Adventures of Dating in the Twenty-First Century #thedatewasoverwhen #onlinedating #datingfail #horrorstories #coffeemeetsbagel #datingapps #yolo #dating #foreveralone #futurecatlady #losangeles #californialove
Exciting news! I'm happy to announce a beautiful new collaboration between this blog and the Coffee Meets Bagel blog! The powers that be at CMB stumbled upon SpilledCoffeeStaleBagels and, weirdly enough, found it humorous and asked me to write for their Date Stories section.
So, the next time you need a quick fix, I encourage you to check in here to see my posts! You may find some re-posts of what's been on this blog, and you might get some new bagel surprises. Nobody knows what this baker will bring to the table.
While this is not the end, I did want to thank all of my friends for their support in my posts. You guys kept me writing, kept me dating, and kept it fun, so that's really all I could have asked for! Keep checking in and spread the word! SpilledCoffeeStaleBagels is now going to be on a Noah's-Bagels-Type-Of-Scale!
I fondly remember the days when I was the youngest one in the bar. Those days when I went out with my friends Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and, oh yes, Sunday nights, then got back up on Monday without a scar. When did those days pass me by? Oh yeah, the minute I aged past 21 and realized I had to be at work the next morning and contribute to society's productivity.
While my age doesn't normally plague me, I've been getting a few young bagels lately that look at me with the eagerness and optimism that can only be described as the naivety of youth.
Let's start with Dancing Bagel. I met up with him on a whim a month ago and we grabbed some dinner. He was really sweet and seemed to be so excited by the world around him. I ended up mentioning that I like to dance and, as if I had told him that he just won a million dollars, his eyes lit up as he exclaimed, "Oh my gosh I love to dance also! We should totally go dancing together!" First: what straight single man announces his love of cardio pop dance on a first date and expects a second date? Second: what stranger invites another stranger to get sweaty with him in a public dance studio while shaking your booty to Britney Spears?
The rest of Dancing Bagel's date was pretty irrelevant and I left wondering where exactly I lost my exuberance for life (who am I kidding? I probably never had that exuberance). Since that fateful night, I receive weekend texts from Dancing Bagel asking me what I'm up to and telling me to notify him if my friends and I "wind up going dancing." After never having taken him up on any of his invitations, he escalated the offer to dance classes after work. I'm not sure if he thinks this would be a fun date activity or if he just needs a partner in his pas de deux.
I just got home from a date with Chef Bagel. Once again a year younger than I am, Chef Bagel piqued my interest with his proclaimed love of food and cooking. Many of our texts included his boasts of creating culinary delights - he even made his own pasta by hand (and no, he does not have a pasta maker - trust me: that was the first question I asked)! When we met, he asked me one quick question about work, then we immediately started to talk about food. He told me at least 30 meals he's made in the last few months and #humblebragged about how his friends always come over to his place to eat his cooking (or is that just a normal #brag?).
I can't in good faith say anything bad about Chef Bagel, but I ended up getting agitated that he only seemed so excited when he told me about how he prepared his lamb last night, more details about his pasta adventure, and the various other home cooking experiments he performs. Agitated and hungry. At the end of the night, we grabbed some #hipstercoffee (siphon coffee) and were quizzed by our barista about the flavors, acidity, and balance. I noted the flavors I tasted and how I felt about it and asked him what he tasted. To my amusement, I was met with a "I don't really have a good palate for distinguishing subtle flavors." Cue the face palm. You went on for a full two hours about your culinary expertise, then admittedly state that you do not have a good palate? That's like being blind and telling me that you are an amazing painter.
Oh Baby Bagels, you're really sweet, but I think it's time I change my age preferences to 30-50.
That awkward moment when you hit "Like" before you actually read the profile and realize that he put at least 4 references to Jesus in less than 30 words. This is what I get for being shallow. Sorry, Jesus Bagel. I don't think I'm holy enough for you.
My friend who knows my trust issues sent me this because she also knows my distaste of raisins in cookies for this very reason. Had to post it :) and it was posted by Jonathan Cheban, so...it's even better.
http://www.brobible.com/life/article/how-to-tell-not-into-you/ Feels Bagel keeps asking me out for last minute night-of dates. I need to send this to him.
This may be a slightly touchy subject because I know the jury is hung on this one, but I'd like to talk about my date with the Poppy Seed Bagel (Poppies > Opium > Super Asian...follow me here, ok?). Nothing against my fellow Asians, but I find that when they are too nationalistic, I get lost somewhere between the shameful looks I receive when I say, "I don't really speak Chinese that well" and the confusion I create when I say, "American" when I'm asked "what I am". I just didn't grow up that way and I don't relate.
