Kiki looks into dating… that’s it just trying to date

Dating as a broken person is daunting. Not only are the dates often ridiculous, but I have less patience than I used to. I’m tired in a way that doesn’t show on dating profiles, and that exhaustion makes everything feel like tiny paper cuts on my soul: painful for such innocuous marks.

Recently, I went on a date with a man who turned out to have very, very different views from mine, though none of that came out until we were already face to face.

Don’s profile wasn’t sketchy. There were no obvious red flags or clues suggesting he’d turn out to be an absolute a-hole. Did he have of a “bro” vibe, sure, but was he also from the East Coast, yes- which is why this didn’t quite line up. When we messaged on the app, things flowed easily enough that we exchanged numbers quickly and texted as if we had been good friends for a while and still nothing alarming came up.

There was one small thing we didn’t agree on, musical artists, but it seemed harmless at the time. Just one of those hmmmm differences I file away and move on from. I didn’t know then that it would end up meaning more.

The day of the date, we met for ice cream and decided to walk around the cute downtown area nearby. It should’ve been easy. Casual. Like I said above two old friends catching up seeing if there might be more. Instead, he decided this was the perfect moment to unload all of his strange relationship proclivities. I told him it was too early for that kind of conversation, but he kept pushing. Each comment edged a little closer to subjects I’d asked to be avoided, until I finally had to change the subject altogether.

At the time, I wondered if I was just annoyed at being out with someone new, someone who wasn’t my ex. This was one of my first dates since the “breakup,” for lack of a better word. Was this actually weird behavior, or , was I just projecting my sadness? It was hard to tell.

But as he kept talking and then started mocking me I realized I wasn’t wrong at all. It was in fact intentional, inappropriate border line vile behavior. He was openly supportive of current policies supporting everything I abhor and he wouldn’t let it go. He just kept pushing. At one point we tipped into the vile and very much engaged in a an actual shouting match about language and current events and yes musical artists.

I think my anger and the urge to absolutely demolish a man with all the rage I’d bottled up during my relationship kept me rooted there, shouting back. The fact that we didn’t physically tussle was honestly surprising. But the moment I realized I was on the verge of a fist fight with a grown man, I snapped back to reality: I have a pace maker now and can’t be swinging but there was a time.

I shoved my chair back and stormed off. It would be another month before I went on another date.

Kiki looks into intermittent fasting

I intermittent fasted on a date once (not on purpose or anything), but because my date had “made it clear,” apparently, that we were only having drinks.

I matched with Hugh, and we exchanged sporadic messages in the app. I didn’t think it would lead anywhere and was preparing to move on. However, almost at the exact moment I was getting ready to delete the match, as though he had somehow caught wind of this ship-jumping, he asked me out and even planned the day and time. He also did a great job checking in leading up to the date to make sure we were still on. This may seem like an innocuous detail, but anyone dating now will tell you: if they don’t check in, at least day of, that date is not happening. That small gesture buoyed my hopes things would go well.

I arrived before him at a bustling restaurant, where a crowd hovered near the host stand waiting to be seated. I slipped into the bar section and noticed a couple gathering their things. I slid in after them, but the bartender shut it down immediately: that section was closing, he said. Then, as if on cue, another couple offered up their seats and with a menu still on the table! I scanned through the hefty pages until Hugh finally arrived. The restaurant was still churning, so the plates from the previous diners remained untouched. After deciding on my meal, I handed the menu to my date thinking we would at least get a snack. It was in that moment that he looked me straight in the eyes and said, very distinctly, “I thought I made it clear we were only meeting for drinks.”

That was in that instant I decided I would be leaving as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, the Fates had other plans for me. When the server eventually came by to clear the plates, he offered us a bread basket. My date again declined, though he did order himself a drink. I stuck with water, already plotting my escape.

Because of the rush of customers, our drinks took forever to arrive. So there I sat, listening to a man’s life story with not even a crumb of bread to distract me from what had become my loud, growling stomach.

