Have a great weekend! No love from Dr. Jane on Monday, because Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was an honorable, hard-working man, and we will pay our respects to him and his accomplishments by taking the day off and consuming obscene amounts of beer. It’s the American way!

Materials (the guy, the place, any other variables):

• I gathered from the initial mandatory getting-to-know-you questions that he is some kind of business analyst, whatever that means. And he seems quirky, so I’m intrigued.
• We are going to a restaurant that, so far as I can tell, has an identity crisis. It’s pretty popular, but it doesn’t know if it’s a sushi place or a mexican restaurant. And it doesn’t know if it’s a food establishment or a night club. Seriously, this place is confused, and I hope it’s a fun as I hear it is.

Procedures (omg what happened???): Holy mother of all bad dates.

Let’s be clear. It was perhaps the most uncomfortable/ awkward yet simultaneously FUN Experiment I have yet conducted. I imagine this is somewhat like what skydiving would be like: it scares the crap out of you, but WHOAH was it exhilarating with an awesome story.

Ok, so I get there and he’s already at the bar, taking a JAEGER BOM with the bartender. I mean, I’ve heard of liquid courage before a date, but right off the bat that seems excessive. He sees me and gives me a giant bear hug like he’s known me for years, and asks the bartender to get us two more Jaeger bombs. Mind you, I don’t drink Jaeger (unless I am already blacked out… you learn a lot about yourself in college). So I tell him to make mine a car bomb, and I decide then and there that the rest of the night will be beer only because I am not looking to get shithoused on a school night. He switches his to a car bomb and we take them together. Then we have to wait for our table.

Here’s a good time to talk about the restaurant, if we can call it that. Rememebr how I said it didn’t know if it was a cuisine provider or a rave in progress? Well it is, in fact, both. So the music is THUMPING, and the lights are all flashy and here I am at the bar with Mr. I’m-Ready-For-Some-ACTION, trying to figure out how to relate to this guy. He orders ANOTHER COCKTAIL from the bar and I ask for a Saporro. He’s got his arm around me, but it’s in a “we’re bffs from way back, don’t worry about it” kinda way, not a creepy “omg this guy is going to roofie me” kind of way. Don’t worry, though. I was still pretty concerned he might roofie me. One of the first tings he says to me is – and I’m not making this up – “Jane! How the hell have you been!”

Ok, so we finally get seated, and as much adrenaline as my body is producing out of sheer anxiety for this dude and establishment, all I can think about is eating some noms and getting the hell out of there. I mean, I’m 90% certain he snorted an entire 8-ball before he showed up on the date. It was terrifying, and yet, incredibly amusing. I mean, some of the things this guy would say were UNREAL. Like “If legends are made in a factory built by the gods, then I run that factory!” Um, I take a lot of issues with that statement. Let’s list them below:

• You think that somewhere up in the clouds there are multiple deities who have built an industrial compound that manufactures adult human beings who become what society deems worthy of acknowledgement as a “legend.”
• Not all legends are people. A lot of them are allegories. Fables, if you will.
• You are likely drugged out and definitely drunk, yet you think you are capable of managing the output of a factory.
• As cocky and inappropriate as you are, you do not claim to be a god, but rather a man employed by the gods to work a blue-collar position that creates something that you want to be… but you are not yourself one of them…

Ok, I have to stop thinking about it, because I fear I am on the verge of an aneurysm.

We eat sushi and he carries on saying things, 90% of which make no sense. All the while he’s ordering more cocktails, and I stick with the beer. He wants to do sake bombs, but I am just a little too apprehensive to rally that kind of enthusiasm for getting smash-hammered with Captain Obnoxious.  

After we finish eating (the sushi, btw, was alright, but not the amazing I expect – I am a sushi snob, and this was about the lowest grade I would consider eating: fresh, but not fantastic) we head to a bar next door and I tell him I have to use the ladies’ room. LUCKY FOR ME this particular bar is located on the corner, and the “back” is really the other entrance. So I walk straight out of the establishment, hail the first cab I see, and peace out of there as fast as that guy could say “Jane! Where the hell have you been!”