Homeboy showed up 20 minutes late and strolled in like I should have been waiting for him. Come on, bro, at least apologize for your tardiness. The world does not revolve around your schedule.
I was telling him about my job when his eyes glazed over and started to really focus on my face. When I paused between sentences about the different types of clients I have, he interrupts me and says, "You're Cantonese, aren't you?" Wow man...focus. Also, you just got wayyy specific there.
Ten minutes later after he realized we both went to UCLA, he stops me and says, "Are you sure you went to UCLA? I know all of the Asians there and I would have remembered you for sure." I didn't know it was possible to know every single Asian in a public university that is approximately 35% Asian?
After I said that I was too busy working 2 jobs and finishing school to drink boba and socialize with the other Asians, he disclosed that he was a member of one of the most well-known Asian fraternities. Known not for their chivalry or collective academic/professional successes; this fraternity was more known for starting fights with guys who were much bigger and smarter than they were and for cornering young Asian girls at parties.
At this point, I had established that we had absolutely nothing in common (thank goodness) and that he was very unaccepting of the fact that I had not been "back to China" since I was 7 years old. So, I figured I might as well have some fun and joke around.
I asked if he frequented a K-town bar, renown only for its drunk Koreans. He pulled out his phone to show me a picture of 3 of his friends standing around a pool of puke. He pointed at the puke and said, "That's me on my birthday a couple months ago" with a proud smile on his face. Your mother must have hung that picture on the fridge at home.
I asked what he did for a living and he said that he was a full-time student, getting his masters in engineering. He follows it up by saying that he wants to be a full-time student forever, but feels left out when all of his friends are able to pay for drinks but he is not. Full-time employment does have its perks, I guess...
He was flabbergasted when I said that I get to work around 8:30 every day. He sleeps in until 11 AM every day. His life is an LMFAO song. Or more appropriately, a Far East Movement song.
Upon parting, he suggested we should get together some time to go Asian clubbing so I can "be around my people again." I'd much rather claw my eyes out than be surrounded at an Asian club by sweaty Asian boys that think it's okay to be rude and inappropriate just because they're drunk and assume everyone else is also.
While Poppy Seed Bagel had good intentions, there just wasn't any substance that we could relate on. I'm sure there is a small Asian girl out there who wants to make funny Asian faces with this guy while holding up some delicious-looking Asian food, but I'm not that girl. It's just not my jam.
Just the other night, I went on a date with the Whitest, most plain Bagel I've ever met. It's a miracle we were even connected. That, or he has Egg Bagel Fever (if you get what I mean).
He's from a small suburban town, which Wikipedia tells me is made of: 87.9% White, 0.6% African American, 17.9% Hispanic/Latino, 2.1% Native American, 0.0% Asian, 5.9% Pacific Islander, and 2.9% Other. I don't always look for the racism behind actions and words, but I couldn't help but walk away from the date feeling relieved that I wasn't asked to build a railroad. Here were the telltale signs:
We met for churros and he asked the sweet Argentinian owner for a Diet Coke to accompany the churros. The owner, with whom I've quickly become fast friends over the years, shot me a very judging look for bringing such a boy into his traditional establishment as he said, "We don't have soda. You don't drink soda and eat churros."
Apparently Plain Bagel didn't eat dinner, so I said he should order substantial food and that I didn't mind keeping him company. Note that this was only but twenty minutes after the aforementioned soda incident. He asked me if he could get a plain hamburger, with no lettuce or tomatoes. Just a bun and a slab of beef. I told him that if the establishment did not have sodas, they probably would not have a burger either. He wound up ordering a chicken torta, but asked for it without the salad, with the vinaigrette on the side, and nothing else in the mix. I have never seen a guy make so many modifications to an order before.
We were talking about shooting ranges and he shared a story about how in his hometown, there's a local mountain range where you Bring Your Own Firearm and shoot anything up the mountain. He once frequented this mountain with his family and said, "When we saw a Mexican family come with their guns too, we thought we were going to all die because, well, Mexicans with guns..."
He recanted yet another story about how he was mugged in Downtown Los Angeles when he first moved to the area. The mugger was apparently "a really scary big Black guy" and when the cops came, the assailant claimed Plain Bagel assaulted him first. PB's response to this was (and he told this to the cop as well), "Are you serious? Look at us! How can you believe that he wouldn't have attacked me?!"
