When running a quick Google search I learned that Google's index of web pages is the largest in the world, comprising of billions of web pages. I also learned that they employ 2,668 employees and growing, yet I am not one of them despite my best efforts and applying three different times over the years. But I digress...
If Google is one of the largest online indexes in the world, then Google and I are going to have to sit down and have a little chat. Why? It has been wreaking havoc on my dating life!
Apparently, Google has become such the norm that not only does my spell check recognize it, but apparently all of my dates use it to do a little light stalking, ahem, I mean research before we meet. To get a taste of what comes up when Googled, I tried Googling (See! It's so popular I even use it as a verb) myself and came up with a ridiculous amount of hits. The first few links provided were my Twitter account (follow me on Twitter at ggrish), my Facebook fan page entitled, "Gena Grish: Professional Dater and Huffington Post Blogger (http://www.facebook.com/pages/Gena-Grish-Huffington-Post-Blogger-and-Professional-Dater/354837999098), a few of my entries for The Huffington Post and then a website that referred to me as a Fem-Nazi multiple times after reading some of my posts (that one is my favorite). Based on this research, I have concluded that I should have used a pen name and since I didn't, I'm seriously thinking of giving future suitors a fake name.
This whole Google fiasco didn't become apparent until my most recent date with a man we will call, "WWVD." He was pretty religious; hence the play on WWJD (What Would Jesus Do), and his name began with a V, thus spawning the running inside joke between my roommate and I referring to him as WWVD. I met him online, and the first thing that hit me about him was his sense of humor. Saying he was hysterical is an understatement. Our first few conversations were filled with gut busting one-liners and an easy back and forth banter. In case you haven't noticed by now, a sense of humor is a major factor in my mate selection.
The night before our first date was to take place, I was with some friends having margaritas, and he texted me and said that he had Googled me. He now wasn't sure if it was a good idea that we go out because he didn't think that he would live up to my expectations based on my previous blog entries, and didn't want to become fodder for a future article (oops). When I first read the text I thought he was kidding seeing as most of our conversations were joke after joke, and so I responded with something to the effect of, "If you're fishing for a compliment, you couldn't have caught me at a better time. I'm on my third margarita!" He then texted back saying that he was, in fact, being serious and he wanted to cancel our date.
Even tipsy I recognized the giant red insecure flag that just hit me over the head, but I am not one to back down from a challenge, so I tried talking him down from the ledge by telling him that I don't have a certain type of man and when I meet new people, I don't go in with pre-conceived notions of how they are going to be, and that perhaps he should try the same thing because I'm not as mean as my entries might make me sound. That seemed to do the trick, and we had our first date the next night.
WWVD and I met at a bar around the corner of my house and ended up having a really great night. He was everything I thought he would be and I didn't stop laughing once the entire night. I went home with a big grin on my face and a stomachache from laughing so hard for so long. Our next date however, did not go nearly as well. The beginning of our date went off without a hitch. He was being very affectionate by touching my arm when the moment called for it, leaning in when he talked to me and even gave me a quick kiss at one point. All systems were a go for another great night until all of a sudden, he looked at me and goes, I think we should leave, this isn't going as I had planned. Huh?
What happened next is even more bizarre seeing as it came out of left field. He launched into this tirade about how he thought I was too feisty (Um, he knew this. It wasn't the first time we had spoken) and too quick with the one liners, and then told me that I should be more vulnerable and have less walls up and that I'm exhausting to keep up with. Again...huh?
I have too many walls up? Really? How would you know that after one and a half dates? And you know what? If I do, so what? How do you expect me to be vulnerable after not even two dates? I'm not sure what type of women he was used to dating in the past, but I would bet this week's paycheck that he would be hard pressed to find women who let their guard down that quickly. Before my mind had stopped spinning, I realized he had paid the bill and we were now on the street arguing. I never do that. Ever. But I was so pissed that he came at me with such harsh, unfounded accusations that I couldn't help myself. Then the truth came out. The last thing he said to me before I got into a moving cab was, "Gena, I mean, what do you want with me anyway? I'm just a 5'9 theater nerd. I'm totally not your type." There you have it - his insecurities rearing their ugly head again. Insecurities that he probably would have never thought of had he not Googled me, read my blog and walked into our dates with preconceived notions of what type of man I normally date and what type of person he thought I was.
Now, before you say it readers, I did feel a little bad after that date and reached out to him because I thought to myself that maybe he was a really good guy, and the more we hung out, that he would hopefully see that I'm not that person he thought that I was. We ended up going out a few times a week for about a month and a half after that and every other date was a disaster. When things were good, they were great and I never laughed so hard in my life. But when things were bad, they were terrible, and he would always make me feel like I was a horrible person.
Our last conversation started and ended with him saying to me, "Jesus Christ (Whoa there fella! You being all religious and what-not, you probably shouldn't be using the Lord's name in vain) Gena, you are such a f-ing bitch to me." Then he deleted me from his Facebook for a second time, but this time he blocked me completely...and that was that.
My hope is that I will find someone who can handle me for who I am...sass and all. I know that I'm feisty, but there is also a very sweet side to me as well and he barely scratched the surface with me. Perhaps he was right though. Perhaps I do have walls up with new people, but it's just because I'm cautious about giving my heart away to people who don't deserve it and someone who called me a "f-ing bitch" definitely doesn't deserve it.
As mad as I am at Google for putting my life out there for everyone to see, I know it's the nature of the job, and I will just have to deal with it. Or better, I will eventually find someone who is confident enough in themselves and who they are in order to take on the challenge of stepping up to the plate to be a good man; the type of man I won't want to write about.
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