Come on the Go!

This is such an obvious dating dumbass story that I completely forgot to mention it - until I heard it again on the plane back home.

Let me paint the picture: Imagine a cute guy with a wedding ring. Now, when I see the ring, I think "Hands off." I don't do married trade, I don't like to be the cheat-ee, I don't like to get in the middle. Nice to talk to, not nice to sleep with.

After a few minutes of really good conversation (of course, it's ALWAYS good with unattainable married men), he turns to me and says, "You know, my wife and I lead separate lives. I travel all the time and do my own thing. And she does her own thing while I'm away." ::insert meaningful pause here where he waits for me to respond accordingly::

OK, that's sooooo not a green light for me to go ahead. First, I always wonder how many wives out there know that their husbands are giving the "separate lives" speech. It's easy to say that you have an open relationship. But the reality is often a completely different story. Second, it's a piss-poor line besides. Am I supposed to be HAPPY about being their secret chickie on the road? Like, "Hey, I was thinking about beating off tonight. But you're cute. Why don't we have sex instead." Come ON.

Oddly, I've never head that line come out of a woman's mouth. If anything, it's more, "Yes, I'm married - but you're cute and I'd like to have sex with you." Not coming up with some elaborate line that doesn't make sense.

Granted, I do know a couple friends who truly do have a good "don't ask, don't tell" relationship. The husbands are on the road over 250 days a year and the couple have set some pretty strong boundaries outlining what works and what won't. I applaud those folks; it couldn't be easy having an unconventional relationship in a conventional world. But that's a whole different conversation. And one that doesn't take place within 10 minutes of meeting someone on a plane.

Back to Mr. Separate Lives. Sure, I listened and nodded in the appropriate places. And I did have a brief moment of wishing that he was single. But did I jump into bed with him the second I could? Nope. Sex is fun, but cheating sex lost its thrill in my 20s. I'm sure he found some young and dumb thing to listen to his separate lives tales of woe. But it didn't get any play with me...

Dumbass.

I was finally able to go to lunch after three hours of back to back conference calls. As I'm reading the Seattle Weekly (I'll miss that rag when I move to Portland), the man next to me says, "So, how you doing?"

Dammit, dammit, dammit. All I wanted to do is read my paper and not talk. But I'm nice (mistake #1) say, "Good, thanks" and immediately go back to reading. Not rude, but I wasn't engaging - you know? Normal guys would figure that I was into my paper and not in the mood to chat.

Then I hear, "Don't I know you from somewhere?" Dammit!

I take a deep breath, look up and say, "Nope, don't think so. Sorry.." And immediately look down at my paper.

He's got that look now - that look that screams, "Wow, she's talking to me. She's really really talking to me." Again, I don't want to be a major bitch with the guy. But I wasn't interested and I wanted to read.

Then I hear, "You know, I'm in a band" and starts to talk about touring.

ARGH, that's it. OK, first, I love dating musicians. They are fun and wild and creative and a tad dangerous (at least the ones I like.) They are also bad for me. Very bad. If I hear "musician" I worrry - no matter how much I love them.

But I'm not going to give a guy any play who's main come-on line is "I'm in a band." Come ON! Maybe that works when you're 18, but this guy was in his late 40s. Old enough to know better. Old enough to never, ever use that line.

Five minutes after I escaped to my car, my ex called. I mentioned the "I'm in a band" line and had a good laugh - my ex really is a world-class musician, and he knows how that line would do nothing but backfire.

Dear band dude: Next time (1) catch a clue when the woman isn't interested and (2) don't figure that being in a band is gonna get you chicks.

Dumbass.

So a guy at a coffee shop sits at my table and starts talking to me. Granted, I sorta knew him before - which is why I didn't blow him off. But I should have. Here's why.

Let's call him Mr. Jetsetter. Within 5 minutes of sitting down, he was naming off the various countries he's visited. Japan? Sure. The U.K.? Almost monthly. Italy? Well, of course. He's first-classing it here, and limo-ing there...and I knew he thought that his diatribe was impressing me. I'm sure it worked with other woman.

But if he wanted into my panties, that was so not the right way to do it.

First, I travel just as much (if not more) than him, to an equally number of cool places. But for whatever reason, he wasn't hearing that. I mentioned spending time in Syndey, and I got something like, "yeah, anyway..." before he launched into another dull story. You know the type.

I could handle that. It doesn't turn me on, but I can deal with the "my travel penis is bigger than your travel penis" stuff. What bothered me was his freakin' phone. It kept ringing - and he kept answering it. While sitting. At. My. Table. He didn't excuse himself to leave (even during a 5-minute call.). He didn't turn off his phone. He just kept answering and talking and answering. What the hell was that? I mean, doesn't common courtesy dictate that you leave the table? That is, if you HAVE to answer the phone.

Lemme tell you, I felt damn important, too. Hmm, I can talk to the beautiful blonde woman, or I can answer the phone. Yeah, I'll answer the phone. That'll turn her on. She'll hear how I take command. Yeah. Right.

And you gotta think: if he's this much of a dating dumbass before he even asks me out, what would he be like in 3 months? 6 months?

Yes, he asked. And no - no way would I date him. Not after that.

Oh yeah - we were arguing over what airplanes flew across the Atlantic. I said that I've taken 747's before. He said that 747's don't fly to the U.K.

So, I checked my latest plane ticket. I'm on a BA 747 flight.

Dumbass.