As some of you know,before this past Tuesday, I hadn’t been on an actual date for roughly 6 years. I think the last time I went on anything remotely resembling a date was back in 2009, when Phil tried to hoodwink me into sleeping with him again (oh, Phil is the guy who took me to that hotel room in Queens that time, and bit my ass while I was dancing for him in said hotel room- yeah, I did that. And he thought meeting up with me at a bar was what I meant when I said “wine and dine” me). Of course by the time Phil got around to calling me and asking me to meet up with him, I was months into my 1st year of self imposed celibacy. I only agreed to meet up with him because I wanted to see his face when I told him I wasn’t going to let him anywhere near or IN my body. The satisfaction I felt at his disappointment was worth the 45 minutes it took me to get ready that evening, and the additional 40 minutes it took me to travel downtown.
Okay, so my point: it having been so long since I went out on an actual bonafide date, I had really low expectations. I just wanted the guy to be nice, non creepy, and pay for the meal without expecting me to also chip in (and yes, I’ve had men argue with me that because it’s the modern age, and most women are independent, they shouldn’t have to pay for the dinner they asked me to have with them. And yes, I was still expected to sleep with them at the end of the night, simply because they asked). So again, I just really needed the guy to meet my basic criteria. And boy did he…in fact, ALL he did was meet the basic criteria. This man had zero personality. Very nice, and very polite, but I can’t even express what little chemistry there was between us. Actually, that isn’t true. Have you ever experienced being in a sensory deprivation tank? No? Then go out with this guy. Not to toot my own horn, but I seriously carried that entire date for as long as I could manage. I asked him about his work, what he did for fun, his family and growing up in Albuquerque, what made him choose the restaurant we were in (Max Brenner’s is the SHIT by the way, and I’m going back without him, obviously). I even went so far as to ask him about past relationships: what was his longest one, why did it end, whatever happened to that girl he married to get her papers into the country…The most interesting things about him were his answers to some of those questions.
For instance, he was actually still married. He was going on a year with his immigrant wife, but their marriage was never consummated, so I didn’t have anything to worry about. No, this wasn’t an inner dialogue. He actually said THAT. “We never slept together. It was never consummated, so you don’t have to worry about that. Hopefully in another year, all the paperwork will be settled, and we can part ways. That’s not going to be a problem, is it?” I hadn’t yet finished the Most Amazing White Russian I’d Ever Had, so I was honest when I replied, “Well, you’ll at least get to keep me here until I finish my drink. Which is uber delicious. Keep talking.” And he did, and here are a few gems that came out of his mouth:
1. His longest relationship ever was 9 months. (Problem: How are you a 44 year old man, and you’ve never been with anyone past a year? HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE??) And before you ask, YES, I did say that to him. He didn’t have an answer except to Kanye-Shrug. He didn’t bother to ask me the same in return, but I provided the information anyway. He was utterly uninterested in my 7 Year Confession.
2. Although he was pretty dumb for marrying this chick, she was totally stupid and had no idea what she was doing with herself or her life. (His words, not mine). She did tons of things that made no sense and all the money that she spends on shopping, she could be spending on stuff at her apartment now that her roommate has moved out. In fact, she really needed to stop calling him for money, and needed to stop pushing this idea of buying a condo together because his credit was for shit. (Problem: WHY ARE YOU EVEN MENTIONING YOUR WIFE WHEN YOU LIED ABOUT BEING DIVORCED OVER THE PHONE? AND WHY ARE YOU BAD MOUTHING ANOTHER WOMAN IN FRONT OF YOUR DATE).
3. He wasn’t rushing me or anything, but did I really want another drink? (Problem: Do I even need to write an explanation for this…).
I mean, the food was great. And free. And the chocolate cake he made us share (and please note, he kept it on HIS side of the table) was excellent . I really wanted my own desert, but hey, I wasn’t paying so I didn’t complain. And no, he didn’t have any other questions for me. He felt that since we covered so much over the phone, he didn’t have much more to say to me. So, he asked for the check, and we headed over to the next part of our date- Forbidden Planet.
