Ok so I actually learned something on this experience. 1. Always trust your gut (not his beer gut, your own) 2. Don't fall for the sappy story, what happened in the past is not your fault. 3. Always have a back up plan or a way out of an awkward situation.
At this point I was still on Match trying to find that perfect combo of less than a boyfriend but more than a hook-up. I started talking to a guy in the winter via email. It was almost 2 actual months before we met. Mostly because he was a cry baby and did not drive in the winter. I know strike one. I swear I let there be 10 strikes on this one and that is my fault. In between me listening to him complain about the weather, I took a trip to New Orleans to celebrate my first single Christmas in 12 years. Cue the sappy story. When I returned I asked him how his xmas was and he said it was still rough since it was only 2 years since his wife died. I know, pull a little on the heartstrings. He asked if New Orleans was awesome to which I responded, "I thought so but my liver disagrees". Oopsies, his wife died of liver failure. Didn't know that til I put foot in mouth. Not sure why he continued to want to see me after that but he did. However that meant he would have to leave his house (where he lived with his mom - strike two) so I suggested I go see him play at one of his music gigs. He plays the guitar and I used to be a sucker for a musician. Thankfully he cured me of that. I made plans to have a wing girl go with. Louise was busy so I recruited a friend from work. I drove to a cool little place in Port Huron and got there half way thru his first set. His face looked the same although a little heavier but the rest of him was obscured by the set where he played on a stage set off by itself. After meeting him I do not know how he squeezed through the little opening on a small ladder. I know I am mean but he deserves it. He came by to say hello and tip number 3001 I learned is to talk to someone on the phone before meeting him. He sounded like a cross between Joe Guidice and Tommy DeVito. He was shorter with short arms that I am pretty sure did not reach around his enormous belly and had lots of hand gestures. UGH.
The first thing he says to me is that he had a jury summons and wanted to know if I would just excuse him. Now anyone who knows me knows that that is the worst. ever. statement to make to me. Um no. Fucker do you civic duty. So that was awkward but I thought that he was maybe just a little rusty with the dating thing considering his wife had passed away recently. So I brushed it off. Lesson 3002. He asked me to dinner the following weekend at his favorite place Mexican Village. I agreed, not realizing that it was because he did not want to put effort into driving by me, because he is lazy which is why he is 70 lbs over his pics on Match.
Anywhoos, I met him for dinner at Mexican Village. He suggested 7:45 on a Saturday which meant we had a horrendously long wait of awkward conversation while he sipped his margarita through a straw. Finally we were seated and the waiter came with chips and salsa...which he then pulled straight to him as if he would smack my hand if I tried to take one. Seriously, not making this up. Tip for first dinner dates, if you are so hungry you will not share your chips and salsa eat before the date just so you don't look like a pig.
We ordered and he proceeded to get the combo plate with an extra taco and another serving of chips and salsa. In fact he went through 3 dishes of chips and salsa that night, along with eating everything on his plate, burping and talking with his mouth full. His side of the conversation went like this. "I feel like I don't have to lie to you" "I live with my mom" I am not a manager but work in the electrical aisle at Lowe's" "You're so pretty"
Could not get out of there fast enough. Now I know most people are thinking aw so she had a bad first date, that is not that funny...I went on date two. Can't tell you why, I think I just didn't have anyone else on the back burner so maybe I figured why not. The next outing was supposed to be a group outing to see Les Zeppelin play (who by the way are fantabulous and everyone should go see them). Interestingly all of his friends "cancelled" at the last minute so it was just him and I.
Let me make this clear...he invited me. And then the night of, asked me to drive to his place because he did not want to add the extra 20 minutes to drive me home at the end of the night. Strike one million if you are keeping track. So I drove to his mom's house and met him. His house smelled like dirty dog and moth balls so already I was regretting agreeing to a second date. I pet his dog and then my hand smelled awful (and no that is not a euphemism). We got into his truck to make the longest drive to Ferndale known to man. Because he forgot how to get there. On the way he proceeded to lecture me on music, stating that he only listens to his 5,000 CD collection (which he offered to show me later) no radio and doesn't like anything after 1978. Um, ok. So as I awkwardly stare out the window the next sentence shocked me back to reality. He stated, "you don't cook do you." That was not even a question, just an accusation and is plain wrong. I told him I liked to cook. "Good", he says "you can invite me over for dinner and make me a steak." What???