When the drinks finally appeared, Hugh sipped slowly and kept talking. I committed fully to what had now clearly become a water fast. At some point he paused, but I barely noticed. I was too busy watching plates pass by salivating at other people’s meals. When he finally asked me a few questions, I answered halfheartedly, my attention completely hijacked by the cakes circling through the room.

Once the drinks were gone, I ended the date, not because of anything he said, but because I was starting to worry I’d lose consciousness trying to make it to my car. Drive through after a bust of a date just hits different.

Kiki looks into dating while ethnically ambiguous

I am Greek, but my dating profile is cleared of any background, I figure they’ll learn soon enough any way; yet, somehow, within just a few messages, many men feel compelled to interrogate me about where I am “originally from,” what my “ethnicity” is, where my family is from, or, in one particularly surreal variation, “what skin tone is that.”

At times, the assumptions are almost comical. During one especially awkward text exchange, a man concluded that my clumsy typing meant I must be a second-language learner and generously offered to switch to my “native language.” To be fair, I was travel-swiping in New York, jet-lagged and typing faster than I was thinking.

Other interactions are far less amusing. One man opened the conversation by offering to meet me at the airport gate to travel “back to my home country.” That was his first message. The. First. Message. Nothing on my profile suggested I wasn’t Californian, yet he had already decided I didn’t belong. He either appointed himself my travel buddy or something a little more nefarious. I didn’t stick around to find out which.

What’s striking is that this behavior isn’t limited to dating apps. In person, strangers also feel entitled to speculate, confidently cycling through different ethnicities as though they’re guessing answers on a game show. The casual way people, usual those with no ethnicity assign identities to others is unsettling; especially when there’s no context, invitation, or relevance.

Over time, I’ve had to get creative with my responses. Once, a man decided that my hair texture alone revealed my background and used that assumption as his opening line. The conversation quickly turned into an impromptu lesson on basic genetics, complete with Mendel’s pea chart, material I assumed we had all encountered by ninth-grade biology, if not earlier.

These moments pile up. Individually, they may seem small, awkward, or even absurd. But they form a pattern: the quiet insistence that someone must explain themselves, justify their presence, or belong somewhere else. And that insistence often arrives unprompted, wrapped in curiosity, humor, or “just asking,” but it’s rarely as innocent as it seems.

Kiki looks into finding herself

We could have just stayed strangers, when one door closes another opens, I was given a box of darkness.. and other platitudes, cliches, and quotes are applicable here. I have read a lot of them trying to get my brain to make sense of all of this

I fell in love with someone who wouldn’t have cared if I ran headfirst into a brick wall. I knew, logically, that I needed to detach. Emotionally? That was another story entirely. When I finally walked away, because it was me not him who let go I did it crying, kicking, and screaming like a full-blown toddler. And it wasn’t because I stopped loving him I knew though he’d never love me or be loyal.

For a long time, I left my heart with someone who never protected it. And honestly, that was an expensive mistake, especially considering I’d just had open-heart surgery. New valves, a repaired heart… and somehow he got mine for free. The audacity; but I digress.

I thought that would be the thing that destroyed me: the leaving, the phone never showing his number again, the silence between us; but it didn’t. Piece by piece, Im finding myself again and I have the ridiculous dates to prove it.

Kiki looks into trying again

Two years ago I stopped writing. Not because I met someone and had my happily ever after, quite the opposite actually. Even as I sit here and try to find the words for this on and off relationshit, I am not entirely sure I am ready to write again let alone enter the dating world. Given the last few attempts I’ve had: including actively trying not to cry because they are not Ryan, feeling like I am somehow cheating even though we haven’t spoken or seen each other in months, and one particularly eventful date where I almost fought a grown man (but for other reasons) I am not sure the dating world is ready for me to enter it either. So I think this blog may become a mix of ‘healing journey’ testimony and the dates along the way. It definitely can no longer have a Narnia theme. Narnia ended joyfully for the children and the land. I cannot currently even fathom everything working out in the end; so this may just become a stream of consciousness catharsis where I work myself back to a semblance of myself before we met.