Results (the good, the bad, and the ugly): You cannot possibly fathom the amount of energy that date took. I sincerely felt like I had worked out at the gym while consuming booze. This guy should come with a hazard label. His privileges to date should be revoked until he goes to some rehab meetings AND takes some leveling medication. He was seriously 6 shades of tan and 3 inches of blownout hair away from being a perfect candidate for Jersey Shore. And that is fun to watch, but not fun to experience.

Conclusion (overall rating): Wow, how do I score this? I remember when I turned 18 I went out and got something like 9 piercings in 6 months because I was addicted. There’s something about getting a needle shoved through your skin to make you feel ALIVE. So this was kind of like that. It was definitely painful but almost in a weirdly exciting way. I’m gonna say it was EITHER a 2, OR a 7. I have no way of deciding. But I am glad it’s over.

After reading about my perfect VD2K5, my buddy Steve asked me what went down to make it so perfect. Without divulging all the romantic details, my ex-bf took me to this super-plush, incredibly thematic fantasy-style hotel. We’re talking fabrics and spas and tile and velvet and mirrors. Lots of mirrors. Plus he brought tons of wine and cheeses and meats and bread. This boy knew me WELL. After sharing this with Steve, he started looking into this idea to take his girlfriend. He then uncovered this amazing gem.

I am without words. THIS IS REAL! THERE ARE REALLY PEOPLE WHO GO TO THIS PLACE!!!

Look, here we have a “Space Odyssey” fantasy. Yes, people will pay money to bone down in a spaceship-looking bed!

Or if you just can’t shake your obsession with The Little Mermaid (hey, we were all five years old once, and not everyone can let go of that), you can choose the “Under the Sea” room.

Complete, ladies and gentlemen, with a fantastic yet unhygienic-looking spa that appears to be inside a whale. Amirite?

But that’s just at their Minnesota location, folks. Let’s see what goodies we can dredge up in Wisconsin!

After seeing The Golden Compass, who wouldn’t get down and dirty in a plastic igloo? That’s why there is the eloquently named “Northern Lights” room.

Or better yet! Why not boogie on a bed that SWINGS!

Other rooms worth mentioning are the moon-landing room (not joking), the fake hot air balloon basked room (not joking), the room with a boat-shaped tub AND a bed in a boat (not joking), the renaissance room complete with a boombox (not joking!), and of course, the room with a car in it (not joking), because who wouldn’t want to hook up on a 1973 Oldsmobile Delta ’88 Royale convertible?

Seriosuly, check out the panoramic views to see the wallpapers and other decor used in these creative rooms. Were it not for the great physical distance between me and these places, you can bet your sweet little tushy I’d be there lickety-split with whatever random dweeb I could find to get to parking the beef bus in tuna town.

No seriously, this simultaneously disturbs me and makes me laugh. It’s a creepy feeling, kinda like the way you feel when you watch Celine Dion – you want to like her, but you also want to punch her in the face. It’s a complex emotion.

Anyway, that concludes sharetime. Check back tomorrow for Experiment #16. You’ll be into it. I know this, because I was NOT into it, which at the very least makes for a great story.

Materials (the guy, the place, any other variables):

• As I mentioned, he’s a photographer. He used to be a fashion photograhper in a really big City that is not this City, but he moved here because he wanted to get more into commercial photography. I have no idea what that means.
• Oh, after the mini-adventure that moved outside the conventional date of dinner/drinks, I am addicted to alternative dates. So I told this to the Subject I wanted something outside the box, and he invited me to a gallery opening in a really swanky part of town.  

Procedures (omg what happened???): Now I used to be what the queer boys refer to as a “fag hag.” I hung out with all seven of the gay men in my little hometown (there were probably more than that… but let’s pretend). And I loved being a fag hag because gay boys will buy you drinks if they want to meet one of the guys you’re rolling with. As such, I developed a very acute sense who is gay and who is straight. This has been come to known in the parlance of our times as “gaydar.” My gaydar was calibrated to within a one bisexual kiss. It was precise, honed and fun. And then “metro” came about and now I have no idea who is gay and who is straight. Seriously. I am LOST.

