a scare & a lovers’ quarrel

Here’s how it began:

WEDNESDAY 4 JUNE

WordPress lists all the phrases people googled that land them at my blog.

Often, one of those phrases is that most cruelly ambiguous of date-goodbyes, “I’ll call you”, or its brother-phrase “I’ll be in touch,” about which I have a post. A lot of people – mostly women, I bet – seem to feel a need to understand what has been said to them when they hear those words.

On a whim, I reread that post, and then, realizing the date that inspired it had taken place just about a year ago, I was curious to see what else was happening in my dating life a year ago. So I read a few posts from that time, and then I began to get curious about men I’d dated then. What were they doing now? Was Man 1, whom I had thought a perpetual dater, at best ‘good fling material,’ still online? And Man 2? And any of the others?

I went to jdate and noted that now you can log on with a fake name and email address and get access to all the profiles, though not to the site’s email system. So I logged on and began looking through the men in various zipcodes to see who was still around.

On a whim, I went to ‘Search for member’ and typed in Plan C’s profile name.

* * *

HIS PROFILE WAS UP.

* * *

When I saw that familiar face and that profile I knew almost by heart, my heart started beating so hard I thought it would come out of my chest.

I thought my heart was going to hit the wall behind my computer, it was beating so hard.

* * *
I saw he had logged on ‘3 days ago’.

You may remember that one of the most wonderful things about him, at the start of our romance, was that he took his profile down only two days after our first date, before I took mine down.

* * *
I did a search for him by zip code and age and did not get his profile. It was only visible if you looked him up under ‘Search for member’ – you had to know his profile name already.

* * *
I had been planning not to phone him that night – I fact, I try to let him phone me most of the time, unless there’s some compelling reason for me to call him – but I knew I wouldn’t have a moment’s peace – actually, I’d have non-stop anxiety – unless I found out what the story was here.

* * *

When I phoned, one of his sons was having dinner with him. He said he would call me back.

* * *

After I hung up, I realized I couldn’t wait and absolutely had to talk to him immediately. So I called back, and we spoke briefly.

Plan C was thoroughly irritated by what I called about.

He said he had just rejoined to see what had become of the women he’d met through jdate, whether they were still on the site or had left it; in short, he had rejoined to find out precisely what I had logged-on to find out.

I made it entirely clear, from the start, that I had been on the site for the same reason; that every once in a while I check out jdate and match.com to see which of the oldies are still there; but I don’t rejoin. I just do a brief scan. I don’t put my old profile up.

MIMI: But why did you join? Why did you put your profile up?

PLAN C: I thought you had to.

MIMI: But you don’t. You can just check them out free.

PLAN C: You know I don’t know anything about the web. I can’t do tech stuff the way you can.

MIMI: But you did that in the past. You managed to join and leave and rejoin without any problem.

PLAN C: I don’t know how I did it.

MIMI: Suppose you had seen my profile up: wouldn’t you be upset?

PLAN C: I’d be curious….

MIMI: But wouldn’t it upset you to see it there??

PLAN C: I’d just wonder why you had done it.

MIMI: I bet you’d be upset.

* * *
But his son was still there, so he said he’d call me back.

* * *
I did a few loads of laundry but was so upset I could barely do anything more demanding than that till he called back.

* * *
When he phoned, about an hour later, we had a dreadful two-hour conversation, a conversation that went in circles.

In late-night phone conversations, Plan C tends to get irritated easily, and to go from irritation to anger easily. And his mind becomes like a sieve – or like a rock. He can’t absorb anything. I can make the same to-me-entirely-clear point over and over, and he doesn’t get it.

I couldn’t define how my casual perusal of men on jdate and match.com without joining was different from his rejoining jdate so he could do the same, except that his profile was visible — to those who knew to look for it.

But I realized that all I wanted, now, was comfort from him. I could still feel in my chest the way my heart had been beating, and I just wanted him to speak comforting and reassuring words.

* * *

Plan C was unable to understand the difference between two matters that to me were so clearly distinct I didn’t see how they could be confused: 1) distress that he had rejoined jdate and put his profile up, and 2) a need for comfort and reassurance.

Faced with his continuing – and escalating – anger, I kept explaining that I wasn’t, at this point, being accusatory; that I had done the same thing myself; that I acknowledged that he had kept his profile hidden and understood that he was not looking for dates; but that, having been intensely upset, I just need to hear soothing words from him.

Plan C kept understanding that request as an accusation. You thought I was cheating on you, he said angrily.

Over and over, I insisted that I now understood he wasn’t, but I just wanted to hear him say something loving.

