Everything Happens for a Reason

I was all set to break the bad news to Marny. I picked her up after work Wednesday and took her to dinner at Birds in Los Feliz.

Couple of things about that. First of all, I always think of a date as including dinner, but Marny seemed especially surprised and psyched to be going out to eat. I think maybe she doesn’t eat out that much or that the guys she dates limit her to the Super Value Menu. Whatever the reason, she was very appreciative of my old-fashioned ways. Second, Birds is really far away. I hope my next girlfriend lives closer to me.

Anyway, like I said, I was going to break it off after dinner. I was going to say something about how we don’t have anything in common. How I don’t want to lead her on. But during dinner, she said something that made me actually start to like her.

I was talking about how weird it was that we met through a guy I met at the mall and she said, “Yeah, well, everything happens for a reason.”

If you haven’t been following from the beginning, this is exactly what my old girlfriend Amanda used to say and it always bugged the shit out of me. But just as I was about to launch into a tirade, Marny laughed and said, “God, I hate people who say that.” Then she went off on stupid “spiritual” people who believe in mystical forces like fate and destiny. She summed it up by saying, “I guess everything does happen for a reason, if you include random chance as a reason!”

And suddenly, I liked her.

I guess I should have given her a chance. Not everyone makes a great first impression. Sometimes it takes some searching to find something likable in a person. The old me cut her off too quickly. I made up my mind without getting all the evidence. But the new me likes people. And now I like Marny.

So there you have it. Marny and I are officially dating.

My Date with Party Girl

Friday night was weird. I picked Marny up in Hollywood and then drove all the way back to Brentwood for dinner. I should have just said meet me at the restaurant and saved myself 90 minutes but I was trying to make this a real date, and call me old fashioned but I think that includes pick-up service.

Marny looked great. She really is an attractive girl. She’s a little younger than me, 24 I think she said, and she has long, straight, blonde hair. Plus, she’s pretty tall. I’m only 5’9″ and she was almost as tall as me. And she’s very thin. I guess you have to be if you want to make it as an actress.

Anyway, we talked in the car about her typical day. She works as a receptionist for a producer and he lets her go on auditions whenever she wants. She had one audition on Thursday for a new sitcom that she thinks went well.

At dinner, she was talking about all the plays she’s done and her scene studies or something. I noticed the menu had been poorly formatted where the prices didn’t line up. Usually this is because someone used the space bar to line it up manually instead of the tab key and I tried a gambit of telling the waiter.

“Any questions about the menu?”

“Yes, I have a question. Did you ever notice that the prices don’t line up?”

I explained my theory about the space bar and the waiter seemed to be very sympathetic. He said he does freelance graphic design and he’d never make that mistake. But no one ever noticed it before and I wondered whether a graphic designer really could have missed something as obvious as that.

Anyway, I thought it was funny, the waiter did, too, but Marny just stared at me like I was crazy. Like, I was Rain Man or something.

The rest of the night I just focused on listening to Marny talk incessantly about acting. I asked other questions, like where she grew up and stuff, but it always came back to acting. I don’t want to sound like an elitist dick here, but “intellectually curious” would not be how you would describe Marny.

I took her to a jazz club after dinner. (Again, I wanted this to be a real date and I planned something special.) The weird thing was that I was glad not to have to listen to her anymore, but at one point, she held my hand and rested her head on my shoulder.

That kind of freaked me out. Again, it’s weird because we already had sex. But the intimacy of her holding my hand felt so… premature. I was really uncomfortable.

The other weird thing is that I thought the date was kind of blah. She had made a pretty mediocre impression on me. We didn’t really connect. She didn’t like my musings on tabs vs. spaces and I knew right then and there that we’d never have a future together. I didn’t want her to be my girlfriend. I didn’t even want to go out with her again.

But outside the jazz club, she kissed me. We made out for a while. And then I took her back to my place and we, you know.

So Saturday, I felt like shit. I think she really likes me. Probably because I’m such a good fucking listener now. But I can’t keep leading her on. It’s not right. I’m not 22 and capable of meaningless relationships anymore. Maybe this is what growing up is all about. I want more. I don’t want to just hook up. I want someone where there’s an end game. I feel like I’m one of those women from a bad romantic comedy. But it’s true, I want someone who I look forward to spending time with.

Still, there’s something intoxicating about having someone be more into you than you are her. And a totally hot girl, too. Intoxicating is definitely the right word. It feels like the beginning stages of addiction. (Educated guess only.) I know I need to end it before it goes too far.

Oh, and by the way, we already made plans for a third date for Wednesday.