Shine Bright Like a Diamond

Originally posted January 2017, discussed on You’re Such a Catch Podcast S1:E6: First Dates.

I received a new match alert on my iPhone, and as I input my four-digit code (that everyone and their sister is privy to), I unlocked the mystery of who swiped right. His name was Shawn, age 33, 16 miles away. He was “active” moments ago.

His profile read:

Outgoing, social, funny, and genuine…looking for a beautiful woman who knows what she wants and doesn’t settle for less.

Things I do: Woodworking, wine tasting, yoga, start-up development

I was intrigued. However, Shawn’s parents were confused about the correct spelling of the name Sean. My parents were obviously in the know, as they spelled my brother’s name properly, but I wouldn’t hold that against him. I was married to a man with a female first name and the last name Butts for goodness sake; I could live with an S-h-a-w-n, Shawn. Shawn was looking for a beautiful woman who knows what she wants and doesn’t settle for less, and low and behold he swiped right on her! Me!

We exchanged a few messages, and things seemed to be going in the right direction. Shawn seemed interesting enough, nice enough, and normal enough to go on a date with. He picked the day and the place, and I obliged. We were going to meet at MB Post at 8 pm on a Sunday night. If you’ve never been to MB Post, I’d describe it as one of Manhattan Beach’s finest. Known for its playful artisan menu and handcrafted cocktails, Shawn was pulling out all the stops, not to mention, it’s a “$$$” restaurant, according to Yelp.

We met inside the bar where the ambiance was fun and lively, despite it being a Sunday night. He was dressed nice in dark denim jeans with a lighter denim button-down. I wouldn’t have put those exact pieces together myself, but Shawn made it work. He was cuter in person. His hair gelled perfectly. His eyebrows were shaped as good or better than mine. He was tan, naturally, and when he smiled, I couldn’t help but think he was related to the cute blond in the Orbit gum commercials.

I thought I looked nice. I took a selfie to document that I was actually going out on a date. I suppose it could have been the last photo I took if Shawn turned out to be some serial killer or kidnapper. Before I go on any date, I always tell my brother and his girlfriend where I’m going, so they can report me missing later if necessary. Thankfully they’ve never had to act on this, but they know if I were to go missing, I’d prefer my picture to appear on a wine bottle versus a lousy milk carton that gives the majority of Americans stomach issues after consumption.

There was definitely chemistry. He was funny and smart and successful. I was enthralled in our conversation, leaning in, showing I was interested. I focused on communicating the thoughts and things on my mind in a fashion that would make him realize that I was that beautiful girl who knows what she wants and doesn’t settle for less. We enjoyed our drinks and shared some small plates, and he suggested we continue the night, elsewhere. I was a little surprised he wanted to go to another spot, as he initially said he wasn’t feeling all that hot from the sushi lunch he enjoyed with his friends earlier in the day, but I figured he wouldn’t have suggested it if he weren’t feeling up to it.

We walked to Shellback Tavern, my favorite dive bar, not too far down the street. We each took a seat at the bar, and he ordered a round of vodka soda waters. I take mine with a lime and cherry to make it a little more exciting. He proposed a toast to a fun night, we clanked plastic cups, and each took a sip. He asked me if I was up for playing a game. “Sure, why not?” I said.

And so it goes, this was the pivotal point of the evening in which the momentum of this date shifted.

Disclaimer: If you’d like to play the game yourself, do so before reading ahead. Reading ahead will hinder your ability to play fair and square. This BuzzFeedVideo explains it all: The Cube Test

So he sets the scene for me: “Erin, imagine a desert that expands as far as you can see. In the desert is a cube. Describe the cube. What does it look like? How large is it? What is it made of? Where is it exactly?”

I’m sure I was preoccupied with scooping the cherry out of my plastic cup with my tiny bar straw, but I responded, playing along. “I see the cube, but it’s not a cube. It’s actually a diamond, a large diamond. It’s sitting in the middle of the desert on top of sand.”

He continues, “As you look at the desert and your cube, you notice there is also a ladder. Describe it to me. What is it made out of? How big is it? Where is it in relation to the cube?”

I wasn’t sure what he was doing and where this was all leading, but I replied, “I see the ladder. It is made of fabric pieces knotted together. It’s quite large in length, and it happens to be laying down in the sand next to the diamond.”

He then said, “Now imagine that in the scene there is a horse. Where is the horse, and what is it doing? Where, if anywhere, is it going?”

