Sunday, October 27, 2013


Me on the ferry
Nobody died. My leg isn’t filled with shrapnel from a pipe bomb. It’s not even raining.

That puts things in perspective.

My losing streak continues. Status quo. Ho hum. Still, it doesn’t feel so good.

I am cursed with bad luck when it comes to dating. I keep thinking it has to turn around, but that damned bad luck bucket is bottomless. I kick it and it keeps rolling right back.

I barely slept last night. I’d like to think it was from too much pasta but, yeah, I was looking forward to today’s date. This one felt different. I was truly interested, fully invested. I wanted it to work. My alarm went off at 6:45, I got up, fed the dog and then headed out while it was still dark to fit in a jog. I hate any form of morning exercise, but with the date set for the middle of the day, an early run was the only option.

Back home, I decided to forego the electric shave for a smoother, bloodier process. I spritzed on my new Hermès cologne—can’t wear it in the workplace; everything is scent sensitive. I tried on a half dozen shirts multiple times and went through equally indecisive rounds for pants, socks and shoes.  Sometimes that dang ferry is a blessing. It’s the only thing that got me out the door.

The sailing was beautiful: sunshine, a hot cup of Starbucks, a little table to do some writing. Then, the text came.

Ahh crap James. I have to take a rain check today. Some of my staff called in sick and I have to go in to work. So sorry. Really wanted to see you.

Clive runs his own business. Work happens. I get it.

Of course, it would have been nice to know before I spent fifty bucks on the ferry. And now I’d have at least two hours to kill before catching the next ferry.

We texted back and forth. There was a possibility he could leave at some point in the afternoon. Fine. It was a rare occasion to linger in Vancouver. I could call some friends, shop, find a café to write. There are many ways to make lemonade.

But first I got a cinnamon bun. I deserved some comfort food.

I couldn’t reach anyone so I passed the day shopping. Yes, I contributed $1,300 to the Vancouver economy. It wasn’t all clothes. Bought a chair, too. I can’t attribute the spree to Clive. I’ve been finding great joy in shopping of late. With all I’m saving on commuting costs, the money has to go somewhere. Paying down the mortgage is the responsible thing to do, but it doesn’t have the wow factor of a new purple jogging jacket and green jeans. (How is it I’ve waited this long for a pair?!)

My credit card still had plenty of room, but I’d reached my limit. No word from Clive. I headed back to the ferry terminal.

No date for today. My dog deserves a little weekend time. And frankly, I’m not feeling so excited anymore.


Rick Modien said...

But this isn't hopeless, RG. It's nothing more than a temporary setback.

That is, unless you got the impression Clive didn't want to see you after all and made up the excuse that he had to go into work. If that's the case, then you have good reason to be disappointed.

But I didn't get that from what you wrote, not at all. Get back up on that horse, contact the dude, and make another date with him.

Listen, the bottom line is, you deserve good things to happen to you. You deserve to meet a wonderful man. And you deserve to be madly in love.

So stop giving up so easily. Stop using words like "hopeless." Start believing you could really find the right man, because, honest to goodness, you could. No, you will.

I know. You think I'm the eternal optimist. Maybe. But, as far as I'm concerned, finding love is the only option. It was the only thing I wanted before I met Chris, and I would have settled for nothing less. Ever.

Tim said...

maybe you should only date people that come to see you the first time, that way you know they already understand the limitations of dating someone on an island, and are able to make the time to do it.

Rural Gay said...

I do appreciate the optimism, Rick. I trust that you can also imagine where I'm coming from. I've dated for all of my forties &, while I was certainly dating challenged two decades ago, it is a different beast. It's a smaller pool, predominated by the walking wounded. (Suppose that includes me.) Also, online both helps and hinders matters. And, of course, my home base is another complicating factor. Had I lived in the Vancouver area, I could have shrugged off the cancellation.

I do rebound and find hope again, but the setbacks are harder to work through. My gut tells me I'll never hear from Clive again. In the online/ADD world, you get one shot and then they move on. I do hope I'm wrong this time.

I did reach out again last night. Haven't heard a word yet...

Rural Gay said...

Hi Tim,
Oh, wouldn't it be wonderful for someone to come my way for the first date. No one has ever offered.

I'm the one that got myself to this inconvenient place; I'm the one who takes on the initial inconvenience. The hope is that after a first date, the right guy will choose to venture my way!