So here we all are for, hopefully, the final instalment about my adventures with B. I do hope any future dates I go on do not provide this much blog fodder, no matter how entertaining they’ve been for the rest of you.
Onwards to the misogyny and my wrap up at the end.
Well, there’s nothing quite like being told on a second date that of course you’re not a very good driver, and not to worry about it too much because girls can’t drive. Said with a completely straight face, not meant in a teasing, stirring kind of way. Absolutely serious. And for the record, we weren’t in a car when this was said, he hadn’t seen my driving, and I never said I was a bad driver at any point. I’m so lucky, I got a dose of his Fresh! Manly! Wisdom! without even asking for it!
At one point, on the second date, we were talking about computers and I mentioned that my brother has four monitors and two awesome computers, then mentioned that I have three monitors, two computers and a laptop. My brother’s setup got a “nice”, mine got a “but why do you need that, you’re a girl?” And once again, he was being completely, 100% serious. No joking. I don’t even actually know how to answer a question like that. The mind boggles at the thogut processes it takes to end at a point where that question is logical.
On Sunday night we were watching ‘Me, Myself and Irene’, a movie he assured me would make me love Jim Carrey. Yeah, so not happening. One of the racist, sexist movies I’ve ever had to sit through, with fairly little to redeem it. It’s the second time I’ve ever turned a movie off halfway through it and just said ‘no, I’m not watching that’*. He, of course, could not understand what was so bad about the movie or how it was sexist. I thought he was testing my intelligence when he asked for examples, but he was well and truly stumped. Plateboy did ask if I meant the character ‘Hank’, but felt that was not a valid concern as that character is clearly supposed to be sexist. And hey, you know what? I guess if it’s intended, it’s ok right? no. It’s not.
So, for better or worse, there you have the very brief outline of what was wrong with plateboy/B. Just before I left on Monday morning he felt it necessary to let me know that I’m still on my probationary period and that not many girls** make it through probation. Guess what? He didn’t make it through his.
Now, on the first date there were a few random warning signs. Not many, but a few. He described a student teacher at his school (my age, for the record) as a “pretty little thing”. I let this slide. I often find myself pulling back and trying not to judge everyone as harshly as I would like to. I know that everyone slips up, hell, even I do more often than I’d care to admit. So, with that in mind, how do we know what to forgive and what to take as a warning sign? I guess it’s a similar point to what I was getting at in my ‘arguing‘ post.
If I hold out for a radical feminist ally, will I be alone forever? Ex Nigel (now forever known as EN) was not as awake when we met as he was when we broke up. He learnt from me, without me needing to hold his hand or be his teacher. he actively sought out information, and read my books when I was finished with them. But he wasn’t that way at the start, so if I write guys off from the start, I’d lose out.
There’s a line and I need to find it and I’m not sure if I ever will. Or if it’s worth finding. It’s possible I’d be happier if I took myself out of the dating game altogether. Not sure.
Tell you what, certainly starting to hate men a hell of a lot more than I used to. Haven’t seen much of my male friends lately to help change my mind on that either.
In the meantime, plateboy is still smsing me almost daily. So I hope it’s over. But given my totally out of character behaviour so far with this guy, I can’t guarantee it is. And that depresses me. I have to say, though, it’s almost worth going back just to post this on his door:
As for my plate, well I was shopping tonight and I bought myself a new dinnerset that I like more than my original one. And it’s pinker 🙂
*The first was Knocked Up. Urgh
**pt, he used the word here, that’s why I’m repeating it. I’m aware I’m a woman.