Of course I had to ask the obvious, “Why is there a horse in the desert?” I didn’t wait for him to answer. I responded, “I see the horse. It’s a brown thoroughbred, muscular and strong. The horse is standing next to me, and I am petting it.”

He said we were almost done, and added, “In the scene before you are flowers. Describe the flowers. How many do you see? What do they look like? Where are they in relation to the horse, cube, ladder, and sand?”

I was really getting into this game now, “I see flowers. I see the most beautiful flowers, Gerber daisies. They are bright, in every color. They are blooming everywhere. They are braided in the horse’s mane, and entwined in the ladder covering the sand.” I spared him the monologue on how flowers have difficulty growing in desert-like conditions.

Shawn said this was the last scenario and set of questions, “In the desert, there is a storm. Describe the storm. What type of storm is it? Is it close to you or far away? Does it affect the horse, flowers, cube, or ladder?”

“I can see a storm brewing. I see thunder and lightning in the sky. It’s really far in the distance. It isn’t close to me at all. It doesn’t bother the horse, the flowers, the cube or the ladder. It looks as if it is going away, and the sun is shining again.” I laugh, and then ask with a huge grin, “Do I win? Did I pass? I don’t quite get it.”

And then he broke it down for me.

“The cube is how you view yourself. You mentioned the cube or diamond being large, meaning you’re pretty sure of yourself. The vertical placement of the cube is how grounded you are. You said it was on top of the sand, meaning you’re pretty down to earth. The cube’s material conveys how open you are. You described yourself as a diamond, and diamonds shine. This most likely means you’re a positive person who spreads good energy, among others. The ladder represents your friends. Your friends weren’t leaning on the cube; they were next to the cube. This represents that you aren’t dependent on them, nor are they on you. The material your ladder was contrived of was cloth, but knotted together, which could mean that your friendships aren’t strong in foundation and could unravel. The horse represents your dream partner. You described the horse as strong and said you were petting it. Erin, are you currently seeing someone?”

Caught slightly off guard while taking in all of this information and trying to get Rihanna’s Diamonds lyrics out of my head, I defensively replied, “No. I am single. You’re asking me that…because of this silly game?”

He went on to say, “I’m just making sure. Okay…so the flowers represent children. The number relates to the amount of children you imagine having.”

I stop him dead in his tracks, laughing uncontrollably. “Flowers equal children? I said they were growing everywhere, entwined in the ladder and blooming in the sand, and I even said they were braided in the horse’s hair. Lord, help me.”

He laughed, but it was more of a nervous laughter at this point, “The colors represent health and presumed prosperity.”

I wasn’t sure what to make of this. Flashbacks of playing the game MASH with my junior high school friends were running rampant. I have always wanted children, and when I was younger, I definitely wanted a large family. Now, in my mid-30’s as my so-called biological clock was ticketing and understanding the risks and the responsibility that comes with parenthood, having one child, maybe two seemed plenty.

Finally, he addressed the storm, “The storm represents threat or negativity. This speaks to where you are currently in your life. A distant storm means there is low perceived risk in your life, which is great. Sometimes people are caught in the midst of the storm, meaning they’re enduring some kind of personal struggle or adversity in their life.”

As I was taking this all in and trying to process what each component of the game meant, Shawn paid the bar tab and said he was going to run to the bathroom. I had so many thoughts running through my head. I didn’t realize I look at myself in such a positive light; seeing the cube as a diamond was something that surprised me. Then the horse, although I described it as strong, had flowers in its mane. Was this implying my dream partner was feminine? Was I a closeted lesbian and unaware? Obviously, I am not into women, so the logic or symbolism behind this game must be bogus. But I continued to hash out each component to myself.

In terms of friendship, I was experiencing a lot of adversity with friends or friends I thought were friends, so the fact that the material in which the ladder was contrived meant I was not reliant on my friends made perfect sense. I don’t even want to get into the overgrown, abundance of flowers…maybe that is a reflection of how much I like children? It must be. Thankfully the storm was in no relation to my whereabouts. My focus on maintaining a positive attitude was overturning any negative feelings I may have been encountering. It was then I realized Shawn had been gone for quite some time.

I kept looking to my right, back by the bathroom entrance, waiting for him to return. There must have been a line, no reason to post his face on a wine bottle just yet. To my left were two gays belly up to the bar. I proceeded to introduce myself and gave them the reader’s digest version of my Tinder date. I was still looking over my right shoulder every couple of minutes for Shawn.

