Archive for The Bad Date Collection

Set-ups

     A few weeks ago my coworker, and friend, a brainy beaut who’s a barrel of laughs and absolutely b-lightful (hereby known as B’liteful) had asked me if I would date an ex-marine.  If you’re a relatively new reader, then let me make you aware that I date all “makes & models.”  Although ex-military isn’t something I look for, I can roll with it.  A little further into her questioning, I discovered that a friend of hers, Miss Match-Up, has a guy friend that she wanted to set up.  Now, how many of you cringe at the words “set up?”  I know if it were a family member attempting such a feat, that is exactly what I’d be doing.  However, this idea doesn’t bother me so much.  I mean, if you think about it, who knows you better than your friends?  And as my years {…sigh…} of online dating has proven to be unsuccessful, I’m thinking set-ups are the wave of the future for me.  While I was doing my Love in 90 Days project, I read that Dr. D highly recommends it too.  So, why not?

     At first there was a brief email introduction by Miss Match-up.  I came across as a ants-in-her-pants granny.  (May have to rethink this friends setting me up thing…)  I received a text from B’liteful later double checking my email since she’ll be sending photos in a little bit.  Having never met him herself, she was curious what he looked like.  The subject line to her email was “Um, you’re welcome.”  He was cute enough from what I could see, his “resume” wasn’t too shabby either, and he had a pizzazz-y name.  It is pronounced as a well-known word from Star Wars.  For the sake of the blog, we’ll call him R2D2.  He was worth looking into.

     We began emailing that evening, and throughout the week.  It was a little unnerving at times when B’liteful would peek into my room the next day with elongated questions like, “Soooo?” or “Weeeeell?  It was a little odd having an audience on this one.  On the other hand, getting my own personal report card was kind of nice.  I’ll have you all know that I was reported as “charming,” “beautiful,” and Miss Match-Up said he was smitten by the week’s end.

     We had planned to finally meet, and go to dinner, on Saturday.  I was a bit fatigued from a long work week and having to work Saturday morning, but I managed to squeeze in a power-nap to get me through.  All day I had this gut feeling that I should text my friend to find out how tall he was.  It is true, I’m a sucker for tall guys, but this was more out of common courtesy.  I had planned on wearing my high-heeled boots and didn’t want to tower over him if he were short.  Never know when a short-man-complex is going to jump up on you.  In the end I didn’t text…and…should have gone with my gut.

     I arrived at my date having gone all out with hair and make-up to try to disguise the suitcases that were checked under my eyes.  In my knee-high, high-heeled boots, I walked across the street to greet him, and, after emailing all week, felt the meet deserved a hug-greeting.  However, I felt a boob to face greeting was a bit too much for a first meet. I know, I’m such a prude.

     We walked into the restaurant and were seated.  This is where the date was…well…wasn’t exactly great.   R2D2’s nerves may have gotten the best of him at times because he had this uncontrollable urge to continually ask me about my “favorites.”  “What’s your favorite movie?  What’s your favorite food?  What’s your favorite TV show?”  I asked about all the favorite questions and he snapped it was a first date and what was he supposed to ask.

Sidenote:  A)  Don’t snap at your date.  You’re asking boneheaded questions.  B)  Once I give you a TV show title, guess what?  Our conversation is over.  You’re asking one-word answer questions.  Go for open-ended questions.

     Anyhow, as the chatting continued, R2D2 continually reported how he was a disappointment to his parents, kept making bizarre and numerous comments about wanting to see Bring It On: The Musical, and other tidbits that only high-schoolers would/might find fun and entertaining.  Combined that with his height and I felt like I was on a date with a teenager.  In addition, when the server came to take our order and then recommended a different type of salad from the one R2D2 ordered, he pointed out how he was trying to up-sell him.  After causing the little scene, he ordered the more expensive one.  When the server came back to check on how it tasted compared to the original salad he had ordered, he confronted him by saying that he had never had the original salad here, so how would he know.  And then pushed the matter for a couple of minutes until I chimed in and said that it tasted basically the same, to which R2D2 called me a “peacemaker” when the server left.

Sidenote: C)  Complaining about the cost of dinner in front of your date…where does that sound like a good idea?  D)  It’s a common salad that you have probably had and some point in your life.  How does it compare to that?  Don’t pick a fight with the server just because.  And don’t be a douche.

