Let me start by saying I’m an equal opportunity dater. I’ve dated guys of different races and many different ethnic backgrounds. You can all see of my body up top there on my blog header and so you know I’m a white girl, but don’t assume that every guy I date is white. They’re not. I choose not to mention race (unlike some other blogs) and ethnicity in relation to dating because I don’t think it’s a big deal. It doesn’t affect my attraction or interest in a guy.
OK, let me step back for a minute and explain what I mean by “I don’t think it’s a big deal”. I grew up in a place and time where people dated people of other races. I can still remember than one of the most popular couples in my high school was a black/white interracial couple. And yes, there were a few people who thought that that wasn’t a good thing. I’m sure some nasty things were said about it. But It was a fact, and something that I always saw as normal.
Over the years I’ve dated guys from just about every conceivable background. I like men. All kinds of men. I do find certain features and traits more attractive than others, but those aren’t really linked to one race/ethnicity or another.
Anyway, I thought it would be helpful if I mentioned that at the start of this story. Otherwise, what I’m about to write might seem even more poltically incorrect than it is.
A couple of years ago I met this guy. Handsome, really successful (one of those guys who had his own international consulting firm by the time he was 35, although for the life of me I never did understand what he/they did) and fun to be with. But something was just off. Our dates were spread out, I remember, because he travelled so much. So it was a once a week, once every other week kind of thing. On our third date he asked me to go to Paris with him on a business trip/vacation. It wasn’t a throw away line. He mentioned concrete dates and was clear about the invitation. The trip was a full month away. I said I’d have to think about it.
At this point he hadn’t even kissed me yet. That’s right. A concrete invitation to go to Paris for the week, a month later, but we hadn’t yet kissed. We’d “known” each other for about a month. But that was only because our dates were so spread out.
After dinner, on that third date, I suggested we go for a walk and we ended up walking towards my apartment. I wasn’t planning on inviting him up, although I was thinking I might. I just wanted to make sure we kissed, at least.
So we got to my stoop and he just stood there and continued to chat away. And so we chat awhile and then I said it was time I went up and still nothing. So I leaned in to kiss him and planted a rather chaste one on him. I’m just not good at being the aggressor. It’s not my thing.
Anyway, another week passed. Phone calls, emails, texts blah blah blah and another date. And so afterwards we ended up at my apartment and here is where I will save us all of the embarrasing details.
He didn’t want to have sex with me. He played along through some rather passionless kissing and then nothing. Then the next day he wanted me to come out to a pseudo business dinner with him. It was all bizarre. Until it wasn’t.
I called two of my best friends, one a straight woman and one a gay man and told them all of the gory details. They both came back with the same verdict. Gay! And probably wanting me to play his girlfriend with business associates.
On one level this made total sense. His asking me along on a business trip before we even kissed. His lack of interest in sex. Sure. But the thing is, I have amazing gaydar. Like unbelievably flawless. I’m usually spot on. But then there was something throwing me off. Data that I just wan’t used to calculating. He was Chinese. And had a pretty conservative upbringing (here, in the states).
But because I’d never dated a Chinese guy before, much less someone who described his upbringing as very traditional and conservative, there were all of these little things he did that I wrote off as “Chinese” when in fact they were “gay”. Like being so standoffish about physical contact. He didn’t not touch me out of respect. He didn’t touch me because he didnt want to.
Anyway, I think about this story sometimes when I’m starting to see someone new. It’s a stupid story, I know. But it’s a good example of how easy it is to misinterpret a person’s actions.
Tags: date, equal opportunity dater