The Roster

October 6, 2024

I was chatting with a girl at work about my dating shenanigans, and she told me I need to get myself a roster. Now, if you’re not hip and don’t know what a roster is in dating – same, girl. Or at least I didn’t until I looked it up on Google.

My understanding is that a roster is like a line-up for a baseball team where you have multiple people you are dating at one time. Her reasoning behind this advice was that if one guy ghosts you or hurts your feelings, you can sub in someone else from your roster and go on a date with them. That way, you can’t spend too much time mourning one person when you have another date lined up soon after. Which is really fair advice, because I’ve gotten into a real cycle of sadness with one man after another blowing me off for better options, and it takes me longer than I’d like to admit to recover from the rejection.

The roster is the opposite of the way I date. I have always been a one-man-at-a-time dater, even in the “talking” phase where you’re just texting and planning to meet up. Part of this is because it feels like the right thing to do…or at least, it seems like I would be treating the men I’m trying to build relationships with the way I want to be treated and giving them all of the energy and attention I have allocated for dating. Also, having multiple conversations going at once is incredibly confusing. Have I told this one I went to France yet? Is this the one who has a dog, or is this the one who has the pet snake? What was his sister’s name? It seems to be so challenging and exhausting. I got cheated on once, and I just remember being so in awe that this man had the time and energy to keep TWO whole relationships going. All that texting and going out and making up lies to stick to – how do you make time to watch Sister Wives in your pajamas?

But honestly, my dating life has felt even shittier than usual lately. I’m getting older and the dating pool feels like it is getting smaller and smaller. I had a couple dates with a friend’s co-worker a couple months ago, and I really like the guy and thought that I was at least safe from some of the normal bad behavior that comes with dating complete strangers – like, who would ghost their co-worker’s friend? But he did ghost me, and I took it hard, It feels like I’m at the point where I don’t even feel excited about good dates anymore because the other shoe will always drop. It’s been just about 3 years of Cathy-comic-style single-ness, and I haven’t had a third date with a man since…last October? Am I even on the clearance rack anymore? Or am I on the way back to the warehouse to be recycled to make an ugly neon purse or something? It feels pathetic.

Anyway, my friend told me to try out the roster, so I did it. You know, for science. I planned a whole weekend of dates – one for every chunk of a weekend that I wasn’t planning to be with my friends. I scheduled Friday night drinks at Jimmy’s with Jared, Saturday taco lunch with Maximilian, and Sunday lunch in Leesburg with Killian. Here’s how my experiment went.

Friday night with Jared: Jared had a very nice mustache. Not my usually type in terms of looks, but he seemed really funny. We sent voice memos back and forth for about a week about smoke detectors and pork chops and other random bullshit. I was on the phone on Thursday night, and took a little longer than usual to respond to one of his texts. He sent me an annoyed message saying “Are we still on for tomorrow or what?” and I told him yes and that I was looking forward to it. Friday night, I rushed home from work to take my shower and get ready. At 5:55 pm, approximately an hour and 5 minutes before we were supposed to meet, he texted me to tell me he had to work late and “unfortunately” couldn’t make it.

Saturday tacos with Maximilian: Max is a cutie patootie who seemed really nice over text. We had it all planned out to have tacos at Señor Ramon’s and then go get beer at the brewery next door – pretty much my perfect outing. On Friday, he texted me letting me know that he wasn’t feeling well at all, but he was planning to try to rally for Saturday. Saturday came and he still felt like shit, so he told me he would reschedule. That didn’t happen.

Sunday lunch with Killian: This guy is cute as hell. I got a message from him on Saturday asking “what’s your policy on rescheduling?” where he claimed that work was just insane. I told him it was okay and he said we would get together this weekend. That didn’t happen.

Woof. Three up, three down. Two days later, Evan cancelled our Tuesday night margarita night and I started to think that this is really the end for me. The days of men putting on pants and driving 15 minutes to meet me for a drink are over. I’m 34 now (imagine I said that in the voice of Jessica from Season 1 of Love is Blind), all washed up and basically a really awful job that men feel they need to call in sick to. I’ve had a few single girlfriends who have recently met men who seem to have long term potential, and instead of being happy for them like the nice human I want to be, I just use their example to reinforce this narrative I have in my head that I’m doing something wrong or not worth the effort to put on pants. It breeds resentment and self-loathing and depression. It’s fall and beautiful outside, and I’d give my left arm to have someone to go pick apples with or some other cliche fall shit. And I’m going to blink and it will be Christmas, and if I don’t get out of this funk, I’ll spend my holidays focusing on everything I don’t have instead of everything I do have.

I know the answer is to put myself at the top of the line up, followed by family and friends and all the people who want to spend time with me – even if it requires putting on pants and leaving the house. Today my friend told me that what her boyfriend wants for his birthday is to go apple picking with me and her. I literally burst into tears. The dichotomy is so striking – strangers who can’t be bothered to see me, vs best friends who WANT TIME WITH ME AS THEIR BIRTHDAY GIFT. We did an outing like this last year, and I spent most of that beautiful fall day staring at my phone wondering if the man I was dating was going to show up at a brewery to meet my friends like he said he would. He didn’t because he was hung over, and then he dumped me for another woman the following weekend. I spent that weekend in bed mourning the loss of…well, in hindsight, a jerk who didn’t show up for me. How many moments did I miss or half-way enjoy with my friends because I was worried to death over this man? I don’t know how to fix my mindset, but I’ll tell you one thing. I’m going apple picking with my friends who love me, and I’m turning off my phone that day. Because the important people are going to be at the top of my line-up from now on, and the rest of these scrubs can sit on the bench. Which is good, because that’s where they want to be anyway. On the bench without any pants on.