I would SWEAR this Subject liked the boys. It was just like hanging out with one of my girlfriends. Yet he kept talking about his ex-girlfriend and how she had broken his heart by cheating on him, which prompted the move. Now normally I would feel incredibly uncomfortably listening to a first date talk about his ex, but here I felt like two spinsters bitching about why we were still single at the ripe old ages of 24 and 25.

Let’s talk gallery. If you’ve never been to a gallery opening, they can be fun and they can be horrid. The key is to find the ones with the good booze and perhaps even some food. This particular gallery was mostly modern/weird stuff (I never took art appreciation…), but the wine was pretty decent and the hours d’oeuvres were nomtastic. Think feta stuffed grilled portabello mushrooms and bacon-wrapped shrimp. These things are what I affectionately refer to as “heaven in my mouth.”

Despite my inability to accept this guy was legitimately interested in me as a specimen of the opposite sex, we had a fair amount of fun! He has some great stories from when he lived in the other City, including a wealth of people he’s photographed as an assistant, like Alec Baldwin, Edward Norton, and Hannah Montana. He’s traveled all over the world on photo shoots, and from the sounds of it, most of his guy friends are gay men. A conversation about GoGo dancers in the 70s definitely happened. Yes it did.

So my favorite story of the night was about his best friend’s birthday, which was a few weeks ago. Yes, his bff is gay. They had a house party with copious amounts of alcohol before going out to this City’s notoriously gay neighborhood. They wound up at a bar on the edge of the gayborhood, and who else would be there but Tom Green. No, not the polygamist. Tom Green the crass entertainer from such films as Road Trip. So what do you do when you find yourself in a bar with a man who has licked a horse’s penis? You do round after round of Car Bombs with said man, that’s what. Nothing like blacking out with a D-list celebrity.

Results (the good, the bad, and the ugly): It was entertaining. This is probably the most comfortable I’ve felt on a date because in no way did I feel I needed to be defensive of “where this is going.” I would consider breaking my no second dates rule for this one because he’s just so fabulous, but only if he comes out to me and admits that the only reason he’s on HowAmINotMarriedYet.com is either

His family is very conservative and he needs a beard to lessen some of the pressure of his current lifestyle.

He just loves making new girlfriends!

Conclusion (overall rating): Oh everything was fun. I had a decent hangover the next day from the wine, so apparently it wasn’t as great as I remembered, but all in all this guy definitely deserves an 8. That breaks the record, ladies and gentlemen. An ambiguously gay man has set the bar as high as it’s ever been set. Damn skippy it’s 2010

Why do I hate VD? (That’s Valentines Day, not venereal disease, but the two are equally terrifying to me.) I have a long list of reasons. Very long. Here are some of the bigger ones:

• It’s always over-priced and over-booked. You have to plan way in advance to spend an obscene amount of money on an inevitably sub-par experience because your expectations are so high.
• If the only day of the year your significant other (Let’s be real, by “significant other” I mean the male in the relationship. Sorry to stereotype. That’s the way it is.) feels it is necessary to exhibit romantic tendencies is the one day of the year every other male in the country is expected to do the same, you have bigger problems with your courtship than the disappointment you are certain to encounter on V-day.
• The very premise of the day subverts modern evolution of relationships. Think about it: marriage is getting pushed back to later and later in life, on average, and more and more people are choosing not to get married at all. Which I think is great because I’m not really a fan of marriage. But VD perpetuates the sentiment that if you are not one half of a couple on February 14th, there is something wrong with you. Society expects you (And by “you” I mean only if you are a female. Sorry to stereotype. That’s the way it is.) to wallow in self-pity if you are not being shown a hopelessly romantic evening by the man of your fancy. Eff that, I say. And I’m not a fan of going out and getting wasted with my girlfriends to spite VD, because it think that’s still validating the significance of the Hallmark holiday.
• Don’t get all Freudian on me, but there is a personal reason, too. Years ago I dated a guy whose anniversary with me was Feb 10th. So I told him I’d do our anniversary celebration if he did VD. This was before I realized how completely inappropriate the holiday is. I went really big, so he went really big. Consequently I had the perfect VD, sort of by accident. And I’m ok with never having another VD because 1. it’s a completely useless and banal holiday, and 2. even if I didn’t loathe it and I actually wanted to celebrate it, it would never be better than VD2K5.