     I knew reporting back was not going to be fun, so when I got a text from B’liteful asking how it went, I told her I’d tell her on Monday.  When Monday rolled around, I filled her in.  She later reported back that he thought that I didn’t really like him.  Hmm, I can’t imagine why.

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Prince Handsy (Part 3)

     I didn’t think it was possible to have more Prince Handsy news (read Parts 1 and 2 here), but the man just won’t quit.  I feel I have ended it with him about three times already.  Now, before you all start rolling your eyes, jumping up and down, and snapping, “Zia, what were you thinking?” let me just say, there was never a second date.  Before he got all gropey and slobbery on the first date, I had agreed to meet him again but fortunately he canceled the day of so I didn’t have to put myself in an uncomfortable situation again where I would feel like I was his own personal cat-nip.
     Through mostly texts and a couple of phone calls, here is a bit of the saga that is our Ground Hog Day relationship.

     The day after our first date he sent a text asking if we were on for Saturday.  I didn’t remember to agreeing to that.  Told him it was my birthday weekend, had plans with friends, but could possibly meet him for lunch if he came up my way.  (Figured I’d be safer in broad daylight.)  He said he already had plans with friends and wanted me to join.  (Uuuh, meeting your friends on the second date?  Really?)  He then rescheduled to Monday.  This was all accomplished by Wednesday.
     Got a few texts on Thursday, one saying “Happy Birthday.”  I told him it wasn’t until Sunday.  And then one saying, see you Monday at my place.  (Dude, already went over the fact that I don’t know you well enough to go to your place.)  Then received a text:

Prince Handsy: Please, can you dress sexy on Monday?

Zia’s Text:  Doubtful.  Don’t think you’d be able to behave yourself.

Zia’s Thoughts: I’ll be wearing a chastity belt in your presence.

     The texts continued for a little bit.  He then made a joke that wasn’t funny and inappropriate and I told him so.  He promptly apologized and was genuinely sorry.  Think he was afraid I’d bail on the date – tempting.

     Got another text that Saturday saying “Happy Birthday” and then didn’t hear from him for the rest of the weekend.  By Monday evening I still hadn’t heard from him, so I sent a text to see if we were still on.  Got a text saying yes, and then a phone call to cancel.  This was fine by me.  Earlier that day I had found out that a friend of mine finally lost his two-year battle with leukemia that morning, so I was in no mood to really be on a date.
     Didn’t hear from him again until Wednesday. 

Prince Handsy: Can we meet tomorrow?

Zia’s Text: What time?  I thought you had class?

Prince Handsy:  Yes, I do.  I am done at 9:30pm.

Zia’s Text:  That’s way too late for me during the week.  Sunday?

Zia’s Thoughts:  You sound like you’re scheduling a booty call.

Prince Handsy: Ok

Zia’s Text (at 7:40pm):  Can we do the afternoon?

Zia’s Thoughts: Again, I want broad daylight with you.

Thursday

Prince Handsy:  Let’s do Saturday.

Zia’s Text:  I can’t.  I work all day Saturday.

Zia’s Thoughts:  Ugh, creature of the night.  Hoping to feel me up in the moonlight again?

Prince Handsy:  Ok.  Hope all is well?

Zia’s Text:  Yup, everything’s fine.  You?

     He decided to answer that question on Saturday.  After I got the “ok” on Thursday, I gathered that meeting Sunday afternoon was what the “ok” was agreeing to.  However, I never heard of any plans.  I worked late that Saturday and while I was driving home at 11pm he called.  I was incredibly tired and was in no mood to talk.  If he had wanted to meet me Sunday, he should have planned ahead better.  When I got in, I sent a quick text.

Zia’s Text (11:22pm):  Hi Prince Handsy, sorry, I was driving when you called.  I just got home from work and am super-tired.  Hope you’re having a good night.

Prince Handsy (11:23pm):  I want you to come to my place.

Zia’s Thoughts:  Dude, WTF!?

Zia’s Text: (no response)

Sunday:

Prince Handsy:  How are you Princess?

Zia’s Thoughts:  Oh dear God, if he only knew the nickname I have for him.  And since when did I become a Princess?

     A few I’m fine, thanks texts and then I get…

Prince Handsy (10:37am):  Are you coming?