Kiki looks into unexpected heartbreak

You let somebody in, you know? And then, you make room. Then they go. And yeah, the room’s still there. ~ Sam Sylvia

When Mr. Tumnus the faun saw Lucy for the first time and learned what she was, he made up his mind to kidnap her and bring her to the witch. After getting to know her though he let her escape rather than fall victim to the majesty’s wrath (telling Lucy outright of his previous plan and then helping her to safety). In many ways, I wish people in the dating world were like that: just brutally honest about their intentions so, like Lucy, we could escape with all pieces of ourselves and faith intact. But if that were the case this blog would not exist.

Like Lucy meeting a talking faun, meeting Ryan jarred me. He made me nervous from the beginning. He was open and vulnerable, something most people in LA avoided. He talked about a variety of subjects and was so articulate about them, his experiences within them, and their connection to the collective that any time I spoke I felt like I was that man I went on a date with that talked for an hour plus about his intermittent fasting- just nonsensical.

Despite my nervousness and own feelings of being off kilter anytime I was around him, Ryan still seemed to want to see me and more importantly talk with me. We made plan after plan to see each other. The anxiousness was always there, but so was reassurance that I was not, in fact, as ridiculous I believed. And like I do when I am interested in someone I make room for them, blindly believing in their goodness. Like Lucy trusting a talking faun with no rhyme or reason, I trusted Ryan.

The whole of the story of Narnia took place over a longer period of time than our dating did, and regardless of the small window , I still managed to get my heart chipped. I won’t know if my ridiculousness, my overthinking, or the tangible fact that I could never quite be all of myself is what did it; but, what I do know is that I made a space for someone and that space remained after they left.

Kiki looks into dating scrubs

Dating in LA can be a long distance relationship, depending on what part of the city each person lives in. When the kids moved from the closet in England to Narnia, although it wasn’t more than a few steps in, they ended up traveling very far from home. It is similar in LA. People can live one city over and, depending on traffic, that could be a thirty plus minute commute. When one person lives in a beach city, and the other one lives across town in a whole other beach city it can become even more complicated getting together because there is no accounting for traffic on the 405 at any time of day or night.

And although it was not a day’s journey, as Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy found out when they walked through Narnia trying to get to the stone slab, it can be a trek when trying to meet up with people all over the southland- in particular when one does not have a car. With that being said, although a car is not necessary, if one plans on dating anywhere outside of a 5 mile radius from where they live and are not willing to Uber because of the price, they should definitely set their dating preference to no more than a few miles to keep the tab and their walking shoes within a reasonable range.

I once had a man meet me at a very popular tourist destination ( the half way point between our two homes) on one of those green Birdy scooters. Mine was a 45 minute commute by car- I can not imagine what his was. To be fair, he arrived punctually- not even mentioning his mode of transportation until well into the date -which is more than can be said for others- I’m looking at you sir who casually walked us by your Porsche and pretended you didn’t know the make of your own car. But I digress.

More recently I have had a couple of people who tried to get me to come to their city or even their home, because as it turns out, they don’t drive. One of them had a car just did not feel comfortable driving in traffic; but, did not seem to have any problem with me navigating through it since he invited me to his home for date one. I wasn’t on tour so skipped that one. A short time later I matched with a man named Bob. He seemed pretty anxious to meet but when we texted through the app and then exchanged numbers he didn’t call for a few days. When he finally did he said that he was looking forward to us getting together more to the point he actually said, “I’m very excited for you to come to my city.” We hadn’t discussed location, time, or day and he knew very well I’ve spent most of my adult life in LA so it’s not as though he was going to give me a tour of somewhere I didn’t know. It confused me that he had already decided where we were going without asking. When I suggested places halfway between our two cities, he just kept moving the date back closer to his original city. At that point I knew something was up but decided to hold off on calling anything out.