We both had our wallets and phones out on the table as we were eating. Each time a person of non-white or yellow color walked by, his hand immediately floated over to his phone and wallet, and remained there until the person of color left the immediate premises. I thought it was coincidence at first, but after the 6th time over the course of two hours, I'm pretty sure we can make our own deduction.
PB yelled and spoke very slowly to the incredibly friendly Argentinian man who owned this lovely establishment because he thought he was being misunderstood when he ordered his soda and his torta without anything that made it a torta. No, sir, you're getting that confused look because you walked into a churros joint thinking it was In-N-Out.
He told me that he had really plain taste and liked very bland food. No, man, you're not only plain. You're just racist. I almost named you the Aryan Bagel.
I really wish I could give Douche Bagel a big high-five, for giving me enough golden material for THREE consecutive blog posts. Thanks, Douche Bagel, for bringing the light into my otherwise-dark life.
Let’s preface these texts with the fact that Douche Bagel's CMB profile said the following:
"I am…a complete smart ass, and love playful bantering with a witty girl, who can also dish it out as well."
Now, I may be more parts snarky and sarcastic than sweet, but I too appreciate a guy who appreciates some dry sarcasm. Unfortunately, he did not.
To be fair, though, he did come out of the gates with a winning insult and then followed it up with an inappropriate joke. I may not have been on my best behavior. I guess I dished it out a little too much? Whoops. Lates.
Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone! I’m not one for this fake holiday (even when I have someone to spend it with), but I do love the excessive amounts of sugar I get to shamelessly eat today.
So in honor of this special day, I’d like to share a Valentine’s Day joke I just received from the same bagel who asked me where I fell on the Crazy Hot scale:
What did the egg say to the pot of boiling water?
You have to give me a few minutes to get hard…I just got laid by some chick!
Now I’ll admit…I chuckled for a few seconds before rolling my eyes.
I was JUST telling my friend that I was concerned I wouldn't have enough material to sustain this blog, then this little baby came along. Thanks, Douche Bagel for sending me this pic as our first text and asking me "Where do you fall in this scale?" I'm about to send him the Douchebag Penis scale back and ask him where he falls.
I'd like to take a brief moment to discuss bagel etiquette. I feel silly for even having to mention this since I feel like bagel interaction should mirror normal human interaction, but somehow I'm left confused at the communication choices of my recent bagels. Over the last week, not one night has gone by where I have not received a text from a bagel past midnight. I don't want to sound like a complete grandma, but I'm trying to sleep by midnight because I have some early morning meetings. The last thing I want to hear is my phone chime because a bagel wanted to know what I like to do for fun. You know what I like to do for fun past 11 PM? Sleep. What's even weirder is when I get a slew of texts that begin past midnight and continue through 1 or 2 AM. It seems as though these bagels think that my lack of a response in the middle of the night is a clear sign that they need to keep texting me. Two nights ago, I was awoken by my phone ringing at 12:45 AM. Calls at this time are only reserved for emergencies. When I woke and saw a bagel calling me, I assumed it must be a butt dial. The last thing I texted him was at 8 PM and I didn't respond to his last text that was sent at 11 PM. What could he possibly have to say? After ignoring his call, I was surprised to hear my phone buzz again, alerting me of a voicemail. Oh, this should be good. I can only describe the voicemail as a desperate cry for pillow talk. His voice was hushed as if he was about to tell me his deepest secrets. However, instead of saying anything of importance, he said something along the lines of just wanting to chat because he found that texting felt so distant. Bro, if I'm not responding to your text at 11 PM, I want some distance. I responded to his last text and mentioned something along the lines of "waking up to a lot" from him, but received a response in the afternoon that didn't address the fact that he both called, texted, and left a voicemail in the middle of the night. Then he texted me at 1:30 AM the next night. To all you bagels out there, unless you are in an active conversation with someone else and receive timely responses, it may be a good idea to not text between the hours of 11 PM - 9 AM.
This is the story of a bagel who needs to make like Elsa and just let it go. (It's fitting, I promise, but I also did just want to use this gif).
He was really nice, seemed a little too enthusiastic, which made me think he was slightly left of straight, but we discussed our jobs, our families, the normal stuff. Then out of the blue, he said, "So my last relationship was May 2011," and proceeded to tell me all about it. Over the next 15 minutes, I fought his fights and I cried his tears. After feeling emotionally drained from the Sparknotes of his last relationship, I was asked the following question: "When was your last relationship?" Before I could respond with an answer, my sarcasm got the best of me. "Sorry, I forgot to circle the date of my last break up on my mental calendar." Woops.
