Kent had just moved to Boston. Wonderful, fresh meat, he hasn’t been ruined yet by the dating culture here. His profile wasn’t attention grabbing, but he was a physician at one of the hospitals. I had never gone out with a doctor before. My recent dates have consisted of men who live with their mothers. I wonder if he’s really smart? I hope I don’t sound stupid. We matched and with zero expectations of a date, I answered his response to my prompt.
Our first date was to a brewery. He suggested meeting at 8pm when the place closed at 9pm. I thought this was strategic on his end, 1 drink then get out. To my surprise he was ready to order food once we sat down. I agreed to split an app, but really I was just looking for drinks at that time. Kent was outgoing, smart (but not pretentious), and complimented me on my outfit. He was way more attractive than his photos, I’m convinced he recently got veneers because his teeth were perfect. He cautioned me that he shaved his “mountain man beard” for work, but had short facial hair growing in nicely. I hope for my sake that he keeps those old photos on his profile, so the women of Boston don’t flood him with likes and boost his ego.
Our date was really amazing. Shocking I know! After the brewery we went to a speakeasy. Kent was impressed that I thought of a spot on the fly, and walked us only 1 block to get there. He enjoyed the place and was a gentleman. At the end of the night we kissed in the alley, then I pointed him in the direction home. I was excited to get to know him better.
After a day or two of texting he told me he wasn’t looking for anything serious. I already saw that he marked “Figuring out my dating goals” on his profile, but what does this mean as a 35 year old man? IDK, but maybe this can be a PJ situation all over again (read Bad Wine). I can date Kent until I find a boyfriend to commit.
The second time we met was for a dinner date; knowing this ahead of time I went hungry. We shared tapas and a bottle of wine. At the end of the night we kissed again and some young kids walked by shouting about his “rizz.” We said goodbye, and that we were both looking forward to seeing each other again.
The next day I received a text message from Kent asking if I had plans the following week because he “wanted to rent a nice car and drive up and down the coast.” What?! This is coming from the same guy who told me “I’m not in the place for a serious relationship. I want to be sure that we’re on the same page.” Yet he’s suggesting we take a trip together. Boys are confusing.
I left you all hanging because our dates were starting to get a little boring. I had no sexual attraction to him, and the rizz that the kids were shouting about wasn’t there. I figured this guy out; behind his job title and perfect teeth, he was just a horny teenager. One time he tried to get to second base in the car. His hand dove down like a claw from the top of my spaghetti strap dress. Nothing polite or erotic about it. Another time he told him I was leaving him with blue balls after we made out on his bed. How old are we 15? I don’t think that’s something they teach in medical school.
Fast forward to date 5, when I finally invited him to my place. Kent walked into my condo and said “hey cutie, look at your place, it’s so cute!” He was outgoing, and I would let him do things at dinner like hold my hand as he was telling me a story, but I was sick of everything being so cute. The words he used seemed so juvenile to me.
Kent brought me a bottle of red wine and treats for my dog. Very thoughtful, but a slap on the ass and a “hey hot stuff” is more what I was looking for. After another dinner out — I am not complaining about this, but karma will get me because the next guy I will write about seemed to do everything to avoid dinner with me — we went back and started making out on the couch. At this point I realized I was over him because I didn’t even want to sleep with him. Then he said something I will never forget; he used a pubescent phrase to refer to my breasts.
“Can I see the girls?”
That was officially when I got the ick. No. I walked him out and this story ends with the classic, mutual ghosting.
Single at 30 