Greg was a really nice guy who I dated for 2 months. Greg was clean cut, tall, good-looking, educated, no baggage, total gentleman, and paid for everything. What more can a girl ask for right? Finally… a decent guy! I’ve hit the jackpot right? Wrong….oh, so wrong.
The problem was…Dating Greg felt like I was: (a) eating a heaping mound of oatmeal for dinner (b) watching a riveting documentary on how cement is made (c) taking several Xanax. Or doing everything above at the same time.
Greg was boring. And I mean BORING. If boring was a small nation under corrupt dictatorship, Greg would be the supreme leader of “North Borelandia.” If boring was a novel, Greg would be the best-selling author of “50 Shades of Boring” … You get the picture.
Greg’s clothes were boring. His hair was boring. His conversation was boring. His apartment was boring. No signs of personality, no signs of life on Planet Boring. Yet, I continued to see him.
The onus of bringing the conversation game was always on me. Once I threw something into the convo pit, Greg would bite and start talking. He’d possibly say something moderately interesting. But the default would always go back to dull. There were never any curve balls thrown. He’d give his response and then obediently toss the ball back to me, waiting for the next pitch. There was ZERO mental stimulation. There was no “Oohhhh what will he say next?!” Just typical banal dating small talk. Not a single spark in the conversation, and after about 3 dates, I needed a firecracker.
I chatted away about my upbringing, sports, politics, people, food. Basically, I became a human Jeopardy board, trying desperately to Alex Trebek my way into a topic where we could connect. A couple of times he smiled and said: “Wow this is great conversation!!!” Yes it is…for YOU Greg. I am doing all of the work. This is how guys must feel when girls just lay there during a hook up. Now I can empathize with you gentleman. (And excuse me I have a few people to call and apologize to).
And the dull conversation wasn’t the only problem with Greg.
The boringness of Greg must have existed within him at a cellular level. And unfortunately his body was not immune to the “sickness”. Greg’s ahem, lower region was no different than his personality. Neither one could stimulate. And for your reading pleasure here is a timeline of the multiple attempts made by the No Pump Chump.
1st attempt: Greg says — “I’m so sorry you are so hot you make me nervous!” (Aw very sweet right?)… Me- “Ok..,No prob, we can cuddle.”
#2: Greg says — “I’m too drunk”….Me: “Ok no worries, it happens” (another one to add to the “Whiskey Dick Files”)
#3: Greg says — “I’m not feeling well. I think I’m getting a cold. And I’m on meds for my allergies that um, affect me down there”….Me- “Ugh, geez Greg I’m sorry to hear that. Would you like me to make you some soup?” (Thankfully he declined.)
#4: Greg says — “God you’re hot I’m sorry don’t know what’s wrong.”…Me- “Um, ok it’s fine Greg. Who needs chill when we can just Netflix all night long?”
#5: Greg says — “Sorry I think I’m too drunk again.”…Me- “Really Greg but you only had like one Mike’s Hard Lemonade on a full stomach & you’re 6’5″. Okay.”
Needless to say I gave up. In all fairness I think Greg sensed I wasn’t into him and that didn’t help the situation
I let Greg down easy, gave him the whole spiel and told him he was a great guy. I was honest and told him the hard truth, straight up — That I just wasn’t feeling the chemistry.
Greg pleaded for another chance and even offered to show me a note from his doctor verifying he was on these mysterious allergy meds.
“I’ll get off the medication” he said… “Things will get better.”
Ugh, sorry Greg, this is dating, not calling in sick to work. And my vagina will not be not cutting your checks or giving you comp time.
Comical Cupid Dating Lesson: A person isn’t a grocery list and you can’t set out looking to check off as many boxes as possible. Even though I wasn’t feeling it early on, I kept pushing forward, hoping the next date would somehow be better. Because Greg hit a lot of the markers of a good catch I thought I should keep giving it a chance, even though I knew the most important boxes, the meeting of the minds and the sexual chemistry, just weren’t there for me.
I need my “brain fix” with someone. Give me those conversation curve balls that keep me on my toes. Those curve balls are essential. Without them you will also be sent on a glorious trip to the island of Bore-a-mas. Just make sure to bring a good book…and your vibrator.