Alas, Shakespeare was NOT in love.

Shakespeare is a Renaissance man in a modern world. A video game designer during the day, he hides in coffee shops at night to work on his plays. As a hobby, the accredited playwright competes in triathalons during the weekends; so when he’s not transforming his daydreams into scenes, he’s out running, biking, and trying not to drown (swimming is his worst leg).

The juxtapositions swirling around one barrel-chested man were major selling points.  We also had a lot to talk about. But there’s more to romance than a good convo.  The mouth has other fabulous uses other than confabulation and one was practiced during a lunch date at a vegan* macrobiotic restaurant.

Broken down to its Greek roots, macro meaning large and bio meaning life, a macrobiotic diet is a way to a longer, grander life. According to webmd: “The macrobiotic diet regimen supports an Eastern philosophy of balancing foods to attain a balance of yin and yang. To achieve that balance, foods are paired based on their sour, sharp, salty, sweet, or bitter characteristics. Yin foods are cold, sweet, and passive while yang** foods are hot, salty, and aggressive.”

Like the perfect relationship between two people, a macrobiotic diet takes two halves to form one whole. It’s kind of romantic….NOT.

There’s nothing carnal about kale and chickpeas. Brown rice is not sexy even when spiced up with quinoa (keen-wah) and FYI, the childhood rhyme about a bean’s side effects is still true in your twenties.  Gastronomically speaking, nothing says “lets just be friends” more than a vegan macrobiotic lunch.

And even if we had discovered, prior to this platonic nooner, a more interesting use for our mouths, the experience doesn’t guarantee deeper explorations. Great kisses end, apparently, even if there’s still a lot to say.

* In case, you didn’t know (because I didn’t look into it until after this date) vegans abstain from all animal products (no eggs, dairy, honey, fur, etc.). It’s a lifestyle usually fueled by issues and concerns—social and ethical.  But as society has become more health conscious and as more copies of Skinny Bitch are sold, veganism has shrunk to its most basic and smaller self—just another diet, like Atkins or South Beach. End diatribe here.

**I was definitely the Yang in the relationship. (Insert Asian joke here)



This guy was NOT my date though they may know each other. They will be downtown, perched on their three-wheeled steed, a horde of pedicab drivers waiting for drunk tourists to stumble out of bars like a wrecker waits for an accident.

His profile mentioned something about breakfast tacos and riding a motorbike down a steep hill chasing after cocoa plants in South America. The writing was nonsensical and gave no real information about the man with the beautiful smile but since I was apparently blinded by his pearly whites, I decided to meet him for a drink.

It was only after I agreed to cocktails, that he casually mentioned he was a pedicab driver.

It doesn’t matter if his withholding of information was intentional. It would have come out during the conversation anyway.  But I’m going to be honest. I wouldn’t have dated him had I known of his job upfront. If that makes me shallow, then so be it.  It’s not about the money for they can make a good living.  It’s not about ambition or intelligence because many drivers have all their gears turning. Awesome glutes notwithstanding, my hours are too normal for someone whose dating schedule depends on fickle Texas weather.

“I think it’s going to rain Saturday. Let’s hang out.”

I don’t think so.

So while I wait for John Mayer, I’ll be avoiding the Warehouse district and running in the opposite direction when I hear the sharp ping-ping of bicycle bells.

If you have to break Piggy, don't take her out.

Some dating advice for the fellas out there:

1. When being solicited for a donation to feed starving children in third world countries, use your real name. So what if they call you for a week to follow up on your hollow promise. At least you won’t look like a jerk in front of a stranger you’re trying to impress.
2. You shouldn’t go on a date the day a family member dies because grieving is a sneaky process. One thinks they’re okay to take a girl out for drinks a few short hours after grandma passes, but they’re really not. Grandma will make numerous surprise appearances and will be the punch line for jokes, so many, in fact, that your date might say:  “Could you stop with the grandma jokes? It’s making me uncomfortable.” Grief is so consuming at times that it makes one forgetful, leading me to my third piece of advice.
   
3. Please remember to bring your wallet. Even during blind dates, at the very least, you should pay for half. There are special circumstances (like death) that might absolve one from payment.  For example, this is perfectly reasonable: “With all that’s happened, I completely forgot my wallet. I’m sorry but you’re going to have to pay for your overpriced   white sangria and calamari.
   

What is not acceptable, is supplementing the bill with a bag of change. It’s impossible to be discreet about shoving $7 of quarters you got from cleaning out your tollway fund, even if you do it under the table.  The server, upon lifting the now hefty check holder, will find your behavior odd and so will your date. You will be unforgettable—in a bad way.

Now some online dating advice for the ladies.

1. Come prepared: bring cash in case your date did not.
2. Be thorough when you creep: comb over the profile and look for warning signs. Also important, look through all photos.  That way, you won’t be surprised to discover that you’re on a blind date with your good girlfriend’s boyfriend’s brother.

OY. Until next time, I’m still waiting for John Mayer.

After telling my friend about my dates with Bag-o-Change guy (who we nicknamed ‘fihty cent’) and Pedicab driver, she asked me: “Why are you online dating?”

I didn’t have an answer yet, or one short enough to give over a quick PBJ sandwich. I have my reasons, and they were enough for me to post a profile and spend time peering into pixelated eyes for potential love interests.

It’s been a month since my quixotic adventure began and as the length of my membership wears on, I’m sure the weird factor will increase exponentially.  At the end, when I log out for good—for better or for worse—I hope to have an answer for my friend.

Until then, I’m saving myself for John Mayer.

Yours,

R.M.R