I responded with as much patience as I could muster by explaining that a steak is not something I normally cook. To which he replied "what's so difficult, you just throw it on the grill and make me some potatoes with some gravy". Ok, first off he didn't need any more gravy he needed a plate of raw veggies and some time on the treadmill. Second which is what I told him was "um I live in an apartment we can't have a grill and again it is not something I would make". Because I think the rule should be that if you invite someone for dinner, the host chooses what to make and the guest accepts that.
We travel a few more miles and again he asks why I can't just make him a steak and potatoes and gravy. Finally I said "Because I am not a fucking restaurant, you don't get to order off a menu and you haven't earned an invitation yet." That did not stop him That was not even a hint. That was a back the fuck off you crazy freak.
By this time we had made it to Ferndale. I was happy to know that my friend's dad was planning on being there and I could get away for a few if I needed a break. As he drove around to find a parking spot that he didn't have to pay for, I pointed out that perhaps he could let me out or at least try to find a meter closer. After complaining (his number one hobby) he found a spot across the boulevard from the event. He then proceeded to inform me that he has no change. So I paid for the parking and got out just dreaming of a large vodka with the smallest splash of soda ever. He then is so lazy he wants me to cross through six inches of snow in high heel boots and jeans. I stated that I was fine to walk the extra block. It was not that cold and the sidewalks had salt and I am a bit clumsy (see previous post with flip flops and you can imagine my want to try to stay on even keeled ground in high heels). Because he keeps trying to convince me I tell him he can walk there and I will meet him at the door. I think he was afraid I would call a cab and ditch him which, to be honest, I contemplated.
Then he says "I know, you can make me a stir fry." Again with the fucking cooking. I said no, again it is not what I would make. He says " come on it is not that hard, you just put some chicken and vegetables in a wok, and fry it". I know how to make it dummy, I just don't. I take a deep breath and tell him that I don't own a wok. His response "I will buy you a wok". Now I have used my last bit of patience and say "then buy your self a wok and make your own fucking stir fry" Again it seems like this should be the end of the story but it's not.
I thought he took the hint so now I just need to get into the club and find my wing dad (love you papa Russ). We stand in line at the door and I hear the bouncer say it is $20 for cover and then I hear Fatty McFat Face say "aww man". Seriously wtf??? So I pay my own way in and immediately walk to the bar to order a bottle of vodka and a straw. He follows saying he was sorry and meant to pay my cover but thought it was only $10. So this cheap fat mother fucker brought only $20 in cash on a date. Good to know. So he says he owes me a drink as if I was going to carry our tab if he paid the cover...which is not how it goes when you are asked on a specific date. You pay for me!
Oh and for my sister, the one and thankfully perfect timing of having a "big one" on me:)
He has to find a card that he can use and is told that there is a minimum of $15. I order a double just because now I need it. We head down to the front and I am continually looking for someone I know to save me. As we are standing waiting for the band he says, "I got it. I know exactly what you can make me!" No mom, I did not punch him in the face even though I really really wanted to. "Tacos, it's my favorite food". I knew that because I watched him scarf down a million in between chips and salsa. I finally lost all my patience and said "you need to stop with the cooking because it is really pissing me off." He looked at me like I had grown a third eye in the last 30 minutes and could not understand why I was angry.
I decided it was time for a reconnaissance for Papa Russ. I politely excuse myself to the bathroom, suck down the rest of my drink and stop at the bar for a refill...on his tab of course cuz now he kinda owes me at least $20 for this debacle of a date. Thankfully I find my friend's dad and explain the sitch to him. He lives by me and offers to give me a ride home if I need it so I don't have to hang out with him. Not even sure the sentence was complete before I accepted. I finished my second cocktail just to settle my nerves, walked up to my "date" and tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned around I told him "I'm sorry but this is just not working for me. So I am going to hang out with my friends and catch a ride home with them"
End of date. But there is more. He then had to serve jury duty. Yup that is my luck. Months later he came into and did his civic duty and we had to have another awkward convo when he checked in. He had gained even more winter weight so I refused to point him out to my co-workers. People I am usually not that shallow but he just was awful. And so was I for agreeing to more than one date.
That however is not the end of the story of the evening. While hanging out with Papa Russ, I noticed a very cute guy standing off to the side. We started talking and he asked for my number. Well he put his number in my phone. As it turns out he is 27 while I was 40 (now the dreaded 41). More on the Middle School guy later. Moral of the story is that even when you are on a bad date, you never know how the evening will end. However, it is always better with a drink.
