Bad Date Chronicles — When He Yawns so Hard He Cries

The Neurotic Dater
Jul 10, 2017 · 3 min read

I went on a date yesterday that I thought was going well. Until I realized it wasn’t.

W and I had been texting for a couple weeks prior to meeting up. First I was out of town, and then he was. He stayed in touch while he was on vacation, asking me how my week was going, what I was doing for the Fourth of July, and about my creative pursuits. After another first date earlier this week where the guy admitted he hadn’t even glanced at my Coffee Meets Bagel profile, I was cautiously excited. W seemed sweet and genuinely interested in getting to know me.

Looking up “yawn” pictures made me yawn. For real.

I usually approach first dates with a sort of weary “here we go again” attitude, trying to mentally prepare myself for a disappointing night of boredom or lack of chemistry/attraction. As I waited outside the bar we agreed to meet at, he came up to me, and my weariness was quickly replaced by pleasant surprise. He was even cuter in person, sharply dressed, and just as sweet as over text.

We went up to the rooftop, where the air was warm and the sun was just about to set. As it got darker, fireworks went off in the distance. W was a great conversationalist. He was creative and loved the arts, traveled, and had a fascinating job working on anti-corruption issues. He was inquisitive and friendly with an easy smile. His charm gave away his Southern roots, even if his accent didn’t.

My own charm seemed to have escaped me that evening, as it usually did when I was attracted to someone. I became nervous, stammering and repeating myself, and self-filtered, which I tend to do when I’m intimidated by someone and become critical of myself. My mind blank, I became awkward and stilted.

After about an hour, he started checking his watch. I ignored it when he did it once. Then he did it again. And again. Quick glances down. I faltered, mid-sentence, trailing off before catching myself.

And then he let out a wide-mouthed yawn. He yawned so hard his eyes teared up.

That’s when I knew it wasn’t going to work out.

After checking his watch a couple more times, he asked me what I was up to on Sunday, using that as a segue to explain he had an early morning call and emails he needed to catch up on, so should we head out? I quickly agreed.

As we walked out, with him still attempting to make polite conversation and me retreating into my jaded slump, I felt disappointment sink in. Where did I go wrong? We had so much in common! He seemed so interested in the beginning!

I asked myself if, deep down, we were really getting along that well. It was a decent date, but that was it. Nothing more, nothing less. He checked off all my “good and paper” boxes, but our date was lacking a sort of ease and comfort that I’ve forced myself to start looking for so as not to fall into an unrequited like with guys like W.

During the short walk back to my apartment, the disappointment slowly melted away. I ordered some pie and ate it while watching Sex and the City. Oh well. Onto the next.

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