Over and over, he said that he had already explained the issue many times, and didn’t I believe him? Didn’t I understand him?

* * *
I didn’t see how anyone could fail to understand the difference between 1) and 2) above. Were his powers of cognition so poor that he really thought those two things were the same?

I told him his brain turned to a sieve after 8 pm.

I thought that was mildly amusing, but strangely enough, he didn’t.

* * *
Our conversation ended in a way that was minimally satisfactory to both of us. I can’t remember exactly how.

The moral, I told myself, was this: don’t ask anything complicated of Plan C in a phone call after 7:55 p.m.

We very rarely fight in person. This Tuesday, 10 June, will be the four-month anniversary of our first date, and in that time we’ve had very few fights – except in late-night phone calls.

THURSDAY 5 JUNE

The next morning at 10:30, in the midst of listening to Brian Lehrer and his guests rehash the HRC/BO primaries, I was putting away the clean laundry. Plan C had just finished playing 18 holes and called me from the clubhouse.
*******

PLAN C: (hearing male voice in background) Is somebody there with you?

MIMI: Brian Lehrer.

PLAN C [baffled; he hasn’t lived in New York City since the 1970s]: Who?

MIMI: I’m listening to the radio while I put the laundry away. They’re talking about the primaries.

PLAN C: Oh. [pause] [then] I just called to say I love you.

* * *
I was very glad he called to say that and I told him so.

He’s so clearly a morning person.

* * *

Then later that day, I got upset again.

I suddenly remembered that in our first conversation ever, on Wednesday 6 February, around 8:30 p.m., he had told me that he had been off jdate for a couple of months, had been scanning the profiles and seen mine, and had rejoined just because of me, so he could email me.

So he knew perfectly well that you could see who’s there without joining up!

That’s what he had done, or said he had done, in February.

Was he lying to me???

* * *
I got very upset again and was unable to do anything at all till I called him – in the evening, knowing full well it was not a thinking-clearly time for Plan C.

* * *
He was very irritated.

I thought we settled that already, he said.

I explained the cause of my renewed anxiety, hoping he would give a persuasive explanation.

Again, he said simply that he thought he had to join in order to see the women’s profiles.

I reminded him again of what he had told me when we spoke in February.

* * *

The exchange above was repeated at least ten times.

* * *
I kept saying, I’ve just told you that 10 times!
* * *
At length, he said he thought that jdate only allowed you limited viewing if you weren’t a member. You could look at one profile, but then a screen came up requiring you to join if you wanted to see more.

* * *
That had the ring of truth to me. I thought I remembered that, too, and realized that the new system, in which you can log on with a false name and see whatever you want, though you can’t email, had not been in place then.

Why didn’t you say that earlier?? I asked.

* * *
Plan C was angry and flustered and had no coherent answer. He didn’t know why he hadn’t said it earlier. And he didn’t know why he put his profile up, except that he had kept it ‘hidden’ because he didn’t want people to find it. He just wanted to be able to look.

* * *
That made sense, and I accepted that. But I wanted, once again, his help in calming down and reassuring me, and he couldn’t manage it.

Be reassured! he said in an irritated tone.

* * *
It took a while for my distress to die down. He couldn’t manage a loving tone, but he got minimally less angry, and we both wanted to end the call. I could see that it wasn’t going to go anywhere any better, and I thought, if there’s any more to be said, we can say it tomorrow.

At least I was convinced that he wasn’t lying; he was just not up-to-snuff on the web.

(And it’s true that he’s not the slightest bit tech-savvy; he can barely work a remote control. New Yorkers reading this may know that for certain parts of Manhattan and the Bronx Saturday, cable service was disrupted just at the moment the Belmont Stakes was about to be run. Plan C and I had been changing from the DVD player to the television at that time, and we both thought he had caused the problem….!! The service went back on later, but then we couldn’t get the sound. After 30 minutes of hopeless and confusing conversations with various techies at Time Warner, while I was cooking dinner, Plan C was finally able to get the sound up and running again. The conversations would have been hilarious if they hadn’t been so frustrating.)

FRIDAY 6 JUNE

Plan C was helping one of his sons move furniture (a chore to be spread out over two days). I didn’t see him, as I usually do on Friday. I think we talked on the phone, but I can’t remember anything about our conversation.

SATURDAY 7 JUNE

Plan C arrived arrived a little after 5 p.m. Still somewhat upset from Wednesday and Thursday, and having missed him Friday and most of Saturday, I was a bit down at first, but then we had a good (homemade) dinner together and practiced our dancing.

