. Under "About Me" he wrote:
"I used to have a problem with self-esteem. Then I saw a commercial on television with a beautiful blonde who told me I should buy a particular shampoo with a French name because 'I am worth it'. Well I never would have believed I was worthy of a personal grooming product costing more than $1.99 for the economy size let along a small bottle for over $5.00. This was, as you can imagine, a pivotal moment. Since then I have never looked back except when getting on a freeway or changing lanes. I am now a confident, dynamic person and I have to admit my hair looks better too."
Darn. He likes blondes. I'm a brunette. I skipped to the section entitled "Your Perfect Match."
"The girl in the shampoo ad to thank her ... but I digress. I would like to meet someone who is: 1. Emotionally available (translation: unmarried or whose husband travels at least four days a week). 2. Honest (translation: can keep track of her lies and does not contradict herself and confuse me). 3. Intelligent (translation: is hot and has a great body). 4. Giving (translation: makes enough money to support me in the manner in which a guy who uses shampoo with a French name is accustomed). 6. Never, and I mean never, says 'we've got to talk".
Huh. "The Tease" forgot to list a number 5. Guess attention to detail didn't make the cut.
On to his "Ideal Relationship"
"Having little or no depth perception this is a difficult question. If pressed however I would have to say the ideal relationship is one where the two parties were raised in different countries and therefore did not speak the same language. This creates a situation where there is no realistic hope for anything approaching a meaningful conversation. If the relationship ends, an ideal relationship would be one that does not result in a trip to either a hospital or bankruptcy court. Coming from two different countries also provides the advantage of possible deportation of the part of the second part thereby obviating those pesky phone calls that we all know will inevitably come."
Guess that means my Grandma Sweeney and my grandpa didn't have an ideal relationship, although I don't think they ever made it to bankruptcy court.
His "Perfect First Date"
"A bucket of KFC, (extra greasy), a bottle of good wine, (any varietal with a twist off cap or if unavailable a six pack of passion fruit wine coolers), some cookies, (made by elves hopefully wearing hairnets and who have washed their hands recently), a fully charged car battery, jumper cables, rubber gloves, a book of poetry by William Shatner, and Pee Wee Herman's great make out CD, "Sex In the Cinema: Me, Myself, and IYYYYYY".
Pee Wee Herman had a CD out? Who knew?
I took a deep breath and started reading what "The Tease" had "Learned From Past Relationships". I was kind of surprised that that wasn't left blank. You know, like when you sign a legal document and it says, 'This page intentionally left blank."
"Nothing, "those who do not learn from the past are destined to relive it. By ignoring lessons that should have been learned from past relationships I get that rush and excitement that comes from screwing up again and again. I find that it keeps things fresh and exciting. I call it the "Groundhog Day Effect." Oh, I have learned two things: 1. How to get locks changed in 4 hours or less and 2. How to avoid a wicked left hook."
Wow. He saw "Groundhog Day." Loved that movie - Bill Murray was such a stitch.
The stats revealed that "The Tease" was a 47 year old, divorced man, 6'2" with brown hair and blue eyes. He was a non-smoker, a runner, had grown up in Ohio and didn't have kids. He described his job as "Chairman" and said that he had a Master's degree with an emphasis in business.
This was interesting. I had grown up in Cleveland, was a non-smoker, a runner and also had a Master's degree.
He described himself as "sophisticated, worldly, adventurous, wild, spontaneous, artistic, humorous, intellectual and free-spirited."
Guess being the Chairman of Something left one with lots of free time. "The Tease" listed his activities as "aerobics, biking, working out/ weightlifting, running, hiking, walking, inline skating, roller skating, snow skiing, tennis and racquet sports."
So why was I not surprised when I read that his ideal match would be (gulp) 29? It had been so long since I was 29 that I couldn't even remember being 29. But that little voice in my head was acting up again, telling me that I could give this guy a run for his money.
With just a hint of trepidation I hit the "e-mail me" link next to his picture. Up popped a new screen, requesting (actually requiring) me to fill out my profile before I could contact members. Another exercise in filling in the blanks; height, weight, age, blah, blah, blah. But what was this? They wanted to know if I kept kosher. "I abstain from meat on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday." Synagogue? "A place where men with beards gather." Was I Conservative? "Yes, I wear a lot of navy blue." Another Stream? "I wanted to go to Woodstock, but my Mom wouldn't let me." Reconstructionist? "Took welding and sanding in Junior High." Reform? "Martin Luther King Jr. is my hero." Secular? "What kind of question is this? Sister Mary Joseph would turn in her grave at the thought." Unaffiliated? "Voted for Perot."
It was January 5th. I sent "The Tease" an introductory e-mail.
"Hi, I'm not Jewish."
