I was introduced to the term "pescaterian" a couple of years ago by a co-worker. I thought it was sort of funny then and I think it's sort of extra funny now. A better way to phrase this type of person might be "conscientious eater". And by conscientious, I might mean finicky. Or maybe even picky. That all sounds a bit derogatory and I don't want to make fun of anyone for what they eat or in this case don't eat, but I think the stereotype of silliness that is implied by this term tends to hold true.
Have I set the table yet?
Tuesday is apparently date night, so I took the night off from yoga, much to my own dismay, and traveled an hour north to the lovely town of Laguna Beach to meet up with a 5' 9" blonde writer sporting a sprained ankle. Expectations were low, this is the O.C. after all, and my personality really doesn't fit in all that well. But, I have my resources, and after consulting the area's expert, himself a resident of Surfside and certified lady killer, I had a great dinner lined up. The butternut squash ravioli was excellent, and ironically named to match FTBH's dog. The golden beet salad was wonderful as well. I highly enjoyed the oversized brussel sprouts, cut in half and browned, but my date wasn't so thrilled with the smoky flavor that somehow leapt over into the pasta dish. A purely vegetarian dinner, meant to be shared, was consumed almost entirely by me. Two glasses of wine, not meant to be shared, were consumed by her.
Now before I get all glass-is-half-empty about this, let me mention that a warm "thank you" was received on my way home and a "let's do this again soon" as well. Which might have caught me by surprise if I weren't so in tune with how a single event can be viewed quite differently by different parties. I suspect it was a fairly pleasant date from her perspective. I made conversation, asked her extensively about herself, her family, her likes and dislikes, and made sure to sustain eye contact throughout her stories. She had the opportunity to eat if she had felt like it, and she got some drinks and a chance to talk. Plus it was a quick 10-15 minute drive for her, so it very much could have been a "this was fun" attitude that she walked away with.
From my side, I suppose I'm left feeling empty on this one. Empty because an attractive woman with no red flags fails to interest me. Normal guys would want to hit that s. Somehow, for whatever reason, I found myself distraught at the lack of smiling on her behalf. I wanted to feel some warmth, some joy, a hint of excitement, but all I got was a couple of frowns and a smirk. I know body language isn't always the best indicator of how someone is feeling, and I do realize that not everyone knows the value of a smile in terms of communicating, but I suppose that has become something important for me now.
More interesting than smiling or not smiling, eating or not eating, was how I found my thoughts drifting off on the nature of attraction. When I was younger, attraction seemed so entirely physical. And there are definitely still scenarios where that remains true. But, on top of that basic physical nature of attraction, the deeper longing for someone who actually enhances your life by sharing it with you has taken over. The attraction I crave is one based in understanding and intellectual acceptance and that desire greatly eclipses any physical impulses I might have. I have become a guy who can lose interest in someone who does not have the capacity to understand someone like me. When I think of intimacy, I think first of sharing thoughts and understanding and not just the physical nature of two bodies being in the same space.
This is all so strange to me. An attractive woman who seems ready for a 2nd date and yet I'm busy overanalyzing her inability to smile or laugh and how that affected me.