What's Behind Door Number Three, Monty?

I discovered something important last night : the importance of not giving up too much information about yourself too quickly. There is definitely something to be said about having a certain air of mystique about you; about leaving a bit to the imagination; about letting someone get to know you a little a time, instead of all at once, and draw their own conclusions.

I had a date last night with the Hoover. It was…interesting…to say the least. When I got home and told Jane about it she was laughing so hard, she cried. First of all, he came to pick me up in a stretch limousine! It was the last thing I was expecting to see when I walked out my front door. (He is a limo driver, but still! Who does that?) Worse, there was no room in the front seat because he had all kinda papers and such up there, so I had to sit in the back! And I’m way back there trying to carry on a stilted conversation with him, slidin' around on the faux-leather seats all yelling up at him through the little window. Odd. And he took me to Tim Horton’s. In a limo. Except that it was 10 at night, so it was way too late for me to have a coffee. So then he decided to not to have one either. So we sat in the back of his limo in the Tim Horton’s parking lot and talked for 2 hours.

What the hell is wrong with men these days? What happened to the art of a good date? Dinner. Movie. Good conversation? And why did we drive all the way to Tim’s just to sit in the back seat? We could just have sat in the back out front of my condo. I’m missing Gray’s Anatomy for THIS? Maybe for Velentine's Day, he'll take me to the Starbuck's Parking Lot...

He then proceeded to tell me WAY too much about himself. And he laid all of his cards out on the table. Stop! It’s too much. Too soon! And basically what he had on offer was stunningly disappointing; I appreciate that he wanted to be honest and straight-up with me, but at the same time, I really wished he had scaled it back. All of his rambling and telling it to me straight did nothing except suck the romance and intrigue out of someone who I actually thought had quite a bit going for him. He managed to wipe all of it out in less than 2 hours. Basically, I feel like I was a contestant on a game show. And the last four months or so, I have been dealing with whatever was on offer behind door number 1. The problem being that I KNOW whatever is behind Door Number 3 is really what I truly want. Basically, this guy offered me Door Number 2. Still better than 1; not as good as 3. I guess I should be grateful to him for not wasting my time, but at the same time, I wish I could have been afforded the luxury of discovering things about him for myself, instead of just being told. I also know that people frequently misrepresent themselves. And for me, I would rather interpret his actions for myself and form my own opinions. I don’t know if that makes sense, but I came home feeling like I’d been ripped off; he made me feel like I didn’t deserve, nor would I ever get what was behind Door Number 3, so I should be happy with whatever I could get. No thanks, Howie. No deal. I'd rather risk it all and go home broke.