Zia’s Text (10:40am):  Coming where?

Prince Handsy (3:45pm):  To my place, please.

Zia’s Thoughts:  In what universe is that going to happen?  And Christ, five hours later you decide to answer?  Man, there are quite a few reasons why you are single.

Zia’s Text: (no response)

Prince Handsy (6:50pm):  Why are you mad?

Prince Handsy (7pm):  I don’t know why you are mad at me?

Zia’s Text (7:02pm):  I’m not mad.  Confused a little but not mad.  I’ve been at my friend’s house all afternoon helping her unpack from her move.  You asked on Wednesday to meet Thursday and I told you Sunday I was free.  You text back Saturday and I said no because I was working.  All you said was “okay.”  I didn’t know what that meant and never heard back from you, so when my friend asked for help, I made plans for my one day off.

And I also don’t know why you keep asking me to meet you at your place.  Prince Handsy, I like you (basically you’re just hot) but I don’t know you.  I’d like to get to know you better but you live far.  I have been down your way once.  You should come up my way if you want to see me again.  I think that’s fair.

Prince Handsy:  I’m a student.  It won’t be possible for me to come now, not until I finish my studying.

Zia’s Thoughts:  Ugh, Moron.  Did I say now?  No.

Zia’s Text:  I don’t mean now.  I mean we need to schedule, in advance, a time when we’re both free.  I know we’re both busy and have crazy schedules.  Planning is needed.

Prince Handsy:  Can you come now?

Zia’s Thoughts:  WTF is wrong with this guy!?

Zia’s Text (7:24pm):  No, I can’t come now.  I have been working all day and have to wake up early in the morning.  It takes me an hour just to get to you.  I don’t know why you don’t understand this.  Since you live an hour away, I can’t just up and come.

Zia’s Thoughts:  Did I spell that out simple enough for you?

Monday at 2:23am, Prince Handsy: I understand my dear.  Wishing you a beautiful week.

Zia’s Thoughts (2:23am): …zzzzzzzzzz…..zzzzzzzzzz…..

Tuesday

Prince Handsy:  Can we meet on Wednesday?

Zia’s Thoughts:  Dude, seriously?  Let’s see what he listened to.

Zia’s Text:  Will you be able to come up my way?

Prince Handsy:  I’m sorry, no.

Zia’s Text: (no response)

Friday

Prince Handsy:  Can you come my way?

Zia’s Thoughts:  Your text does not dignify a response.  It’s like teaching a child to retie his shoes each morning.  You want me to drive an hour and come right now.  Not gonna happen.

Zia’s Text: (no response)

     While I was half asleep in bed on Friday night, I heard a sound.  Took me a minute to realize my phone was ringing.  It was just about midnight and the caller ID read, Prince Handsy.  Hell no, I’m not answering now.

Saturday Afternoon

Prince Handsy: You are mad.

Zia’s Text: (no response)

Zia’s Thoughts:  You’re a bonehead.

     I would like to say this is the last of him, but he’s proven to be thick as a brick so there is no telling.  Note to self: wait until date is completely over before agreeing to second date.  And if the man is a former pro-soccer player factor in that there may be some brain damage.

Prince Handsy (Part 2)

     My last post left off at my being jumped and tongued by Prince Handsy in the FedEx store.  After he purchased his new pens, and I subtly wiped the slobber off my chin, we left.  I was thrilled to be out of the fluorescent spotlight.

     We strolled up the sidewalk a bit, he kind of hugged me from behind as we walked, told me my hair smelled good and asked what shampoo I used.  Then, for no reason, decided it was time for another tongue-to-tongue massage.  I managed to cut it short since we were gathering an audience and I had already had my fill of PDA for about a year.

     We walked on a bit more, more hands rubbing up and down my sides as we walked, and eventually stopped near his car.  He opened his car door to drop his pens off.  After a bit of a debacle of him saying he’d drive me to my car (it was only down the street), and me saying no (since I feared he would conveniently make a wrong turn to his apartment) he agreed to walk me.  He closed the car door, pulled me in, and hugged me.  As he was holding me tight he said, “I needed this.”  And right then it hit me, “Oh God, he’s a cuddler.”