At this point I was still on Match trying to find that perfect combo of less than a boyfriend but more than a hook-up. I started talking to a guy in the winter via email. It was almost 2 actual months before we met. Mostly because he was a cry baby and did not drive in the winter. I know strike one. I swear I let there be 10 strikes on this one and that is my fault. In between me listening to him complain about the weather, I took a trip to New Orleans to celebrate my first single Christmas in 12 years. Cue the sappy story. When I returned I asked him how his xmas was and he said it was still rough since it was only 2 years since his wife died. I know, pull a little on the heartstrings. He asked if New Orleans was awesome to which I responded, "I thought so but my liver disagrees". Oopsies, his wife died of liver failure. Didn't know that til I put foot in mouth. Not sure why he continued to want to see me after that but he did. However that meant he would have to leave his house (where he lived with his mom - strike two) so I suggested I go see him play at one of his music gigs. He plays the guitar and I used to be a sucker for a musician. Thankfully he cured me of that. I made plans to have a wing girl go with. Louise was busy so I recruited a friend from work. I drove to a cool little place in Port Huron and got there half way thru his first set. His face looked the same although a little heavier but the rest of him was obscured by the set where he played on a stage set off by itself. After meeting him I do not know how he squeezed through the little opening on a small ladder. I know I am mean but he deserves it. He came by to say hello and tip number 3001 I learned is to talk to someone on the phone before meeting him. He sounded like a cross between Joe Guidice and Tommy DeVito. He was shorter with short arms that I am pretty sure did not reach around his enormous belly and had lots of hand gestures. UGH.
The first thing he says to me is that he had a jury summons and wanted to know if I would just excuse him. Now anyone who knows me knows that that is the worst. ever. statement to make to me. Um no. Fucker do you civic duty. So that was awkward but I thought that he was maybe just a little rusty with the dating thing considering his wife had passed away recently. So I brushed it off. Lesson 3002. He asked me to dinner the following weekend at his favorite place Mexican Village. I agreed, not realizing that it was because he did not want to put effort into driving by me, because he is lazy which is why he is 70 lbs over his pics on Match.
Anywhoos, I met him for dinner at Mexican Village. He suggested 7:45 on a Saturday which meant we had a horrendously long wait of awkward conversation while he sipped his margarita through a straw. Finally we were seated and the waiter came with chips and salsa...which he then pulled straight to him as if he would smack my hand if I tried to take one. Seriously, not making this up. Tip for first dinner dates, if you are so hungry you will not share your chips and salsa eat before the date just so you don't look like a pig.
We ordered and he proceeded to get the combo plate with an extra taco and another serving of chips and salsa. In fact he went through 3 dishes of chips and salsa that night, along with eating everything on his plate, burping and talking with his mouth full. His side of the conversation went like this. "I feel like I don't have to lie to you" "I live with my mom" I am not a manager but work in the electrical aisle at Lowe's" "You're so pretty"
Could not get out of there fast enough. Now I know most people are thinking aw so she had a bad first date, that is not that funny...I went on date two. Can't tell you why, I think I just didn't have anyone else on the back burner so maybe I figured why not. The next outing was supposed to be a group outing to see Les Zeppelin play (who by the way are fantabulous and everyone should go see them). Interestingly all of his friends "cancelled" at the last minute so it was just him and I.
Let me make this clear...he invited me. And then the night of, asked me to drive to his place because he did not want to add the extra 20 minutes to drive me home at the end of the night. Strike one million if you are keeping track. So I drove to his mom's house and met him. His house smelled like dirty dog and moth balls so already I was regretting agreeing to a second date. I pet his dog and then my hand smelled awful (and no that is not a euphemism). We got into his truck to make the longest drive to Ferndale known to man. Because he forgot how to get there. On the way he proceeded to lecture me on music, stating that he only listens to his 5,000 CD collection (which he offered to show me later) no radio and doesn't like anything after 1978. Um, ok. So as I awkwardly stare out the window the next sentence shocked me back to reality. He stated, "you don't cook do you." That was not even a question, just an accusation and is plain wrong. I told him I liked to cook. "Good", he says "you can invite me over for dinner and make me a steak." What???