For those of you who don’t know what that is, it’s a comic book store. Most of my friends are either gamers, former gamers, comic lovers, former comic lovers, or graphic designers for that world (as this guy also happened to be. And can I tell you he was NOT happy when I mentioned that I have a friend from HS who works for himself now doing exactly what this guy is only marginally good at. So, S/O to J.S. for making this guy insanely jealous), so I’d always been aware of the store, I’d just never gone inside. It was what he wanted to do, since I expressed an interest in superheros. I’ve never had a grown man take me to a comic store on a date before, so I was attempting to be open to new things. Remember, it’s been 6 years, so I really had no business complaining. To be fair, the store was actually pretty cool, despite having been in better stores over the years. I didn’t tell him that, though, because he was so frigging excited to get me inside. So, in we went and he was pointing out some cool figurines and actually telling me some funny stories about his childhood and collecting comics. Finally, he was showing some damn personality. I didn’t have to say a word, and didn’t for the next 40 minutes he had us wandering around the store. He picked up a few things as well, for some of his friends since he was there. He was polite enough to ask me if I wanted anything, I declined. Eventually we left, and I figured we’d be walking to the train, he would drop me off, and home I would go…
I hope you could tell from those dots, that the original plan of escape was thwarted. How, you ask? By him suggesting we go to Barnes and Nobles. No bookworm worth her weight in paperbacks passes up a chance to hit B&N, even in passing, so I agreed. I was actually a little moved, because I figured he was doing something nice for me, since I made known my insane obsession with books. He was showing promise and I finally started to think this wasn’t a total waste of time. But then we got to the fiction section, and that’s when our date started to officially die. One way to my heart is at least accepting that I read different things than you. You don’t have to like what I read. You can think it’s stupid, but at the very least show an interest in getting to know me and my reading habits. Not this guy. He broke all of those rules. We ended up in the Mystery section, to look at books that were more like the 1930s film noir genre. Okay, interesting, I guess. But I just spent 40 fucking minutes listening to this grown ass man ramble on about comics and cartoons. The least he could do was pay attention to the book I picked up. It was a romance novel, and I exclaimed how I think I’d read it and was excited to see it on the shelf, because it wasn’t by a popular author. He barely looked at me or the book, as he spoke over me, to tell me all about his favorite authors. Then he actually made me read some back covers, and then READ aloud some of his favorite excerpts. He then turned to me and goes “Isn’t that great? Don’t you just love this stuff?” . Gail’s reply “Nope. I prefer romance and paranormal stuff. But if you like it, awesome.” At t hat point, he was ready to go, after absentmindedly asking if I wanted anything. I declined.
Okay, so, date over right? Mais Non! He insisted on getting with me on the train. As you know, I’m going to the Bronx, so I was ready and willing to get on an express train. Not this guy. He wanted to take the Local, because he needed to get a Queens bound train at 53rd, or so I thought. To not be rude, I got on the local train with him. We got a seat. In walks a ridiculously handsome young guy who sits right across from us. I noticed him, mostly because my date wasn’t saying a word to me. He was staring straight ahead, and making sure his arms didn’t touch me in the two-seater. Okay, that’s fine. It was at that moment, the young man dropped the bottle cap to his water. We both looked down at it, at each other (direct eye contact), and bursts into laughter. That’s when my date decided I was interesting. He went to ask what happened, and I ignored him and continued to crack jokes with the guy about his now dirty bottle top. Date then goes “well at least you didn’t spill your water every where..” Hot guy goes “You don’t understand. That’s not the same man. It’s just not. She gets it.” and he winks at me. I winked back. And we laughed some more. Now Date is steamed. Ah well. 53rd street comes. I turn to him, “Isn’t this your stop?” He shakes his head, and goes “Nope. The next one.” Oh, you mean 59th Street and Lexington? Yes. The same 59th Street and Lexington that is an express stop. So…why were we on a damn local train???!!! I think Date believed I was going to get off with him, to catch my Express. But Nope. I hugged him awkwardly, told him thank you for the date, and informed him I had a good time. I blew him a kiss, and told him to text me when he got home. He said he would, and wished me a good night. Yes, I continued my conversation with the Hot Guy. But he eventually got off the train too. All good.
You would think all of that was the final nail in the coffin. But nope. Here was my final, “fuck-this-dude” moment: There were train delays, so I got home a little bit later than expected. And guess what wasn’t on my phone? A text asking me if I arrived home safely. So, again, you’re 44 years old but don’t know how to check up on a woman? No wonder your relationships have all failed before the year mark. I’ve had perfect strangers who I made out with randomly in bathrooms ask for my number, so they can make sure I got home safely after leaving the bar. And they’d stay on the phone with me until I told them I walked through my front door. I just spend an entire evening with this dude, rather, WASTED an entire evening on this dude, and he couldn’t even see about me? Is this the kind of bullshit I was to expect after a 6 year hiatus? So I sent a polite text informing him that I made it home and, again, thanks for a lovely time. I got an immediate reply “Thanks sweetie, I had a great time too.” and nothing else. So…he was sitting at home, what? Not really caring if I made it back to the Bronx? Maybe he was still mad at the fact I had great chemistry with our train buddy? Whoopsie. Anyway, I haven’t heard from him since. Which suits me just fine, because who wants to have that conversation? “Hey, sorry. You’re boring, rude, and too awkward for me. Oh, and you’re married. So no thanks on a 2nd date.”
Hopefully the next date with a totally different person, will end up better. Fingers crossed.
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