Zia side note:  I am not a cuddler.  I once dated a cuddler and I was so not used to it and he was so shy, that I think he interpreted that I wasn’t into him.  Not the case, but nothing I can do about it now.

     He was still holding me when he said that going to his apartment wasn’t about sex and that he just wanted to be close to me and yada, yada, yada.  I told him he was a sweet-talker.  He pulled back a little to look at me, cocked his head and said, “Why do you say I talk sweet?”  I tried not to smirk at how adorable that came out, and then told him most girls in LA (or anywhere for that matter) would eat that up.

     This led into a brief conversation where he said he can choose.  Like I said in yesterday’s post – he was better looking than his picture.  I knew exactly what he meant.  He then told me he’s only had three dates (I assumed he meant since starting online dating.) and how he lied to them.  I needed some clarity on that because he made it sound like he lied to them to get sex and then never called them again.  I’ve had a lot of weird/bad/ridiculous things said to me on dates so him owning up to that wouldn’t have surprised me much.  Instead he shocked me by saying that he told one girl that a friend was in the hospital and he had to go.  He saw her to her car and then went back into his apartment to study.  He was trying to make it very clear that he was choosing me.

     He went in for another kiss, and the thought slipping into my brain was, “When will this be over?”  Not a thought you should have while kissing a guy.  I peaked my eyes open and saw how genuinely into it he was, yet maintaining control of his southern region, which was good because he wasn’t doing much for my southern region.  My Sleepy was…well…still asleep. (If you don’t know what My Sleepy is, then you missed some reading and need to get on it, so click here.)  At this point I went into fix-it mode.  I tried turning my head at a different angle, moving my lips a different direction, tried to figure out why there were teeth in weird places.  In one of my head adjustments, he saw that as an opportunity to lick my face all the way to my ear.  Saliva-ed around there for a while nearly ingested my earring and then made his way back to my mouth.  Felt like saying, “You sucking on my earring does nothing for me.  Just FYI.”

     And at this time I’d like to again apologize to those who witnessed the drool-in-ear moment.  I assure you I disliked feeling it as much as you disliked seeing it, maybe more.

     Finally his tongue was all over my chin and I had had enough.  There was just no help for this guy – bad slobbery kisser.  I turned my head a bit to stop and then said, “You can’t do that.”  He asked if his lips were too big.  I figured I’d be nice and rather than saying your tongue is all over the place, I put the blame on me. “No, my mouth is small.  You were getting my chin.”  Hey, why not tell him (or hint to him) right?  If he’s been going around his whole life doing that, it’s no wonder he’s single.

     We started walking to my car.  When I started getting closer to my car I noticed I had a parking ticket on my windshield.  Dang nab-it!  I read the parking sign wrong and this just became a very expensive date for me.  Prince Handsy chimed in and said if you had parked at my apartment this wouldn’t have happened.  You’ve got to admire his persistence.

     I sat in my car.  He asked when he could see me again.  I told him to call.  He was standing blocking the door so I knew there would be a hug good-bye and, if I didn’t hurt his ego, he’d probably work in another kiss.  He leaned into my car, squeezed me tight, and sure enough went in for another kiss.  But wait a minute.  The tongue is where it’s supposed to be.  There is no slobber.  Oh my God, he listened and took direction.  Holy Crap!

     As he was about to pull away, I felt his hand going up and I knew he was going in for a boob graze.  Sure enough I felt full cuppage.  It was quick.  He then moved his hand down, pulled away, and gazed at my chest.  While still looking at my mangoes, he asked, “Are they real?”  (Dear God, why do these things happen to me?)

     “Yes, they’re real,” I responded.  And like a kid looking in a toy store window, he saw exactly what he wanted for Christmas.

     He pulled away and asked when he could see.  I told him we have more things to talk about before that happens.

When I got home I received a text: Why are you scared of me?

After I had a little chuckle to myself, I responded that I wasn’t scared, I just needed to get to know him better.  I left out that I have self-respect, will-power, and am looking for a real relationship not a one-night stand.  I have  gathered not many women, if any, say no to this man.  This seems to only be making him want me more.

To read Part 3 click here.