Wednesday, October 15, 2003
I was kind of a skeptic when it came to the whole six degrees of separation thing, where we're all only six links away from Kevin Bacon. But an unseemly chain of events has caused me rethink my position.
Judy and David, who were engaged and lived in Atlanta, parted ways. Normally this wouldn't affect my life in the slightest, especially since I don't know either of them. But here's where that six degrees of separation thing comes in. Judy, who had previously lived in Boulder, decided to move back and stayed temporarily with my friend, Linda.
So it was, on one particular Saturday night that the two of them found themselves checking out guys. Judy, who is Jewish, logged on to a Jewish matchmaking website. Linda, who is not Jewish, sat shotgun. I had no way of knowing how much their cyber scoping would change my life.
Linda and I had a standing date to meet for breakfast at The Walnut Cafe on Sunday mornings. So on this particular outing, as we sipped tea and ate waffles smothered in berries and whipped cream, she told me about their previous night's escapades. And while she wasn't particularly impressed with what she saw, there was someone whom she thought I'd be interested in. She couldn't remember his screen name or anything about him, so I was left to my own devices if I were to find this mystery man.
I had very limited experience dating Jewish men. In fact, the only one I had ever gone out with was Barry Levine, who sat across from me in home room in high school. I went out with Barry twice, which was about one date away from going steady, which definitely would have cramped my style back then. So I moved on to Peter Noznick who sat behind me. (We were seated in alphabetical order and I had my eye on John Schultz, so there was no time to lose.) About the only thing my Mom said about going out with Barry was that Jewish people were a lot like the Irish except they didn't drink as much. And I wasn't supposed to repeat that in front of my Grandma Sweeney, whom I think is the reason we weren't allowed to have guns in the house. (She once hit my grandfather over his head with a frying pan on Easter Eve, which required a quick trip to the emergency room and a whole lot of stitches. After that episode we weren't allowed to have frying pans in our house, either.)
Finding the website was a no brainer. Logging on to it required more than a litle chutzpah on my part, considering that I'm Catholic and don't have a clue about the Jewish faith except what I had learned from watching "Exodus," and all I could remember from that was that Paul Newman was hot!
Anyway, in case you're wondering how my faith was restored in the six degrees of separation, it goes like this: Judy is a friend of Linda's, who is a friend of mine. I watched 'Exodus', starring Paul Newman. Paul Newman was in the 'Color of Money' with Tom Cruise. Tom Cruise was in 'A Few Good Men' with Kevin Bacon.
Sometimes I love being wrong. I could not be happier knowing that Kev and I are so tight.
Monday, October 13, 2003
My one week trial netted a few dates, the first of which was the hockey guy. He was from Canada and came to Denver to play hockey and go to college, in that order. After graduating he was recruited by the Red Wings, but chose the marriage and kids route instead. I was drawn to his profile because he had been a widower for twenty years and had raised his kids from the time they were preschoolers. I had only been a widow for two years but I had a feeling that he would be a great person to know. Also, he was a dead ringer for Robert Redford (somewhere between his "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid" days and "Out of Africa.") We met at Lo Do's Bar and Grill in Denver, a place where armchair jocks could feast on chicken wings and watch sports on really, really big TV's. I recognized him from his online picture, but was still blown away by his oh-my-God boyish good looks. He had blond wavy hair, sea blue eyes and possibly the most engaging smile I had ever seen. (This is not always the case with hockey players.) The clincher was that he was nice, really deep-down-to-the-core nice. The hockey guy sat next to me, which was standard fare since we were both watching the TV screen in front of us. The Av's were playing and he was giving me the play-by-play synopsis. (Some may think that the Bronco's own Denver, but they would be wrong. The Av's rule.) With his arm around my shoulder we talked about our spouses, our kids, our lives. I cried. I laughed. I cried some more. He took it all in stride, gently comforting me every time I started sobbing when I talked about my late husband and how much I missed him, how much my kids missed him. I had found someone who could empathize with what I had gone through for the past two years because he had been there. We were travelers on the same path, only he had already been where I was heading. He knew the road, had navigated the pitfalls and encouraged me to find my own way and not to follow someone else's map. Because no two journeys were the same.
I cried the whole way home. Not because it was a bad date. It was, in fact, a great date. Especially since it was the first date I had been on since the loss of my husband. But I was in unchartered waters without a compass and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't see land.
I regrouped and went out with the hockey guy again the following week. We met at the Cruise Room in the Oxford Hotel in Denver. This was a bar which was modeled after a lounge on the Queen Mary and as such, it was long and narrow. When I entered the front door I could see him standing at the far end of the room. He smiled when he saw me and once again I was drawn in by his smile. With oldies playing in the background, we reminisced about where we were when certain songs hit the pop charts.