There are more reasons. Lots more. But those are the big ones. I’m not completely cynical and jaded on romance. Quite the opposite. I think a guy should do something VD-like on random occasions, not because he is supposed to, but because he understands it is healthy for the emotional well-being of his partner. So gentlemen, take notice. Down with Valentine’s Day, up with random affection to validate your woman’s presence in your life. Trust me. She’ll be WAY more stoked, and you’ll reap the benefits (if you know what I mean ::wink, wink::nudge, nudge::)

Materials (the guy, the place, any other variables):

• He’s a lawyer, but really he’s a comedian. Stay with me here: by day he practices law (I’m pretty sure it has to do with public defense, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t get to do much hands-on since he’s very junior…). By night he’s building up his comedy by doing gigs at local clubs.
• There’s a remarkable trademark cuisine in this City that you can get at a very touristy location. This is where we are going to have the noms of the City.

Procedures (omg what happened???): Oh yes, he’s funny, but not in a one-liner kind of way. Like he didn’t seem like he was just shooting off his material at me. He legitimately had great stories! Here’s a great one: he was working on a case where a guy was busted doing something relatively petty (like stealing or something), and his defense is that he was too hopped up on crystal meth to know any better. Great defense, guy! I do the story no justice. It’s like “oh you really had to be there.” Thanks Dr. Jane. That’s a great story. But take my word for it, he was cracking me up with his descriptions and his wit.

Anyway, about the Experiment. We met up in the tourist trap and promptly found a healthy dose of the delicious signature treat this delightful City has to offer. I tried to match pace with him on devouring the delectable deliciousness, and luckily he was just as famished and excited as me. So we put those bad boys down like *that.* We contemplated splitting a second one, but I felt uncomfortable with that because

1. I was already gluttonously full.
2. I doubt this guy had too much play in his past, but EW herpeSARSghonnashyplswineflu? Nothx.

Well it’s pretty cold this time of year pretty much everywhere but San Diego, including this City. So we walked along the tourist shops and stumbled on a wax museum. I’d never been, neither had he, so we were game to check it out. This was exciting to me because it’s what I’ve been waiting for on these Experiments: my first date that was NOT just food/ beverages.

These ladies are COLD. Mostly because they are made of paraffin.

The wax museum is pretty much what you’d expect: Wax people. Some of them were really good. Some were kinda dusty, which was freaky. Yes there was a Michael Jackson, god rest his soul. And the Subject had me take a picture of him with Freddy Kruger (which looked fantastically and freakishly real). Speaking of pictures, I think is the first guy who actually looked LESS attractive in real life than in person. What does this mean? It means there are guys out there who are capable of picking decent profile pictures! I never would have guessed.

Another great story to wrap it up: while we were communicating, I told him about how I was bored at work, and he told me he had to peace out of the office early to go do some investigating at a bar. For real. Someone he was defending got into a bar fight and he had to go check on something. My response? Suuuurrreeee. “Investigate.” That’s what the kids are calling it these days? And yes, his friend was meeting him there so they could take advantage of the perks of the job. Not too shabby!

Results (the good, the bad, and the ugly): I was surprised how much this Experiment changed my mood. When I got off work I had thought it was gonna suck since I was tired and – let’s be real – most of my experiments lately have been carbon copies. But this was kinda fun and refreshing!

