Yes, That Would Happen to ME at a Singing Lesson...

Well, I didn't really DATE a singing teacher, but I did go see one once, and being that this is a blog about funny, awkward dates and encounters, I feel the need to share this story.

My best friend from University, we'll call her Miss Martini,  and I were living together when she started singing lessons. She and I both have a terrible fear of singing solo in public, and though our reasons are different, the result is the same: neither of us will do it. Being that we were striving actresses, we both felt we should put our fears aside and at least try singing lessons.

Miss Martini found a singing teacher with whom she felt very comfortable. We had both had voice lessons in University for speech and breathing techniques and this new singing teacher's style of instruction was much the same as our previous voice instructors. After a few weeks of her coming home to rave about how great these lessons were going, I decided to see if he would take me on as a student as well.

On the night of my first lesson, I was very nervous. When I got there, I was a little early, so I waited outside. When the instructor came to get me, he introduced himself and took me down to his studio. I use "studio" loosely here because it was a tiny room in a basement with a keyboard and more musical "stuff" than you could ever imagine would fit into that space. I was a little sketched out, but being that Miss Martini had come here for her lessons, I decided to put any thoughts of dirt, dampness and mildew out of my mind.

The lesson began as expected: he verbalized his resume in order to prove that he has some semblance of credibility and asked a few short questions about my singing history. Somehow in the conversation it came up that he is divorced (hence the basement) and 40 (he essentially made me guess his age- I guessed MUCH younger when he said he looks young for his age). When it was time to stand up and start the actual lesson, it again, went much as expected. I was still nervous and felt like I wanted to melt away into the 30-year-old rug beneath my feet, but I stood my ground, determined to make it through the lesson.

We started with breathing exercises; how to stand, where the breath should be in the body, how to exhale properly in singing- the basics really. It was somewhat hands-on, as he had me put my hands on his ribs to feel the breath and then did the same to check my breathing. Because of University, I was comfortable as often our instructors at school would come and fix your posture, or use students to demonstrate different things, so when this turned out to be his way of instruction, I accepted it. Being that I was so nervous and distracted, I didn't notice something that I usually pick up on right away. And then I saw it: a look. He looked away quickly and kept on going with the lesson, and for a split second I second-guessed if I saw what I thought I saw. No, I couldn't have, focus on your breath and stop being crazy. And then he kissed me. Out of nowhere, he pulled me in and kissed me. I was so in shock that I didn't stop it, I don't even think my brain registered what was actually happening for about 3 seconds and by that time, his hands were up and down my back and going into my hair. WHAT?! I pushed him away (which was somewhat difficult given how tightly he was squeezing me into him and when he saw the look on my face he was horrified. Clearly whatever he was feeling that gave him the urge to kiss me was NOT what I was feeling.

He began apologizing profusely and begged me not to leave. He promised he would behave and told me that "If I saw you in a coffee shop, I would definitely come and talk to you" and I'm thinking "Yes, but if you met me in a coffee shop, your tongue wouldn't be down my throat less then half an hour after meeting me!"

It was probably the most horrifyingly awkward kiss I've ever had in my life and the half hour after it was probably worse. At first he couldn't take his eyes off me, and now he couldn't even look at me. His promises to behave and his apology made me stay, and because I had never had the displeasure of having a encounter like this before, I wasn't really sure what the protocol was for this type of situation. Needless to say, I went from nervous and uncomfortable downright confused and nauseous. We finished the lesson, skipping the rest of the breathing stuff and going straight to the keyboard, but even then, it was agonizingly difficult to relax into singing knowing he's sitting beside me wanting to do that again, and feeling embarrassment radiate from him. 

The end of the lesson came and I couldn't have been happier. He asked if I would come back and I really wasn't sure. Everything had been fine up until he kissed me, but I can't ignore how extremely inappropriate it was of him to do that. I gave him money, and felt a little like I was paying for services I hadn't asked for. I call it my "Pretty Woman" moment, but I was Richard Gere and he was the prostitute who went "above and beyond" the call of duty.

Outside, I ran into Miss Martini. When she saw the look on my face she asked if everything was okay...

"I don't know."
"Well, how did it go?"
"I don't know."
"What.. what happened?"
"I don't know, he kissed me. I don't know."
"HE DID WHAT?"
"Ya, I don't know. You may need to give him a minute. K, I'll see you at home. Byyyye."

I took off out of there like a bat out of hell and practically ran home.

Back at home, she told me that he did indeed "need a minute" and then, after telling her the full story of what happened, she said to me:

"That's interesting. Really. Really interesting. You know who else would probably want to hear that story?"
"Who?"
"His girlfriend. And his two children."

I May Be Extraodinary, But My Dates Certainly Aren't

I went on a date once with a man that was so ordinary, mild-mannered and simple that I actually felt sorry for him. I had agreed to go on the date with him when a friend of mine encouraged me saying: "He's a nice guy. You need to date a nice guy."

It turns out, I don't think I need to date a "nice" guy. I need to date a man who doesn't need to "strap on a pair" because they're already firmly in place!

The date itself was okay. Dinner at an italian restaurant and then he walked me home. He had planned it too- he had come downtown and looked around for places he'd like to take me, and then chose a few and let me pick from them. He was nervous and shy, but the conversation was light and flowed nicely.

The only problem was: he didn't do it for me. I didn't get any hopeful feelings that he'd kiss me at the end of the night, or that he'd hold my hand. I wasn't feeling light-hearted, and like I wanted him to call again. I felt the same as if I had gone out with my brother or one-of-the-guys. I think I intimidated him too...

Harsh as this may sound: Guys, you need to be phenomenal. As superficial as it may be, women are seriously attracted to things that sparkle and shine. BE THAT SPARKLY, SHINEY thing! I don't mean that in the way that you should dress up and physically have sparkles on you (we don't want someone shinier than we are) but you need to draw our attention. You need to stand out from the crowd, and when you're with a woman in a crowd, you need to show that you're PROUD TO BE WITH HER in that crowd  (but never ever act like she's your property.. I know, it's hard to find the balance, but please, please, for the love of dating, find it.)

Needless to say, this man called me again, but I just couldn't bring myself to give him a second date. Good luck Ordinary! You'll find someone who doesn't far out-shine you someday!

NOTA BENE: I'd like to add a disclaimer on my statement that men should be the sparkly thing we're looking at: Not all women want the same kind of sparkle in their man, and men need to know what their date wants them to be. If you're not that thing, maybe you're just not meant to be anyway. Just because Tiffany's if full of diamonds, doesn't mean you need to wear all your Tiffany at once- find the pieces that compliment each other.

True Story:

I dated a snob.