On the day of I was running behind and so almost 2 hours before the date I texted and let him know that was the case. He did not respond to that, but instead tried to video chat me through other apps, and then only answered my text at an hour before said meeting time. When I was out the door, I communicated the time that I was going to get there and proceeded to drive to the location. He finally texted as I was pulling into the place to let me know that he was trying to arrange a ride and was going to be late. It was at that point that I confirmed my suspicions about why he had tried to keep the date so close to a particular city. He had no actual car. This though did not stop him from trying to date in cities 20 plus miles outside his home. He even tried to suggest I may have been to blame for his tardiness since the later time I had suggested had thrown him off, even though he had two hours to prepare for it. He went on to say he didn’t know where we were meeting so didnt want to leave until that was certain. This was new information for me since we had agreed to a place- more pointedly a place he suggested. At that juncture, I backed right up from the spot I parked in and unlike the newly crowned kings and queens of Narnia, made my way home deflated rather than elated.

Kiki looks into dating internationally- locally

Although I have been bamboozled a few times by my own people I keep trying to date them, similar to how Edmund knows deep down the queen is bad but just convinces himself she may not be so keeps going back to find her. I am just going to take a minute and revisit going out with my own people which happened not too far in the past.

I had a very interesting date with a man who claimed to also be Greek. Nick was not very communicative by text when we matched and I did call him out on it- nothing changed, so I guess he had the Greek stubbornness down pat. Regardless, we set up a date locally, and we haltingly continued to talk about our common interest- being Greek.

The day of the date I showed up to the restaurant after he did- I was not late, but he had actually gotten there a little early and had the waitress seat him- very unGreek of him. When I asked him where he was sitting instead of telling me where he instructed me to ask the waitress to take me back to him like he was a king of some kind. He did not even offer to come out and meet me at the front of the restaurant. I let the hostess know my party was seated and proceeded to wander the establishment looking for a person I was supposed to recognize from some vague pictures. I knew it was gonna be bad.

When I finally did locate him he stood up and hugged me. It was a very awkward side hug then he sat himself right down, looked me square in the my eyes and with a straight face said, “You are so lucky to be here with me.” That sounded very Greek, but that’s where the commonality ended and it was downhill from there. I could not keep my mouth shut so responded with: “Why would you have that thought and then say it out loud?” He made a wide sweep with his arms seemingly pointing out the restaurant but remained silent expecting me to know what he meant. I just continued to stare at him at which time he filled the silence by telling me he “knew the manager and his friend was part owner” As a note a.) we were not in LA for this to happen and b.) that’s not a personality trait for me to value.

This exchange was quickly interrupted when the waitress brought us each a glass of champagne- he had “taken the liberty of ordering me a drink” but had never asked if I even drank – I don’t. He was upset to find this out. Before he could say anything else, we were brought some kind of amuse bouche. When I asked what it was or what he ordered, instead of telling me he really doubled down on me being lucky to be there with him and replied that: “it was specially made for us.” “From the kitchen,” he continued. I expressed concern as to where our other food orders would be made from but he didn’t get my joke.

Conversation from there on was fairly stilted. We did not see eye to eye on any subject, and as it turned out, he had just broken up with somebody a few days previous. When I said that it was surprising he was dating so soon after he’d broken up with somebody, he did not see why it was “my business as to his dating timeline. ” Then when I was asking him seemingly normal first date questions, i.e. what brought him to California from his home state he stated that-”it was a traumatic event” and I “shouldn’t be asking those types of questions.” To which I spit out, “please learn to lie because that’s a normal question to ask on a date.” It was a very quiet dinner after that.

I guess dating Greek or part Greeks is not in the cards for me. As Edmund and I learned, one should always trust their instincts even in the face of food and drinks.

Kiki looks into the positive side of dating

Dating is a winter wasteland, because even on the best of days things rarely work out. Although I always talk about the terrible dates, even the most pleasant dates rarely move forward. Because, like the deep magic of Narnia, things always seem to work out for the witch rather than the sons of Adam and daughters of Eve.

I once matched with a lovely human named Kent. He was always so positive on the phone and in messages. Not in a fake way or a way that was annoying as some cheerily people tend to be but in an endearing way. Like Aslan,who always kept calm in the worst of situations, so Kent kept cheerful.