Music has a way of drawing people together, identifying the common denominator between them. For us, it was the 60's. The hits of the Beatles, The Monkeys, Chad and Jeremy, the Rolling Stones - they took us back to a time when we had our whole lives ahead of us. It made me think again of how I wanted to turn back time.
I cried the whole way home.
My online dating behind me, I settled in for the winter with "The Gilmore Girls," "The West Wing," and "Friends." What a balanced life - my favorite drama sandwiched by two comedies. Just when I thought that prime time couldn't get any better, The Bachelorette made her way into my family room. At first I ignored it - this was, after all, reality TV - and nothing could make you feel like white trash faster than watching reality TV. (Unless it's telling people that you watch it, which I didn't.) My daughters, however, wouldn't send Trista, Ryan and Charley packing. So there I was plopped in front of the TV every Wednesday night, just waiting to see what was going to happen with someone else's lovelife. I probably should have felt pathetic, but I don't have that much class. So I was quite content to live vicariously through Rory, Lorelai, Rachel, Ross, Trista, Charley and Ryan.
But before you could say "rerun season" my idyllic world changed again...
Friday, October 10, 2003
Of course they didn't know that I knew about the hat thing. So I was swamped with pictures of guys wearing hats; baseball caps, fishing hats, biking helmets, and a multitude of stocking caps, presumably for skiing. Sure, it's possible these men were legitimate outdoor enthusiasts, in great shape and living life to the fullest. But the little voice in my head kept telling me that this was an unlikely scenario. The bar gene had been in remission for decades, but I was beginning to see symptoms of its recurrence.
The thing is, I don't think that being bald is unattractive, if you're a man. But I was a little concerned about anyone whose self-esteem was so low that he had to hide his head. One man actually held a map of Colorado strategically above his forehead, which at least was original. But again, there was the problem of self-esteem. It could be that he wasn't trying to cover up anything, which made me want to scream. Why, I ask you, would a reasonable person post a picture of himself holding a map of his state above his forehead?
Hatless guys didn't fare much better. You'd be surprised by the number of men who posted pictures that you just knew were taken by the DMV. Most of them hadn't even combed their hair, which was quite a dilemma for me because I wanted to tell them that if they weren't going to comb their hair, they should at least put on a hat.
Clearly I was getting nowhere. This felt like fishing on the Colorado River - catch and release all morning. But it wasn't a total bust. If nothing else I knew how the map guy ended up posting the picture that he did. It was after hours at the DMV.
Wednesday, October 08, 2003
If you haven't surfed the net looking for dates, I'm issuing a "spoiler alert." Do not read further than this.
When you log on to a dating website, (and there are scores of them) you have the option of displaying only profiles with pictures. If you're naive this seems like the sensible thing to do. (Yes, some might say that this is shallow and they're probably right, but being right and finding Mr. Right are two different things.) Realistically, viewing pictures is only a good idea if you're a drinker. This is based on the same principal as going to bars - everyone looks better after you've had a few drinks. (The other rule, of course, is that everyone looks better after 1:00 a.m., since the bars close at 1:30. You would think that the latter rule wouldn't apply to online dating, but you'd be surprised.)
As it turned out, my bar-scene experience from years ago was pretty darn helpful in deciphering the code of internet profiles. Any guy who showed up at the bar wearing a hat was bald (unless he was in a cowboy bar because he had rented Urban Cowboy the night before and still had that whole John Travolta/Debra Winger fantasy going). "Consultant" meant unemployed. And anyone wearing a bow tie - well, that was just plain bad, unless your name was Gordon Gee, who was NOT, to my knowledge, on a dating web site.
To lure you in, many dating websites offer a free, one-week trial period. This sounded good. What have I got to lose? Rhetorical question. I started by perusing profiles of all the single men in my age category (OK, maybe there were some younger ones in there, too.) who lived within 40 miles of Boulder. In retrospect this was a little ambitious. I should have started out profiling all the single men on my cul-de-sac, then in my housing development and then maybe the city. I stared helplessly at the computer monitor as dozens of pages, literally hundreds of profiles, popped up. Feeling guilty (since I had pulled up their profiles) I felt like I had to give each of them a fair chance. So there I was, three hours later and I hadn't contacted a soul. It was approaching 1:00 a.m. Furiously I stared sending "introductory" e-mails, each making the cut because they were hatless, bow-tie less, or had listed "unemployed" in their profiles. (The last category got points for honesty.)
I woke up the next morning regretting what I had done the night before, but it was too late. (I do need to add here, in case my kids read this, that I never had this problem when I went to bars.) My inbox was bursting. One thing I hadn't considered was that once I listed my profile, (a requirement) that random guys could contact me. And did they ever.