Let me correct: I practiced my dancing.

Plan C is a terrific dancer: idiosyncratic (his salsa is really a ‘travelling meringue,’ my swingdance teacher said; or was it that his meringue was really a ‘travelling salsa’?) but very graceful. My mother, seeing him dance a few steps once, called him ‘light-footed.’ He makes it up as he goes along, but he always looks good.

So good, in fact, that he can do a hilarious imitation of the way frat boys in the early 60s danced to ‘Wooly Bully,’ the way their dates danced, and the way a very sexy date of his once danced to ‘Twist and Shout’ – so sexily, it seems, that people were shocked. (Plan C liked it, of course.)

* * *

Having taken about 18 months, more or less, of swing, and having danced a bit with various men over the past six months, I finally figured out what it takes for me to be an okay dancer.

It takes about 45 minutes of dancing.

Then I loosen up and can do all right, even – depending on the music – be a bit inventive like Plan C.

But I really need to like the music a lot. My all-time favorite to dance to is the original Temptations ‘My Girl,’ a favorite since this past January. But I also had fun dancing to ‘I’m So Excited’ (the Pointer Sisters), ‘I’m Walkin’‘ (Fats Domino), and ‘Come On, Let’s Go’ (Ritchie Valens).

* * *
So after an hour and then another hour and then more dancing, I was doing very well.

* * *
We needed to ‘practice,’ or rather I did, because we’re going to two weddings in the coming months, and I wanted to make sure I could manage all right dancing in public with Plan C (haven’t done that yet).

Of course, what young couple is going to have Motown playing at their wedding in the summer of 2008??

Seems unlikely. But I have to practice to music I like and have available.

* * *
Very late, the quarrel started up again.

We were sitting on the sofa, too exhausted from dancing for 2.5 hours to get our asses upstairs.

Just a tad sweaty after all that aerobic exercise, and eager to take a shower before bed, I asked Plan C if he was going to take a shower.

He said no, quite emphatically; he’d already taken one that day, and he’d take another tomorrow.

I was surprised that a person who had been sweaty at least twice that day (he had arrived sweating from the heat) wouldn’t be as eager to shower as I was.

Don’t you like showers? I asked.

That got him angry.

For some reason, he was seriously irritated at the question.

* * *

There had been no malice behind my question. I enjoy showers, think of them (most of the time) as a pleasure, especially in hot weather. I like the idea of going to bed clean and refreshed and smelling of lavender (one my few concessions to Rachel Greenwald’s advice to use lavender soap because men like the smell; they do, so I use it). My question was inspired by surprise and curiosity. It had also crossed my mind that maybe the bathroom Plan C uses in my apartment was inadequate in the shower department, and that he would explain what was wrong with it.

* * *

There followed a longish tedious argument about whether my question about showers had been insulting. That argument led to a slight rehash of the previous day’s argument, and I was finally able to explain to Plan C, in person, that what upset me, really, was less his rejoining jdate than his failure to understand why I needed soothing and reassurance.

Finally (I’m skipping about 20 minutes and some embarrassing moments here) he appeared to understand, and we hugged. Actually we had to make up twice and hug twice.

* * *
In retrospect, I think he was so prickly because he was exhausted from 24 hours of moving furniture, travelling to Manhattan in the heat, and then dancing for a couple of hours (and oh yes, possibly those two dreadful phone calls were still a vivid memory).

* * *

I showered; Plan C didn’t.

When I got into bed he was almost asleep and asked me not to talk to him because he was almost asleep, and if I talked, he mumbled, he would wake up and not be able to sleep.

So I didn’t.

* * *
SUNDAY 8 JUNE

Around 6:45 a.m. or so we were both wide awake and sex was imminent….

Plan C – now rested, and anticipating sex – said (to my complete surprise), I’m sorry if I was mean or unkind. I can be very obstinate sometimes. You’re very sweet and I don’t want to make you unhappy.

Obstinate – yes, the perfect word for him sometimes! I thought – but didn’t say. I can’t remember what I did say, or if I said anything, but he knew I was happy to hear his words.

* * *

7 a.m. – 10 a.m.
!*?#@$!!!!!!***??+*&!&!&!!!

* * *
After breakfast we talked about the trip we’re taking together in a few weeks – the luggage, the clothing we’ll need, who pays for what, etc. etc. All easily determined.

* * *

I felt very good that he had said what he had earlier that morning. He didn’t really need to, but because he had, I felt confirmed in my sense of his goodness and his devotion.

And of his circadian rhythms.

Plan C really is a morning person.

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