Conclusion (overall rating): The food was, as ever, delicious. The company was decently entertaining, and the impromptu adventure into the wax museum was fun. Too bad he was so unfortunate looking. Not that I’m exceptionally shallow, but looks have to count for something, right? When there is no physical attraction it’s time to move along. All in all I give it a 7. That’s one of the best yet!

With that, I encourage to follow me on twitter (@dbeid) because it’s my new year’s resolution to actually start tweeting things. For real. Yo.

Happy 2010!

Materials (the guy, the place, any other variables):

•  He also works in the wine industry, like so many guys I seem to be matched with. He’s fluent in Spanish, as am I, and this is allegedly the first date he is going on since he signed up for HowAmITheOnlySinglePersonIKnow.com
• We’re going to a place around the corner from my house where a certain Ben Stiller movie was filmed. Or rather, one scene was filmed there…

Procedures (omg what happened???): Wow, I didn’t know someone could be that enamored with me after talking online a few times. I think he’s just a really passionate person, which I can relate to, but his excitement for me was a little overwhelming. Like, why are you all starry-eyed on the FIRST DATE? Can you calm down a bit please, cos you’re making me nervous… The tool was also uncomfortably awkward and optimistic, but not to this degree.

First, this Subject showed up dressed much nicer than I would have expected with – get this – a single red rose. WHO DOES THAT??? He insisted on impressing me with a really expensive wine (and by really expensive I mean $60 instead of the usual $30), then proceeded to all but grill me on my personal life, like it’s a job interview or something, but with a twinkle in his eye and a grin from ear to ear. It was like he was interviewing me to be his wife. SO STRANGE.

Let me take a break for a second and talk about the food, because I’m getting overwhelmed again just thinking about it. The food was marvelous. Everything was fresh and local, though I can say some of the flavors were a little overpowering. But the dessert (yes, he insisted that we share dessert and even tried to SPOON FEED ME. Who the hell do you think you are, sir?!) the dessert was heaven. I’ve never had a better cheesecake in my life. It was mascarpone, crustless and drizzled with caramel and sprinkled with candied walnuts. I fell in love that night, but it was not with the Subject. I will be going back to that restaurant EVERY TIME I want dessert from now on. Note it.

Oh, he asked me about other dates I’ve been on via HowAmINotMarriedYet.com. I ask you this, why would you EVER ask about previous dating experiences on a first date with someone, outside the “What’s the worst date you’ve ever been on” getting-to-know-you question?? (Which, BTW, is STILL kinda awkward.) And of course I couldn’t bust out my card and say Well actually my name is Dr. Jane and I conduct experiments with online dating by going out with anyone and everyone who asks, and then I write a blog about it. So I danced around most of his questions because I’m a terrible liar. I think he sensed I was uncomfortable talking about it, because he said “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by talking about it.” I assured him it was no big deal (lie) and that I’d only been on two dates before (lie) and that I think the whole online thing in general is abundantly awkward (truth).

This was the first guy who actually sort of awkwardly leaned in to kiss me. I’m not sure what made him think that was appropriate, since NONE of my body language indicated that such a gesture would be welcomed with anything but the backstep and hand in the face with which it was met. He of course apologized, but I’m hoping that put a hitch in his step towards the wedding aisle.

Results (the good, the bad, and the ugly): Ladies, this is what I was talking about when I said there are people who are online just to find someone to marry because they think it’s the right time/ the next step/ in fashion this season. He wants a wife, and he wants her yesterday. I know a few people I could set him up with, come to think of it… No, Dr. Jane! You are not a matchmaker. You are a dating experimenter. One profession at a time!

Conclusion (overall rating): The restaurant (especially that cheesecake!) immediately shoots this above the 5 rating. The rose is pretty and sitting in my living room next to my xmas tree, so that’s a point. I’d take away points because he was so emotionally aggressive and for the kiss attempt, but that wouldn’t be fair to the rose and the cheesecake. (Seriously, I had dreams about that cheesecake.) So We’ll call it a 5 and leave it at that.

