Date Night 1:
I met Heavy Metal Choo Choo outside the train station and we walked past all the places I was thinking we might go. He wanted cocktails and a patio. Sounded good to me. However, next thing I know we are in a dark sports bar, with 20 screens surrounding us while he drinks a black/tan and eats a fried chicken sandwich with extra mayo and fried potatoes. At this point he confesses a love for Big Macs and KFC while staring at the hockey playoff game on one screen and the baseball game on another. Please god, shoot me now. What part of me looks like a sports bar gal? My profile also says I am a foodie, with a food allergy… so, wtf man? How to make a great first impression: try taking your townie ass out of sneakers and a sports bar on a first date. IF you must watch a certain game, do NOT schedule a date that night.
So, the games end within a few minutes of each other and rather than relaxing from his agro cheering mode and actually acting like a date, he looks at my cup of decaf, asks if I am done and says he needs to head home because it is getting late and he has to get up at 5. HA HA HA. Yes, the only difference between a regular evening for him and this first date was that he was at a bar and I happened to be sitting across from him.
The next morning he sent me a text letting me know that he had a “lovely time” and was wondering if I would like to do it again sometime. Are you fucking kidding me? THAT was a “lovely time”? Pass.
Date Night 2: Uber Douche Bag
Yes, I was late. I took a nap, it threw me off. Then the dog refused to pee, which slowed me down AND I missed the bus I needed. I communicated the whole time via text message and said I felt horrible. He said it wasn’t a big deal, he was catching up on emails and to take my time. I finally get there and he seems attractive and nice. Then….
So, 10 minutes in he tells me that his unbalanced, slightly crazy friend, might swing by. Apparently he is in town from Europe and they have been trying to meet up and it might be the only night he can say hi. Okay, a friend is showing up on our first date. Hmm. I’ll cut him slack for it because it’s a friend from Europe that is only in town for a few more days. The friend arrives about 20 minutes later. Our food had arrived and we were drinking some wine, the friend seemed less crazy than he was presented as being. Quirky, yes. A certifiable crazy freak, no. Ten minutes into the friends arrival and they start talking about another friend of theirs, whom they then decide to invite out. Hmm, ok, so apparently I am now hanging with the boys. Oh, and I thought this man worked in finance but apparently he is a professor of biology at a local university. Now, BioProf has overstepped the lines of acceptable by making me a tag along on his night out with the boys. Suddenly he decides he wants to stand, after spending too much time smoking a cigarette outside. He abruptly decides to move us to the bar area and orders us new drinks. He’s already over there while his friend and I are grabbing our coats from the booth cushions. Hmm, hey BioProf douche bag, how about waiting for us before you pounce on the pussy you met outside. That was exactly what it was too. We looked over and saw him standing next to this woman and his friend made a comment to the effect of BioProf’s not so subtle hard on for the girl he met. Coincidentally, I had met the girl in the bathroom 15 minutes before and we had already bonded, which was an amusing surprise to him, when he tried to introduce us at the bar. The girl and I wandered off for some chatty gossip and then guess who happened by? the TURK. HA HA HA. He happened to walk by and then proceeded to chat us girls up, meanwhile BioProf caught a glimpse of him and walked over with a chip on his shoulder. He suddenly walks over and when I introduced them, BioProf starts calling him Mohammed and being quite offensive to him. In an attempt to make the Turk look like an insignificant tool, as he called him later, he just made himself look like a fear based aggressive dog who acts out towards things he sees as a threat, rather than being secure in his own energy and space. That is why he kept insulting his friends and dismissing them. he wanted them there so that he could make fun of them. That’s exhausting juvenile behavior for a 35-year-old ph’d professor.
When the Turk and the bar hottie walked away for a bit, he asked me if I was talking him up to her. I’m like, so, I am your wing man or your date? He said he doesn’t usually admit it on a date but that he was digging her. Really, no shit. Ha. He digs tight jeans and tank tops with tits. I’m not that girl. I also never was that girl in my dating side profile.
He isn’t getting the reaction he wants at the bar and doesn’t like that the Turk keeps coming over and saying hello and hugging me, even though he himself isn’t interested, apparently I am still off-limits for other men to speak to me, because he is buying my drinks. In the middle of our drinks he decides we are going to a different bar and walks out of the bar. We end up across the street at a different bar filled with a lot of young women looking for older men with money. He’s eyeing the crowd for hot women. YAWN. Boring. We grab a drink and then get yanked down to the lower level bar. He then runs into a guy he works with who is there with a girl and suddenly we sit down. I decide to leave as soon as he comes back from the latest cigarette because the train is coming soon and luckily I am right across the street from it at the moment. He is not worth spending the money on a cab to get home. The night was amusing, otherwise I would not have tagged along, but really, you must be kidding me. If you can’t make it through a date without scoping out a potential lay from someone else, don’t go on the date.
I said goodnight to everyone and planted a kiss on douche bag, just to see. Being as selfish and insecure and rude as he had been being, I had a feeling his kiss would suck. It did. I did, however, succeed in making him stop in his tracks and do a double take. I may not have large tits and wear tight jeans to get boys attention, but I kiss like a fucking rock star. So, there was a little taste of what you could have had, if you had played a better game, shit head.
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