Dopp Juice Archive

I’m thankful that I can still pull out my New Hampshire plaid shirt and rock the farmer-girl look when green beans and sweet potatoes are hitting the table.

I’m thankful that two years ago, I spent my first Thanksgiving in San Francisco roaming the streets alone, seeing the holiday from a completely different perspective. I’m equally thankful that this year, I’ve had more turkey dinner invitations than I could say “yes” to. Much to my surprise, I’m attending four of them (one of which is being described online in mouth-watering detail). I’m thankful that this means I’ve made friends in this city, many of whom I’ve started calling “family.”

I’m thankful that my family of origin is healthy and safe and doing well. My mother, a minister, doesn’t have to work today. Neither does my step-father, a business owner. All five of their children are off in different cities sharing thanksgiving meals without them, and they are home, quiet, feeling immensely thankful to be home for once, and to be able to be quiet.

I lost a grandfather this year –a big man of few words who always carved the Thanksgiving turkey when I was growing up. I remember his large, calloused carpenter hands. They built things for us. They carried us. They were rocks.

I still have five living grandparents. Five. I have a lot to be thankful for. And somewhere in New Hampshire, there is an 8-year-old girl who thinks her Cousin Sarah is the most exciting person in the whole entire world, and I take that responsibility very seriously.

I’m thankful that I found the tech industry (or maybe that the tech industry found me). I spend every day in awe that there is a community and an economy that values all of my skills, embraces my independent style, and pays me well enough to live in this (expensive) beautiful fairytale land of a city. I accepted a position at a new firm yesterday. My gratitude and excitement are uncontainable.

And I’m thankful I didn’t wake up this morning with a Surfer Dude next to me. And I’m hopeful that if he figures out how to spell my last name and decides to google me, he’ll forgive me for my recounted perspective on our evening.

Please remember the pilgrims today, and vow to be much more sincere and respectful than our country’s origins teach us to be.

Cheers!

This post concludes the three-part saga:

• CrazyBlindDate.com: Field Research in Extreme Social Media Sports
• CrazyBlindDate – Cover me, I’m goin’ in!

At the risk of being a real jerk to some poor, nice, innocent man on the Internet, I’m going to tell the truth:

THAT DATE SUCKED!

First off, thank you to my twitter posse for watching the play-by-play and offering me escape routes when things went South. One of you offered to come pick me up, and another called me to pretend that her car had exploded and that she needed me–and only me–to come and rescue her right now. That was awesome. Fortunately, I didn’t need it. Surfer Dude got the hint and let me leave on my own free will.

But let’s back up. Things started off fine. Well, sort of.

CBD has this neat thing where they enable text messaging between parties 30 minutes before the date. He texted me first (10 points right there), and agreed to meet early (another 5 points). He was fabulous and charming in those few, brief text messages. Yay CrazyBlindDate!

A few minutes later, he showed up in a hat with a marijuana leaf on it, a glazed look in his eyes, and a slow voice. He then proceeded to forget the first few things I told him about myself. (minus 20 points)

But as we moved from pizza place to bar, he started talking, opened up, and became charming again (10 points!). Then he bought me a beer (5 points). A Chimay, actually (‘nuther 5 points).

But when the conversation shifted from “what do you do for a living?” to sexuality in San Francisco, and he became politely — and quite sincerely — homophobic (minus 50 points).

The clinching line was, “You know, I think it’s okay for women to be lesbians, but not for men to be gay. I used to think that was a sexist statement, but now I believe it’s just natural. See, lesbians turn men on, so that makes it okay.” (minus 100 points.)

And then, to solidify the logic: “Well, if gay men turned women on, I think more men would be gay. ‘Cuz men will do anything to have sex. I mean, with women. So men would be gay to have sex with women.” (Can we just drop an anvil on his head right now?)

Then we got personal, and such gems fell out of his mouth as “Have you ever tried to be feminine?” (I’m wearing lipstick, eyeliner, and cleavage, you asshole) and “Maybe you could wear a wig next time…” (I had stopped keeping track of points by now). He finished by reassuring me that I’m cute, even though it seems like I try not to be. (Gee, thanks.)

Then he reached out, stroked my arm, rubbed my ears, and offered to take me back to his place to watch horror movies so he could watch me squirm. (“Do I look like the squirmy type?” I asked. “Oh yeah,” he said.)

There were more comments, but frankly, I don’t think they’re appropriate for a public blog post.

The worst part was he was so kind in his misogyny. I actually felt bad for him. And he was sensitive to the fact that we were living on different planets. One of his sweetest statements, as he rubbed my wrist inappropriately, was “Isn’t it amazing how two people who are so different can get along so well?”

That was when I realized I was being far too polite, and it was time to go.

When he offered to give me a ride home, I flat out lied to him and told him I had a friend nearby that I needed to visit. We hugged briefly and walked away in different directions. I waited until he wasn’t looking and then ducked into a store. Five minutes later, I saw him walk past the window: he had walked in the opposite direction of his car just to get away from me. Well, at least the date was a mutual failure.

But as lame as all of that was, I still think CrazyBlindDate is amazing. The website, at least. It’s wonderful. The people? Well, I guess you get what you get. Be prepared for some rotten apples. Or maybe, just put on your “every problem is an opportunity” hats, and see what you can learn from the situation.

For example, I learned that there ARE still idiots in the world. Somehow I had forgotten this.

(I wonder who I’ll get for my date for Friday night!)

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I’m meeting Surfer Dude in just over an hour. Reality is starting to sink in. This has the potential to be very strange.

(Fortunately, I’m still mostly entertained by the whole thing.)

Watch twitter — hopefully i’ll be able to send smoke signals from the ladies’ room!

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