Prince Handsy (Part 1)

     Monday night marked my return to the dating world, and let me just say, the dating gods have an epic sense of humor.  Allow me to elaborate…

     I met this newest beau via match.com.  He’s a former pro-soccer player, but after a torn ACL, he was brought back down to earth and has to do real work.  We emailed briefly and then he asked for my number.  He called and the first thing that threw me was his accent.  We hadn’t emailed in great depth so I had no idea he was foreign.  After about a two-minute conversation, he said he wanted to take me out.  A two-minute conversation made me dinner worthy?  Wow, I must be a hell of a conversationalist.  We scheduled a day and time and hung up.

     Over the weekend he wished me a Happy Easter and confirmed plans for Monday night.  So far, I was liking this on-the-ball maturity thing. On the down side, in some texts he was referring to me meeting him at his place.  This day and age, I am not comfortable with that.  Told him I’d meet him at the restaurant.  Fast forward to date night.

     I arrived early, parked on a side street, and headed to the restaurant.  He arrived, and I initially did a double-take.  He didn’t look exactly like his picture, but I knew it was him.  Added bonus, he looked better than his picture.  When does that ever happen!?  Felt a bit rude for having my head in my phone when he arrived but fortunately I had just text him, so I didn’t feel too bad.  He said he left his phone in his car.  I won’t be sitting with a guy who keeps checking his phone?  Whoa, another added bonus.

     We grab seats at the bar.  He rambles off a few drinks that they don’t have (he made no effort to look at the bold faced drink menu they placed in front of him.)  We get our drinks and somewhere in there I directed a teasing comment toward him.  His hand then rubbed my back made its way to my leg and he responded, “I can’t kiss you now.  I have to wait.”  (Note to self: He can handle sarcasm and seems to be turned on by it.)

     The kiss comment seemed premature, just like the date invite, but it was the hand rubbing my back and leg that threw me.  It wasn’t a pervy grope, more of an, “I’m interested and attracted to you” petting.  I am not a huge PDA fan, so this caught me by surprise.

     He kept making comments about his place, and I kept thinking, “I’m not going to your place.  Why the hell do you think I met you at the restaurant?”  Although most of his English was spot-on, there were a few lost in translation moments.

     There was more back/leg rubbing and a few more sarcastic comments.  At one point he leaned in to kiss me while we were still sitting at the bar.  (Should have known better, all that sarcasm proved to be too much for him.)  I wasn’t expecting it and had turned my head, so I got a half-lip part cheek peck.

     After one drink, he pays the tab.  Thought that seemed kind of quick.  When we get outside he points to where his car is and then asks where mine is.  It was just around the corner.  He said that was okay, I could just follow him.  I asked follow him where, knowing full well he thought I was going back to his place.  After a very stern, no I’m not going to your apartment, he seemed a little hurt and confused.  Told him we could go for a walk, but I wasn’t going to go back to his place.

     We start walking and I notice he got quiet.  I made a comment about the silence, figuring he was upset that he realized he wasn’t getting laid.  He said he just gets quiet sometimes and scooped in to pull me close and returned to feeling up my back and sides again.  (Yo, Prince Handsy, you’re interested.  Don’t worry, I got the memo.)

     We walked into another bar where he thought he knew someone that worked there.  After an air-headed conversation with the blond bartended to find out the guy didn’t work there anymore, we left.  When we got outside he commented how he didn’t like the way she talked/talked to him.  (Another note to self: Doesn’t like air-heads.  Appreciates intelligence.)

     We walked passed a FedEx store and he said he needed a pen because he lost his.  He banged a U-turn in the middle of the sidewalk, grabbed my hand and went in.  He stared at the pens for a bit, so I chimed in and asked if he liked the “clicky pens” or the ones with a cap.  He said the “clicky.”  I pointed to a pack and said those are my favorites.  My eyes kind of glanced around while he made a decision.  He picked up the pack of pens, turned to me, and said (while walking at me), “Well, I know who to blame if I don’t like them.”  And before I knew what was happening – tongue down my throat, hand on my ass, and slobber making its way to my chin.

     I’d like to take this moment to apologize to all witnesses of my molestation in FedEx on Monday night.

     This, however, is not the end of the Prince Handsy’s escapade…

To read Part 2 click here.

The Date That Didn’t…

…happen.