I responded with as much patience as I could muster by explaining that a steak is not something I normally cook. To which he replied "what's so difficult, you just throw it on the grill and make me some potatoes with some gravy". Ok, first off he didn't need any more gravy he needed a plate of raw veggies and some time on the treadmill. Second which is what I told him was "um I live in an apartment we can't have a grill and again it is not something I would make". Because I think the rule should be that if you invite someone for dinner, the host chooses what to make and the guest accepts that.
We travel a few more miles and again he asks why I can't just make him a steak and potatoes and gravy. Finally I said "Because I am not a fucking restaurant, you don't get to order off a menu and you haven't earned an invitation yet." That did not stop him That was not even a hint. That was a back the fuck off you crazy freak.
By this time we had made it to Ferndale. I was happy to know that my friend's dad was planning on being there and I could get away for a few if I needed a break. As he drove around to find a parking spot that he didn't have to pay for, I pointed out that perhaps he could let me out or at least try to find a meter closer. After complaining (his number one hobby) he found a spot across the boulevard from the event. He then proceeded to inform me that he has no change. So I paid for the parking and got out just dreaming of a large vodka with the smallest splash of soda ever. He then is so lazy he wants me to cross through six inches of snow in high heel boots and jeans. I stated that I was fine to walk the extra block. It was not that cold and the sidewalks had salt and I am a bit clumsy (see previous post with flip flops and you can imagine my want to try to stay on even keeled ground in high heels). Because he keeps trying to convince me I tell him he can walk there and I will meet him at the door. I think he was afraid I would call a cab and ditch him which, to be honest, I contemplated.
Then he says "I know, you can make me a stir fry." Again with the fucking cooking. I said no, again it is not what I would make. He says " come on it is not that hard, you just put some chicken and vegetables in a wok, and fry it". I know how to make it dummy, I just don't. I take a deep breath and tell him that I don't own a wok. His response "I will buy you a wok". Now I have used my last bit of patience and say "then buy your self a wok and make your own fucking stir fry" Again it seems like this should be the end of the story but it's not.
I thought he took the hint so now I just need to get into the club and find my wing dad (love you papa Russ). We stand in line at the door and I hear the bouncer say it is $20 for cover and then I hear Fatty McFat Face say "aww man". Seriously wtf??? So I pay my own way in and immediately walk to the bar to order a bottle of vodka and a straw. He follows saying he was sorry and meant to pay my cover but thought it was only $10. So this cheap fat mother fucker brought only $20 in cash on a date. Good to know. So he says he owes me a drink as if I was going to carry our tab if he paid the cover...which is not how it goes when you are asked on a specific date. You pay for me!
Oh and for my sister, the one and thankfully perfect timing of having a "big one" on me:)
He has to find a card that he can use and is told that there is a minimum of $15. I order a double just because now I need it. We head down to the front and I am continually looking for someone I know to save me. As we are standing waiting for the band he says, "I got it. I know exactly what you can make me!" No mom, I did not punch him in the face even though I really really wanted to. "Tacos, it's my favorite food". I knew that because I watched him scarf down a million in between chips and salsa. I finally lost all my patience and said "you need to stop with the cooking because it is really pissing me off." He looked at me like I had grown a third eye in the last 30 minutes and could not understand why I was angry.
I decided it was time for a reconnaissance for Papa Russ. I politely excuse myself to the bathroom, suck down the rest of my drink and stop at the bar for a refill...on his tab of course cuz now he kinda owes me at least $20 for this debacle of a date. Thankfully I find my friend's dad and explain the sitch to him. He lives by me and offers to give me a ride home if I need it so I don't have to hang out with him. Not even sure the sentence was complete before I accepted. I finished my second cocktail just to settle my nerves, walked up to my "date" and tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned around I told him "I'm sorry but this is just not working for me. So I am going to hang out with my friends and catch a ride home with them"
End of date. But there is more. He then had to serve jury duty. Yup that is my luck. Months later he came into and did his civic duty and we had to have another awkward convo when he checked in. He had gained even more winter weight so I refused to point him out to my co-workers. People I am usually not that shallow but he just was awful. And so was I for agreeing to more than one date.
That however is not the end of the story of the evening. While hanging out with Papa Russ, I noticed a very cute guy standing off to the side. We started talking and he asked for my number. Well he put his number in my phone. As it turns out he is 27 while I was 40 (now the dreaded 41). More on the Middle School guy later. Moral of the story is that even when you are on a bad date, you never know how the evening will end. However, it is always better with a drink.