Sugar Daddy Dot Com was not my only foray into online dating. At the behest of the Overly Friendly Fox and the Party Lion, I joined a free social networking site, primarily geared towards dating. The Fox and the Lion had both had great success meeting dudes on this website, so after quite a bit of persuasion, I was willing to give it a shot.
When something is free, you usually get what you pay for. My beloved grandparents gave me a Buick in high school that broke down on the on-ramp to the highway. That is a lot like my experience on this particular website. Lots of people are interested, but no one really wants to be proactive. It was more a showcase in how cool everyone could be and how none of us ever really did anything like this “online dating thing”.
But there is always a diamond in the rough. That diamond’s name? Evan Michaels.
You know when your heart says, “Panda! That guy dyes his hair blonde and does yoga and seems like he’s slipped a roofie or two into an unattended beer. Step away!” but your need to be nice and not hurt someone’s feelings intervenes? Because I do.
Evan Michaels was a writer, seemed to like theatre, was from the South. After a couple of online messages, I agreed to give him my number so he could call me.
This phone call was when the real magic happened. Evan Michaels told me a lot about himself. First, he was writing a book about cats. With his mom. His relationship with his mom was very important, which he made sure to mention several times.
But Evan Michaels didn’t just write about cats with his mom. He also wrote theatre reviews. He didn’t mention which publications featured these reviews, but I would bet probably all of them. Evan Michaels was especially proud of this because it got him free tickets to see shows. I’m sure the producers would be thrilled to know what font of knowledge received these press comps.
Yet for once this scene isn’t just about the most infamous usurer in theater history. Shylock is played by Al Pacino. And as with most of Mr. Pacino’s performances, this one is deeply intelligent and deeply irritating. But it is to the credit of both actor and director that Mr. Pacino serves Mr. Sullivan’s vision perfectly here.
For as this Shylock rants — and the lines between wrathful avarice and paternal anguish blur beyond reckoning — his state of confusion becomes a heightened mirror of everything around him. As the lights dim on Shylock in limbo, it suddenly hits you that Shakespeare’s vengeance-addled Jew is neither merely the victim nor the villain of this piece; he is instead the very soul of the money-drunk society he serves and despises.
(full review seen here: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/07/01/theater/reviews/01merchant.html?pagewanted=all )
“I walked out. Theatres shouldn’t do Shakespeare anymore because no one talks that way.”
(full review only available inside the most irritated part of my brain)
That was it for me in terms of Evan Michaels. At the end of what I considered to be a disaster of a conversation, he said, “We should definitely grab a drink sometime.” I gave him what I considered to be a polite brush-off and never expected to hear from again.
I clearly underestimated Evan Michaels. He decided to call and text me with wild abandon, even in the face of absolute radio silence, which might deter a lesser more socially clued-in man, but not Evan Michaels. Evan Michaels would call once and not leave a voice mail. Then he would call again to leave a voicemail. Then he would send me a text, all in the span of two to three minutes. The best part of this communication, besides all the creepy behavior I just mentioned, was that he signed every single text Evan Michaels. As if anyone else’s number has ever appeared on my phone that often.
This behavior went on for a month or so before quieting down. I figured he had finally gotten the hint and moved on to the next lucky lady.