Our date was at LA Live on a Friday night. This was no small feat especially without a reservation. But despite the long waits and crowds he was so positive and calming. Nothing fazed him. We walked around as we waited for the beeping of our restaurant tracker and he was just amazed by everything. Like Alec Baldwin’s character in ‘Friends,’ he complimented the most arbitrary of things. “Just look at all these brake lights glowing like the light of a thousand ferries. *” And on and on just over the top enthusiasm about the crowds, the restaurants, all the mundane things we passed were somehow fascinating to him. Although Baldwin’s character was grating after a while, Kent was less so and I think it was because it just seemed so natural for him to be amazed by everything. Our conversation was just as fascinating to him. He spoke in glowing terms about life, his job, and anytime I had something to say it was a two minute praise session about what I had said. It was like having my own hype person. Despite what could have been a miserable experience it was refreshing to watch someone be so open and energized. I don’t know if that says something about me or dating in general.

In the end we had a wonderful time and his upbeat attitude only added to that. Even though there was no spark it was nice to go on a date that was successful overall and did not end in a more positive Uber ride than the date itself. However, because of the type of blog this is – we know this story does not end with me in a partnership. The next day I received the kindest ‘this isn’t going anywhere, let’s not see each other again’ text I have ever read. And have yet to get anything nicer since.

*The One in Massapequa

Kiki looks into humor

Everyone has an origin story, and before I knew that the dating world was a Narnian winter wasteland with witches, betrayal, and a lot of ice I had my very first tinder match a long, long time ago. I matched with a man we will call Joe. Because I was so new, we texted quite a bit on the app before exchanging numbers. He seemed to be very funny in text- that’s what got me. Then after a while, I gave him my number and the humor continued across the phone. It wasn’t until after we met that I realized he wasn’t funny at all, he was just not very bright. What I had interpreted as humor in text was just him having a conversation. It was almost the Key and Peele skit about the text conversation.*

At the time I knew none of this though and believed I was going on a date with a human who had a good sense of humor. After numerous exchanges we made plans to meet at a bar. When I got there, he looked exactly like his photos (at the time I didnt know about catfishing more on that in the future) and the date seemed to be going well except unlike his text, he was not chatty.. at all. I carried most of the conversation. I started wondering if I had been Cyrano’d through text. But the exact moment I realized that his humor was, in fact, him being serious, was the following exchange: We had been discussing his job and somehow Chelsea Handler came up – I can not remember the details now- I love her so I said to him: “I love her standup. She is so funny. ” And he replies deadpan: “No she doesn’t stand up. She sits behind that desk.” At first I thought- ohh finally there you are Joe, there is that jokester. I paused and looked at him and he looked at me with no trace of sarcasm. So I said again: “Yes, on her show but I also love her stand up. And he kept looking at me, confusion just deepening. He responds again “ No, she is the one that sits behind the desk. Maybe we are talking about two different people. She is the one that sits behind the desk and says the news and the jokes. She doesn’t stand up.” We went back and forth a couple of times I laughingly, but he was not breaking and left little room to argue and at that point I realized I had met a very literal person.

I figured at that point it could not get any worse so chose to move on. He had his hands on the bar and I noticed that there was a scar on one so I asked him where he got that from and he answered, “oh my wife and I got into a fight a long time ago.” I said “oh that is bad. Do you mean your ex-wife?” He responds with: “Well we’re separated, not divorced though.” At that point, I realized I had not asked enough questions about whether or not he was single. I had just assumed it because he was on a dating app so I proceeded to ask him questions: I said: “Oh, so you are getting a divorce? He answered in the affirmative, but added that they still lived in the same home. My reply: “ That must be difficult – so you live in different rooms?” (I felt the need to ask obvious questions based on the above interactions.) He said “No we’re in the same room.” Excuse me, sir ? He ended with “Yes, we share the bed. I have one side and she has the other.” At that point it was time to make my exit and I was grateful I had only ordered soda water.

Sir, you are not single, you are not separated, you are still in a whole ass marriage. I was single on a dating app and his stupid self was both married and dating. Why I continued to try and find love on the internet after that first encounter is a mystery.

* Key and Peele