Quickly trying to recover, I bit my tongue and used more brain cells trying to muster an accurate date than I had used all day. I told him a ballpark guesstimate of a year and he then asked what went wrong. Is it just me, or is this conversation getting a little heavy for someone I met 30 minutes ago? I literally met him an episode of How I Met Your Mother ago, and he's asking me Mosby questions. Doing my best to dodge this inquisition, he wound up telling me about what happened in all of his past relationships and what he's been doing since then.
When I finally thought I was free, I get this: "How many times have you said 'I love you'?" Dude...are you for real? I once again gave him a general number, feeling incredibly uncomfortable as a girl who does not like to feel the feels, let alone talk about the feels. I deflect in the only way I know best, and he leaps in and tells me about how he's only said the "L word" to one girl who happened to never be his girlfriend. Once again, he told me all the details of this fleeting relationship and I didn't really know what to say, so I smiled and nodded and kept on eating.
I'm sure there's a girl (or guy) out there who can love Feels Bagel, wipe away his tears, and big-spoon him into comfort. I, however, am not that person.
As part of any online dating community, CMB requires that each user fills out a short and sweet profile in the form of answering the questions: "I am...", "I like...", and "I appreciate when my date..." Here are some afternoon delights:
I Am...
Always dreaming big, an intellectual gentleman with the dreams and enthusiasm of an 8 year old, a rocket scientist You're actually unemployed and have no skills, huh?
Optimistic, Dreamer, Not funny at all You're both optimistic and a dreamer, but you're not funny? You must seriously be dull...
Optimal How is one actually 'optimal'...
Outdoorsy but also indoorsy, Mature but not serious You contradict yourself, but also make a lot of sense. Not.
Thinks it's the quirks that determine your individuality This is not how you complete the sentence.
Outgoing and a total Sagittarius You're also gay, right? Even I don't know the traits of a Sagittarius, but that's such a Cancer thing to say...
I Like...
Exploring the question of why? Not just what. Go to the woods, Thoreau, and never come back.
The outdoors, night-time explorations, pirate captains If I ever meet up with this guy and wind up dead in the woods, he's the first guy you turn into the police, ok?
Relaxing, swimming and hiking, Cook I like cook, too.
Conversations that start with sports, move to philosophy, stop by technology, swing by thermodynamics, and end with laughing, looking up at the stars with friends while making up our own constellations Can I get a shortcut? This journey seems exhausting.
Music find out later,...,... Ominous ellipses about nothing are always the way to intrigue women
An intelligent quip, siracha, mysteries It's a mystery why you can't spell Sriracha correctly. It's only one of the most important sauces ever created.
Sharing an amazing meal and drinks with intellegent, fun and positive people, getting lost in foreign countries, the riproaring sounds of a good dj It's ironic that you're spelling "intelligent" incorrectly. It must be due to those riproaring sounds and lost brain cells.
I Appreciate When My Date...
Packs extra snacks for the hike I only pack enough snacks for me. Carry your own damn snacks.
Loves the environment and animals, eats meat, likes home cook meals Something seems weird here...
Eats meat and drinks booze And now I'm sensing a theme.
Is comfortable one-on-one or in groups Are there other options??
Open minded but also opinionated, speaks her mind but plays along This was sadly a different bagel than the one above. Apparently bagels don't know what they want, or they just want everything and nothing at the same time.
And don't forget the ones that at least have a theme:
I am N/A. I like N/A. I appreciate when my date N/A. My response to this wouldn't be applicable either.
I am the remix to ignition, poppin fresh out the kitchen, mommas rollin their bodies got every man in here wishin. I like big butts and I cannot lie, you other brothers can't deny I'll meet you in the hotel lobby after the afterparty.
I am wow. I like people who are wow. I appreciate when my date is wow. I'm only whoa. Will you still like me?
I am mostly quiet. I like interesting conversation. I appreciate when my date more chaos than order, but not a complete nut, a free spirit. Am I going to have an interesting, organized, but free-spirited conversation by myself?!
I am Batman, Sarcastic, Male. I like Lamp, Movies, Christian Bale. I appreciate when my date A female, Not a man, Can keep me guessing. You're a male, you like Christian Bale, you want to date a female, not a man, but you want me to keep you guessing? You're looking for a very specific cross section of the LGBT community, aren't you?
I hope you got as many chuckles as I did from these. Thanks to some of my close friends drudging in the bagel trenches with me for these submissions.