     Back to my old tricks again juggling a few online guys at a time this past month, one from Match and three from eHarmony.  The first guy from eHarmony disappeared after a few emails back and forth.  The second guy from eHarmony bored me to tears over email, telling me random crap about himself like, “I could eat a whole jar of peanut butter.”  Yup, that was its own paragraph.  We weren’t talking about food or passions or weaknesses, he just threw that information out there.  This now left me with the third guy from eHarmony and the guy from Match.

     The guy from Match is half black and half Italian and claimed in his profile that that was the best of both worlds.  After ogling over his pictures, I wasn’t going to argue with him.  We texted during the week and on Thursday we settled on Saturday morning to meet.  But that was it.  When I didn’t hear from him on Friday evening, I shot him a quick text asking if he still wanted to meet and when.  He text back saying, “Anytime…we can do lunch.”  I replied asking when, where, and all that jazz, hoping to get some details.  Never heard back.

     Saturday morning rolls around, I head out for a run, get home, shower, eat something, and then sit to watch a little TV.  Finally, at 11:58am, I get a text:

Mr. No-Show: Afternoon, great day for a run

Zia’s thoughts: Are you freakin’ kidding me?  I thought you wanted to meet for lunch.  Why the hell are you just texting me now, at noon!?

Zia’s response (at 12:11pm): It was a nice day for a run.

Mr. No-Show (at 12:42pm): Are you familiar with “such’n’such?”

Zia’s thoughts: Dude, it’s been a half an hour, where the hell did you disappear to?

Zia’s response (at 12:47pm): No, I don’t really know that area.

     He sent a few texts in a row to set up a place.  And again, I had to ask what time.  At 1:09pm he tells me…

Mr. No-Show: I was thinking 2.

     I did not see this for a few minutes so he texted again asking if that was okay.

Zia’s thoughts: Are you freakin’ kidding me?  That means I have twenty minutes to make myself presentable for a first meet!  I hope you are not expecting glitz and glam.

Zia’s response: Yeah.

     As I cursed out this unknown man while I put my make-up on in a hurry, I decided he’d get a made up face but jeans and a t-shirt are as fashionable as I was getting.

     I hopped in my car and realized I was going to be about five minutes late.  Sent him a text to tell him.  Five minutes later I get a text.

Mr. No-Show: Runnin late

Zia’s thoughts: MoTheR F*cKeR.  You picked this time and now you can’t even show up for it!?

Zia’s response: About how long?  Ten-fifteen minutes?  If so, I’m gonna run to Barnes & Nobel real quick.

Zia’s thoughts: If he ends up being later, at least I’ll have something to do and it’ll be a good meeting place.

     He tells me fifteen minutes and I tell him to let me know when he parks.

     It was a holiday weekend.  When I left the parking garage, I saw that the restaurant we decided on was packed.  Sent him a text about a different place that was next to B&N.  He said okay.

     About fifteen minutes later, I check out at B&N, walk back to my car, place my bag in the car, and then finally get a call from Mr. No-Show asking where the restaurant is.  Told him where and to let me know when he’s parked.  I walk back to the restaurant and stand out front and patiently wait…and wait…and wait…and then impatiently wait.  I get a phone call saying he doesn’t see the restaurant.  I asked if he was on foot or in his car.  He hesitated, “in my car.”

Zia’s thought: WTF!?  It’s a city strip, everything you need to get to is on foot.  Park! Park! PARK!  Is this your first day off the short bus?

     Again, I told him to find parking and got off the phone.  At this point I was annoyed and irritated.  No condition to meet someone for the first time.  And now I’m getting rained on.  Screw it.  Sent him a text telling him I had to take off.  As I set foot into the parking garage I get a reply.

Mr. No-Show (at 3:28pm): I just parked.

     For anyone doing the math, that was an hour and a half after we were “scheduled” to meet.

     I have said it before and like a broken record I’ll say it again – PLANNING!  Show me you put a little thought into meeting me.  I don’t think I’m asking for much.  I would just like to go out with a guy that is actually interested in meeting me, maybe even a little excited, and actually puts in a little effort into planning the date.  That’s what I get for trying to go on a date with a hot guy.  Why would they put in much effort, they don’t usually have to, right?

     This now leaves me with the third guy from eHarmony.  I’m utilizing their free communication month.  We have progressed to emailing and hopefully will chat this weekend.  However, I have yet to see a picture.  But after this experience, here’s to hoping he is butt-ass ugly.

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