- This terrifies me in ways I cannot describe. Let’s state the obvious just to get it out of the way:

1. I’m guessing the type of person who wants to partake in mouse-assisted interplay isn’t going to look like the models in these pictures.
2. THEY HAVE MICE CRAWLING ON THEM IN A BAR.

Now that the air is clear on those two points, there are still so very many things wrong with this concept. The design enough is disturbing enough to call it a day, but the metaphorical hooking up with physically hooking up your mouse tubes makes me uncomfortable in my tummy. So you like mice and mice breeding. That’s fine. I think that’s fun. To each his own. But to make it into a dating concept that you wear in public places takes healthy hobby to a creepy obsession. Then again, maybe if you’re freaky enough to invest in a wearable mouse socialization system, perhaps finding someone just as freaky is exactly what you need. Sort of like the Furries.

- My personal dating life still falls somewhere between disastrous and fantastic, depending on which person we’re talking about me dating. Suffice to say, I expect better things from 2010 than I had in 2009. I’m thinking the motto needs to be “2010: fall in love again.” But I’m reserving the standby, “2010: never gonna love again,” just in case. Don’t worry: I’m still insistent on my Experiments, and you need to start getting excited about the sheer quantity of distain I manage to muster for Valentines Day (or V-day/ VD, as  I prefer to call it).

- Once again, Meghan C. McBlogger has captivated everything I could possibly hope to say about a subject in this wonderful exposé on marriage. It simultaneously delights me and concerns me how much my life parallels hers, and that makes for a feeling that can only be cured/ enhanced with snuggy for your neck. I JOKE. That, too, terrifies me.

So check back tomorrow for lucky Experiment #13, and believe you me, it’s a doozy! As always, thanks for reading, and follow me on Twitter (@dbeid) for updates on upcoming dates!

Materials (the guy, the place, any other variables):

• Turns out he works in IT like 40% of the guys I meet in these Experiments. He lives VERY far away from me, but says he comes to my City all the time. He lies. He knows nothing of this place. But it’s cute that he pretends. Oh, and he looks nothing like his profile pic, which was definitely appreciated.
• I’ve been craving some Benihana, but the only one in the City is far, far away from where I want to go (even though he offered to come pick me up. GET REAL!), so I googled “hibatchi grill” and learned two things: there is no T in “hibachi,” and there is one a few blocks from my house. WIN.

Procedures (omg what happened???): Totally not my type, and totally not a hibachi grill, but surprisingly fun anyway. What I mean when I say hibachi grill is this:

What I got was this:

No that is not the ACTUAL restaurant. I ran an image search for “hole in the wall” and this matched what I was looking for quite nicely.

But we got to talking and there is nothing this man felt uncomfortable sharing with me. I mean, he wasn’t sharing his STD test results with me or anything, but I learned all about his dying uncle and his cousin in Iraq, which was a bit uncanny because I have a dying uncle and a cousin in Iraq. I just don’t usually bring these things up on Experiments because they’re kinda downer conversations, amirite?

Bu he’s been to Costa Rica like almost everyone else I’ve met, which means I just have to go. I have to! And he’s really into wine tasting, but not as much as this guy. I don’t know, I’m starting to feel like I’m dating the same guys over and over, which probably has a lot to do with the fact that I’ve been selected by my interests and personality to be compatible with them. I think I need to radically alter my profile, not to change who I am but to emphasize different qualities so I can meet new guys, rather than carbon copies of the same men.

Results (the good, the bad, and the ugly): He’s funny, but I can’t remember anything specific that had me laughing. Reminds me of that line in Ocean’s Eleven when Brad Pitt is coaching Matt Damon and he tells him “You need to be funny, but not too funny. He needs to like you, then forget you.” That on top of the weird comment before the date, I wonder if he’s some weird dating double agent. Cute how I’m paranoid that someone’s out to do the exact same thing I’m doing, huh?

Conclusion (overall rating): The food was pretty sub-par, especially when I was expecting an onion volcano and shrimp tails flicked into to the chef’s hat and pocket. But the date was forgettably fun, even if the guy was marginally awkward and uncomfortably endearing. I give it a 5.