www.match.what?

Recently I joined Match.com. I work around a lot of gay men and am tired of the bar scene,so I thought maybe I should give Internet dating a try. I just wanted to go on a bunch of dates and have some fun. But there is something about the Internet world that I don't click with. Some people have great fun with it or even find a partner. I, however, have gone on one date and broke up with somebody I hadn't even met.

Allow me to shed some light on the situation. People are weird, and desperate, and lonely. I am not saying that I am any different, but I know me, and therefore am completely normal and never desperate and... okay... fine. I can get lonely sometimes. Although I do consider Simon and Garfunkel's song, "I am a rock",to be written for me.

My first internet date was the other night. On my way to meet this man, I hadn't even talked on the phone with, I had the usual conversation in my head. "I don't care, I would have more fun at home, I don't think I'm going to be attracted to him. What if I am attracted to him? Can I handle that? I'm not good at handling that. I don't like this, being single is really not that bad. I would rather not be interested and have him not interested, and then we can both walk away unscathed.". Chances are the latter will happen. And that's the way I like it.

I told him I would meet him at a Starbucks. A central place in case he is a killer, there would be many witnesses. I didn't really look much at his profile, so I was beginning to doubt I would even be able to recognize him. I saw a man on his phone walk in. I thought maybe that was him because he gave me a look of "Do I know you?". Then he continued to pass me. I thought to myself, that was him, and he didn't like the way I looked. Well, he was the one who asked me out. I didn't wink him or make him my favorite. If he doesn't want to talk to me after seeing me in person, fine, I didn't like you anyway. That's my classic line I use to pep myself up when I feel I've been slighted.

And then of course, the actual guy walked in. He was nice. We found a table and began to talk. He seemed normal enough; the conversation was fine; he was very polite. After about twenty minutes, I was done. But he wanted to go somewhere else. I hate situations like these, because I begin to feel guilty. I am reminded in my head of all the times I have felt jilted. So we went for a drink.

We sat down, this time on a couch, where we were side by side. I could already see what was happening, and I wasn't into it. As we were sitting and talking, his hand moved around my shoulder. I did everything to distance myself from him without actually physically moving away for fear of hurting his feelings. I even began to ramble on about travel and my childhood pets hoping that he would get bored. I was almost finished with my beer and then explained that I had to get home to help my new roommate move into my apartment. Lucky me, he was taking the same train as myself. As we were walking to the train, he proceeded to hold my hand.

Now, I didn't want to hold this man's hand, but I didn't want to be mean-so what could I do? I will tell you this though, I maintained a very loose grip. During the walk, he asked me what I was doing over the weekend. I said I was very busy, and then he went on to say that he enjoyed himself and hoped I felt the same. No, I didn't feel the same - but what could I say? I said nothing as I do many times in life when I would rather not voice my opinion for fear of hurting someone else's feelings.

We got on the train and at this point my guilt for not being interested began to turn to annoyance at his refusal to get the point. If you have to ask if I mind if you hold my hand, I mind. He took my hand in his and then brought it up to his face. My hand was limp in his and I pulled it away and began to hit my leg. Don't ask me why, but I thought that this action was indicative of me needing to do something important, like hit myself in the leg. The train came to a halt, and I began to laugh aloud. "What's so funny?" he asked. This train ride is turning into purgatory, but instead I said something like "The conductor's voice". I don't work well under pressure.

We finally arrived at his train stop - freedom was moments away. Fortunately, he did not go in for the kiss. If he had, I had already decided that I would go into an uncontrollable fit of coughing or burp unexpectedly. We said goodnight, and at that moment a friend called. I answered the phone and she said, "You're done already? Short date." I replied, "Not short enough.".