Effortless

I think there's something severely wrong with me, and I'm sure that most of my readers would agree. The reason that I think this is that, when I'm really interested in a woman, I tend to screw things up by getting too comfortable too fast and giving the appearance of a lack of effort. Then there are the times that I'm totally not into a woman and I end up somehow exuding so much more effort than I should for a reason that I haven't yet figured out.

When I first met Mandy, she did not make a very good impression on me, but somehow had me convinced that I owed her something. On that second meeting, I realized that there might be something more to this girl than I had originally given her credit for.

This was supposed to be our third date, which had previously been postponed, but it felt like more of a fourth date.

We had planned to meet somewhere downtown and have dinner with one another, but the night before we were supposed to see one another my phone started to ring and I immediately prepared myself for a cancellation. When I picked up Mandy launched into this long-winded explanation of why she wouldn't be able to make it out for dinner, something about how she had been called into work because her co-worker's random relative has a neighbour who cut down a tree and either destroyed their house or got crushed under a branch, I kind of stopped listening after the four-minute mark.

She apologized for having to change plans and asked if we would be able to change the meal from dinner to breakfast. She sounded kind of disappointed when I told her that I would be able to make it for breakfast, so we agreed to meet somewhere close to me, because I sure as hell wasn't putting myself out for her again, and we hung up.

The next morning I put on a nice shirt, did my hair, and prepared myself for a date that was taking place before noon, and headed off to the restaurant down the street. I waited in the lobby for Mandy for about ten minutes before she arrived, at which point I noticed that she most definitely wasn't a morning person.

She stumbled into the restaurant wearing flip-flops, a baggy tee and sweat pants, her hair stuck up in a messy bun, and I'm not really sure that she brushed her teeth or washed her face that morning, either. Not that that's a deal-breaker, but it would have shown at least some portion of effort on her part. I told her that it was nice to see her, and she responded in kind, but I was a little disappointed that she wasn't returning the dinosaur thermos to me, even though it was something of a gift but I'm not sure she really appreciated it in any way.

The conversation was...minimal once we were seated, because neither of us really had much to say to one another. I was a little uncomfortable with how homeless she looked while wandering in the real world, and she seemed a little uncomfortable with who I was in general.

Every time I tried to think of a conversation topic, like whether or not she had seen any interesting movies lately, she would shoot them down with monosyllabic responses.

I'm not sure why she even agreed to see me again, since she didn't seem in any way interested, but I guess the same could be said about me, since I had no interest in seeing her either. It was actually one of the strangest experiences that I've had, if only because both parties had agreed to go out with one another when we both wanted only to never see one another again.

She seemed to be beating around the bush about something, though I wasn't really sure what it was, since, if she had wanted to tell me to get out of her life, she would have been free to just never call me after flaking on our previous date.

Once we had finished our breakfast meal, in a silence that made even the wait staff feel nervous, we both gave each other fake smiles, asked how each other's meal was, and then said something along the lines of "...this was...nice." We stood up and went to pay for the meal, and I made certain that I was giving no indication that I wanted to see her again, because, really, I just wanted to walk away.

This is the part that I think is interesting: I went and paid for both of our meals, and she stood silently back watching me do so. It was only once I had my receipt in hand that she asked "can I talk to you for a moment?"

Well, Mandy. You've had an entire meal to talk to me, but, yes, now that you've gotten out of paying for your food, feel free to let loose. She avoided my eye as she told me that "[she] just [didn't] see us working out, and [I] just [wasn't] putting in much of an effort."

I have to be honest: I have never put this much effort into anything in my life, and I'm likely never to do so again. Especially not for someone that I borderline hate.

I took her words in for a moment, scanning her up and down to count how many stains were littering the pajamas she wore out of the house, and I chuckled a little indignantly. "I just don't think," she started to say, but I waved my hand and said "no, that's fine. Have fun at work." I started to walk away, but still found myself holding the door for her own exit, and, as she passed me, she told "[not to be] mad at [her]."

So that's the end to this tale of romance. I felt great elation in deleting Mandy's number from my phone.