Today's tale is of a date of the bad variety. Honestly? The really bad variety. And I once had a date literally walk out on me during a lunch date. (It was a second date. He was peeved that I'd selected a 2nd lunch date and not delved into evening dining with him. I thought I was giving a chance to a guy who'd seemed nice enough, who hadn't made the optimal impression on me in the first date a do-over, and that he should be grateful that I was granting him the opportunity. [cocky much?] He hadn't been a dick on the 1st date, just somewhat awkward, as some folks are around people they're just getting to know. By the time Lunchgate II Electric Boogaloo became a real, 'two lunches? That's not moving a relationship forward' (??) thing for him, I was starting to sense that my magnanimous acceptance for a 2nd date at all, was a big fuckin' mistake. A faux pas that became pretty crystal clear by the time our meals arrived. By then he had turned into a dick. But you don't have to take my word for it. When the server brought the bill--
...Sooo, when I say I know a lil' sumthin'-sumthin' about a bad date, I'm not just talkin' smack.
Come on. Really?
I pick a (local) place. I pick him up because I'd never be at the mercy of some strangers whims of my transportation. (Copkid rule #14) Dinner was fine. As I mentioned to a friend, "at no point did I have to resist the urge to lunge across the table at him with my fork," but I had already decided that there would be no second date. Now as I mentioned earlier I am a
We arrived at some lil' spot directly on the way to return him, we each ordered. Again, things were fine at first. Actually until I was about 1/2 through my beer, which is when things started to go adrift. And by 'adrift', I mean, batshit crazy.
Now kids, I do more stuff than I think people notice, super deliberately. It was not happenstance that we found ourselves sitting at the bar (as opposed to a table/booth) so that I could face the bar directly (straight on) and not give him the impression that I was into him by body language tells (like turning legs/body towards someone indicating interest). So we're chatting and my head is ever so slightly turning his direction from time to appropriate time. Regular minutiae. Then he asks me if I want kids. I donno about you, but that's not my idea of first date chatter, but whateves... Then he asks me about my beliefs on abortion. ABORTION. For those of you who don't know me, I'm not one to start stirrin' the pot by bringing the subject up with folks unsolicited or not in context to what's already being discussed, but I'm also not one to shy away from answering most direct questions with a direct answer. So I answer. (blah, blah, fuckidy blah, if you really wanna know my stance click here [Open Letter to JS])
Suffice it to say, his views and mine did not sync up. While I'm only 1/2 through my first beer, he's already ordered a second round (which beer #2 is now sitting in front of me) so now I'm starting to do the math.
He is horrible
+ I am Catholic, therefore do not believe in wasting alcohol
= I've gotta start fuckin' chuggin'
(Actual post-date status update: "I'm having trouble remembering the last time I was so happy to be home from a date. As I started my second beer, I wondered the appropriateness of shotgunnin' it so that I could wrap it up sooner. ...And how I could shotgun a bottle.")
Mercifully, he wandered off in search of the men's room, which is when I qualified for the 2013 Worldwide Beer Chug finals. When he returned I was mere nanoseconds from having completed my remaining 1 1/2 beers he sat down and completely turned towards me, which is when I discovered he had very bad breath. Before the words, "well, looks like it's that time..." could form in my mouth, he asked me if I am, the quote PMS-y sort of girl unfuckingquote.
I thought answering his PMS question by looking him in the eye for a silent moment and asking him, "did you just ask me if I'm the PMS-ys sort?" (Him: Yes. [slightly less maniacal chuckle than what it sounds like in my head now] Me: [up nod] Alright. [followed by silence and the Official BBG Reeeally? look]) would signify that this had come to a conclusion. A poor one. Right?
Nope. After a pretty quite, and thankfully, quick ride to drop him off as he was exiting the BBGmobile he offered up that he'd be available for a second date the following week. I said that I had a lot of things going on requiring my attention and that that might not be a possibility. Question: Is there any plane of reality where that reply isn't understood to be nice-speak for, 'fuck no'? Apparently it wasn't translated by my date because he then asked if he could have a kiss. Now honestly, I just want this whole experience to be finished before I
How do I know? Well, BigBrownGirlWorld
Huh? I did everything but chew my own fuckin' arm off to flee your presence and you think there might be a possibility that I do want to see you again?
I resisted my immediate urge to respond with, 'Really?' by realizing that would likely open up a can of back and forth worms that frankly I didn't want any part of. He had already stolen 90 minutes I'm never getting back. Plus, contrary to popular belief, I sincerely do try to not be a bitch. So I exercised the option of coolin' my fuckin' jets before replying. (Gold star, me!) A plan that was quite successful. ...For the first couple of hours. Then I spied a call coming in from him, that I ignored. Once again I attempt to high road it-- actually I gave him credit by thinking to myself, he's probably butt dialed. Moving on. Serenity now, etc. About an hour later I received a second call from him. Nope. That doesn't seem desperate/crazy at all.
For Clarification: I swear to you, it's far more about me trying to keep control of myself and my words/actions than me ignoring or torturing this guy. I know me. I am nice. I want to be nice. And I know that when I'm not nice, it's not, 'oh, that's not very nice' --it's 'oh, now that fuckin' chick knows how to be a bitch!' I know there's not much gradual progression from, I might have to kick that guy in the balls to ...and I will have a good Shiraz with 'em once I've cut them [balls] off and eat them, with me.
...So I do try to keep myself in check about gettin' testy (pun not intended, but tee-hee-able nonetheless) as best, and when I can.
I willfully choose to ignore this call too in lieu of addressing it the next day, hopefully in a
I came up with [text]: I apologize for the delay in reply. No we will not be dating. I wish you the best of luck with your search.
Given what had actually gone down, could this really be surprising info to this guy??
Wow?? ...Didja honestly think that went well?