A solid ten minutes had passed, and one of the gays asked, “Wait. What was your Tinder date wearing?” I replied, chuckling as I described the two-tone denim, knowing the gays wouldn’t approve. The words spoken next, I will forever have ingrained in my head, “He hit the ATM machine and bounced out the backdoor about five minutes ago.” I gasped. No way. This can’t be. No. He couldn’t have? Could he? He left me at the bar…by myself? I reached down and grabbed my phone from my purse. AT&T has poor reception at Shells. I ran out the backdoor and immediately dialed his number. He didn’t answer. I panicked. It wasn’t because I couldn’t get home okay, or because I was scared to be out alone at night, but rather because I was coming to the realization that the beautiful girl who knows what she wants and won’t settle for less just got left at a dive bar…

This day in age, you can call someone, and they don’t answer, but shoot off a text ten seconds later, and you see the three dots hovering on the bottom of the screen indicating they are reading and responding to your text.

11:42 pm Me: You left me at the bar. That’s probably the meanest thing anyone has ever done. Why? I don’t get it.

11:43 pm Him: What are you taking about? I tried to say I’m leaving, but you were talking to a guy. I tried to talk to you for about 5 minutes, but you wouldn’t turn around.

11:45 pm Me: They told me you walked out the door. The gay guys. You never came back. I waited.

11:45 pm Me again: Well, thank you for the laughs and drinks. I honestly thought you were a nice guy.

11:47 pm Him: Thank you. You’re a sweetheart.

That was the last text I received from S-h-a-w-n. He thought I was a sweetheart, yet he left me without notice at the bar. Gays are upfront, and they tell you how it is. Had Shawn have been standing behind me for 5 minutes trying to say goodbye, they would have said, “Hey, that straight guy wearing mismatched denim is trying to get your attention.” But that didn’t happen. He left. No goodnight. No romantic hand-holding as we strolled on the sidewalk, enjoying the crisp, cool beach air while waiting for our Ubers to arrive.

What happened? Was it the depiction of flowers in a desert equivalent to a 70’s Woodstock binger that ended with several babies conceived out of peace, love, and happiness that scared him away? Why the ATM? Why did he need cash: a taxi; a strip club, a drug deal? I don’t think I will ever know what happened to Shawn, or why he “hit the ATM and bounced”. After replaying the scenario in my head over and over again, deliberating and nursing my wounds, I came to my own conclusion as to why Shawn had to leave without a goodbye. This rationale definitely made the rejection easier to accept. I decided his upset stomach he mentioned earlier was, in fact, bad sushi. It must have caught up with him, and when he went to the bathroom, he shit himself. Embarrassed, he needed to grab cash from the ATM to buy new drawers on the way home. I mean, this was the only logical explanation. I never heard from Shawn again. In fact, he unmatched me on Tinder before I even made it home that night, and I live less than ten minutes from Shells.

Fast forward.

Little did I know then that Shawn and I would cross paths again. Most recently, Shawn shows up in my suggested friends on Facebook. Thank you so much for the constant reminder of this Tinder nightmare, Mark Zuckerberg. I have taken it upon myself to peruse his profile page, what is made public. He has some pictures with his mom, looking sweet and innocent. I’ve considered sending the ole friend request just to jog his memory, perhaps make him sweat a little if he even has a conscience. It’d remind him of that horrific day in which he ate bad sushi and it gave him explosive diarrhea, on a date, at a dive bar, in a bathroom with no doors on the stalls (so I’ve heard). Thus far I’ve managed to maintain my composer and refrained from such juvenile acts.

Shorty after Facebook threw Shawn in my face. I stumbled upon something ironic and incessantly entertaining, a blog by Suzy McCoppin. Her post was featured on Pop Dust: Adventures in Online Dating – Spotlight on JDate It appears as if Suzy also crossed paths with Shawn. No, they didn’t both swipe right on Tinder, rather their matzo balls aligned on JDate where the tagline of the online dating portal reads: “Jewish? Single? Tired of your mother asking why?”

Suzy labels Shawn as the “Guy my mom would want me to date.” She tells of how she fell in love at first read when he quoted the lyrics of the Fresh Prince of Bel Air theme song in his “About Me” section. She also coins him as being “fluid” and “witty” and “fluent on many subjects”. I agree Suzy. Shawn appears to be the perfect guy, aside of his lack of manners and ability to leave a woman he’s on a date with at a bar without saying goodbye. Rejection is tough, but reading Suzy’s post was therapeutic. I’m not sure how I feel about her closing technique in her blog, but it did bring me to the realization that the self-proclaimed outgoing, social, funny and genuine guy I went on a date with was not a fit for this beautiful woman who knows what she wants and doesn’t settle for less. That’s for damn sure!