Mr. Friendly

I apologize because this post is way out of chronological order, but I'm finally getting around to writing it. The date I discuss actually occurred on the afternoon of December 24, 2004. To my readership of three, I appreciate your patience. (I'm assuming there are three, but I might be overly optimistic.)

My second Jdate was with a fellow I'll call "Mr. Friendly" (MrF, for short). In his profile, MrF stated that he really loves people. He also managed to tell me that he loved people several times upon our first (and so far only) meeting. He didn't send me a picture, but described himself accurately, so I knew him as soon as I saw him. He's cute, with a lot of thick, dark wavy short hair. He's short, maybe 5"6" and solidly built, but not fat by any means. Nice face, dark round eyes and a button nose. A cutie, really. Wearing jeans, and a long belted black leather jacket, a little goofy but not terrible. We met at the Hirshhorn to see the Ana Mendieta exhibit. All he could say was, "it's different. I like things that are different." I didn't talk much while we went through it because I was pretty fascinated. I think a museum is a great date, but sometimes I'm too absorbed to talk. Later, there is usually something to say. I didn't like all of this artist's work, and some of it was just bizarre, but it was interesting and very unusual and later stuff I found quite moving (I later had a good conversation about the exhibit with Archie, who, by the way, let me know in the kindest possible way that he didn't think we were suited but would love to be friends). MrF and I never really talked about any of it. To him it was "different" and seemed to end there. We strolled quickly through the rest of the museum and I pointed out a piece by Red Grooms that caught my eye. Later, MrF told me it was the favorite thing he'd seen. In fact, it was his new favorite artwork at the Hirshhorn, his favorite museum. Good lord, I thought, I've created a monster.

He was very friendly (duh) and eager. And I really wanted to like him. He was likeable. But, well, not boring, not like musical guy where I kept drifting off into my own private thoughts, but not to interesting either. And, I'm afraid, not terribly deep. No insights beyond the obvious observations on life. Our conversation didn't go far, mostly because I didn't have much to say to him. But the date went on and on because after we got something to eat he was supposed to meet other friends for a movie (other guys). He tried to get me to go. I was torn. I thought, well, I'll get to meet these other guys and maybe I'll like one of them. But then, I thought, they are his friends and probably not for me. Also, I was very tired and they were going to see National Treasure, which I had about zero desire to see, so I finally bundled myself off to home after spending almost five hours with him. Damn. That date was much too long. I also made the mistake of inviting him to my book group, so while I've dodged the follow-up date and only made the minimal answers to the daily emails he sends and didn't return the one call he's made, I probably will see him on Sunday. The email he sent today confirms that he's reading the book, Pale Fire, and also indicates a complete misinterpretation of the text. Oh, what have I done? What have I done? I need more book group members, but this, this could be bad. Sorry book group, I've gone and inflicted Jdate on you. That ain't right.