I'll tell you what I want, what I really really want

In the past when all my girlfriends were single they would sit around and talk about the kind of guy they were looking for.

Sometimes the lists were quite extensive.  Tall, blonde, great job, sexy car, own property, great relationship with parents and good taste in jewelry.

Did they want their future partners to be sensitive, attentive to their needs, to buy them flowers every week, to get them a hot water bottle and rub their back when they had period pain?

For me I’d never thought about any of these things.  I had no idea what I had to offer in a relationship so what did I know about what I was looking for?

After dipping my tootsies into the dating pool I’ve had a think about it and narrowed it down to this:

I want a man who is funny!  And I know ALL girls say this but I’m serious, my guy has to be able to bring some serious A+ witty banter to the table.

He must also be forceful, not in a ‘I’m going to smash you in the face’ kind of way, but a ‘I know what I want and I’m going to get it’ way.

And that’s it.

That’s all I’m looking for.

And then there was Pete.  The absolute opposite of what I’ve just said I wanted.

Pete was in his early 40s, cute, well traveled and THOUGHT he was witty, he THOUGHT he could keep up with me, he THOUGHT he was direct.  And that was where the problem was.

We met online and when we first started emailing he seemed sweet and sort of interesting.  There was a little wit to start with but I thought maybe it might grow and develop when he realized what I was like.

It didn’t.

I don’t do subtle.  And I’m direct.

I used those exact words to Pete in an email hoping it might encourage him to stop being such a Nancy.

I don’t know why I didn’t finish it with him earlier than I did but perhaps I was hoping it would get better or maybe I was just appreciating the attention of a man.

Alarm bells started ringing for me when he found it difficult to ask for my number.  He sort of tried to subtly suggest we should talk about our travels but never asked for my number.  I mean, come on Pete, we’re both on online dating and we’ve emailed back and forth a bunch of times, we have nothing to be coy about.  Clearly I’m not going to shoot you down so be a man and ask a chick for her number!

I have to admit that I didn’t make it easy for him.  My response was to tell him that if he wanted to swap travel stories then he had to ACTUALLY ask for my number.

He thought I was being funny and not picking up on his subtlety.  

*sigh* Did I not just tell you I don’t do subtle?

So he gets my number and he texts me.  And in his first text he referred to me in the third person.  Yes, I said third person.

“What is Shannan doing?”

DING DING DING DING do you hear those alarm bells?  Sheeesh!

But no, I kept plodding on thinking I could handle it.

But the clincher was when he couldn’t ask me on a date.

Seriously?  We’ve emailed, you’ve got my number, one would suspect that I was interested and wanting to meet you and STILL you can’t ask me out?

Men, for future reference this is not the way to ask me out.

“I wonder what your schedule is like this week”.  That was it, that was him asking me out!

You wonder?  You WONDER?  You’re going to be wondering a while mate, but if you actually ask me a question you’ll get an answer a lot quicker!

Foolishly I agreed to go on a date with him - after I forced him to ask me out properly.

In the end I never ended up meeting Pete.  It was too hard.  I knew that it wouldn’t work and that I was wasting not only my time but also his.  I knew what I wanted and it wasn’t Pete.  And I didn’t want to be one of those girls that dates just for practice or to get a free drink and a meal and have a guy fawn over her.

I’m sure Pete is a lovely guy.  He was sweet.  Very sweet.  That’s the only thing I could say about him.  But sweet just isn’t enough.  For me sweet is like a bonus, like the cherry on top of the sundae.  The sundae is really the best bit, it’s why I’ve bought it.  There’s all that delicious ice cream and hot fudge sauce and a few nuts.  And on the top there’s a cute red cherry.  It looks great but it’s only a teeny tiny part of the sundae.  And to be honest I don’t like cherries anyway!

And I’m sure there is some girl out there that will lap up Pete’s shy, sweet demeanor.  A girl who would love a whole bowl full of cherries.  But it’s not this girl.  No SireeBob!