New Year's Date Countdown

http://www.abadcaseofthedates.com has some pretty good stuff.  It got me thinking that I should share my worst date ever with you.

           I have blocked this man’s name from my memory so we’ll just call him Big Bug Eyed.

          On the phone I realized he didn’t really get my sense of humor, but found himself very amusing.  He seemed to be quite a talker, so there would be conversation, I thought.

          We met at a restaurant and were seated.  The man works in the medical field but went to culinary school; so, I thought maybe he’d have some good menu suggestions.  He ordered spaghetti & meatballs.  I was raised with the idea of order something you like but probably won’t make at home.  He said he always orders spaghetti & meatballs.  Not seeing how the tuition money was well spent.

          Anyway, during the course of the meal he talked…and talked…and talked.  He told stories about his life – none fascinating – and often used the empty chair to his left to speak to the imaginary person from his story.  I understand turning your head to add emphasis to a story but this was insane.  By the end of the night I was actually seeing a person in that chair too.

          He told one story about people saying or someone thinking he was gay.  “I’m not gay,” he shouted to the imaginary chair guy.  “I’m not gay.  Other people may be and it’s okay, but I’m not gay.”  Dude, I know.  I’m on the date with you – stop shouting.

          I asked what he was doing on the 4th of July, giving him the perfect opportunity to, in turn, ask me.  Well that didn’t happen.  His soliloquy took us into dessert.

          When I thought the conversation couldn’t get any worse, there it was, the mention of the Ex.  I have to say, the first time a guy talked about his Ex on a date with me, I was in disbelief.  I really thought it only happened in movies.  But Big Bug Eyed beat him by a landslide.  Not only was she an Ex, she was his ex-fiancée.  I heard about her, her parents, all the details of how he proposed, why they broke up, how her parents were a cause for the break up – oh dear God it went on.

          I excused myself and went to the bathroom at one point.  On my way up the stairs my mind was racing – who can I find, who can save me, I need to get out of here.  I got to the bathroom and called my best friend.  I have never walked out on a date but I really really wanted to.  I chatted with her for a minute to regain my sanity, hung up, and then thanked my lucky stars I had a cold and drove myself.

          When I returned to the table he asked if I wanted dessert and I said no thank-you.  My cold had almost completely cleared up but I had just enough phlegm left to pull off a convincing cough.  I told him it was time for my cough syrup which I left in my car.

          We left and got in the elevator to the parking garage.  Fortunately he was on a couple floors below me so we weren’t heading in the same direction.  I got to my car, drove off, and saw him standing by his car on his phone talking on my way down.  I sped by and ducked so he wouldn’t see me.

          On my drive home I got a text saying what a great time he had.  Oh, My.  Then I got home and had another text saying that he made it home safely.  Good for you, I didn’t ask and didn’t care.  The next day I get another text asking me what plans I had for the 4^th. 

Dude, seriously!?  Now you want to ask me?

Here’s an update on the latest stew-nod: first we emailed, then exchanged numbers, then had our first phone call…

          A few minutes into the phone call I noticed something seemed off.  He sounded distracted, like he was watching TV or something, but I didn’t hear any background noise.  He asked a lot of questions and responded to everything.  Some of the responses were just a chill laid back voice, then others were passionately enraged.  We would be talking about a basic run-of-the-mill topic and then he would shout out, “Right? F%*& that Zia.  Who needs it?” OR “Screw’um.  Good for you Zia.  F$*# them.  F&^#@* bullshit, am I right?

Whoo – okay fella – breathe.

          Then we’d change subjects, move on, then out of no where – “But F*@# that…(enter a prior subject here.)”

Oh, we’re back on this subject again?  Okay.

          After this went on for about thirty minutes he finally said, “Yeah, I have ADD, don’t know if you’ve noticed that.”  (Oh, believe me, I noticed something.)  “I actually was just recently diagnosed.”  (Mystery solved.)

          So the scattered conversation continued for a while.  I kept trying to end the conversation, but how can you when you don’t know where it’s headed?  Then finally he said, “…My dog’s eating this food and she’s kind of fussy.  So today I tried a new food and – well, Zia, I have to go to the bank now.  I’ll call you again sometime.”  And that was it, an instant ending.

          I managed to contain my laughter during the call but after the hang up I lost it.  I knew he would call again because he seemed to really enjoy talking to/at me.  And for my own amusement, I knew I’d agree to meet him someday.  However, between the phone call and the first meet I’m pretty sure he forgot my name, until one day when he called, after I told him I’d be working, and conveniently got my voicemail.

          After getting our conflicting schedules in sync, we finally met.  We took his new pup for a walk around town.  Nice change from the Starbuck’s meet’n’greet.  He walked towards me, not as short as I was anticipating, with the cutest little yorkie – however, he thinks it’s a dashound.  Not dealing with a genius apparently.

          After he sized me up he said, “Oh my God, how weird is that, were dressed exactly the same?”

          I, being me, was oblivious to this.  About a moment later, his dog came up to me and he said, “She must be confusing you with me.  We’re both wearing gray pants.”  – Yeah buddy, that’s it.

          Again, the conversation went everywhere.  How he doesn’t have constant dry mouth is beyond me.  At one point we talked about his ADD and his meds and then he mentioned how he also did his other “medicine.”  I, of course, played dumb – come on buddy, say it, you’re a 36-year-old pot-head.  For me, major turn-off, not that I was feeling compelled to jump his bones anyway.  Case of the Asian flat ass.  I think his may have actually indented.

          The rest of the stroll went something like this:  Yes, I smoke pot…I can’t believe we’re wearing the same outfit…I’m the top salesman in the country…What does it say about us if we dress the same…I like to write…Wonder what people are thinking when they see us walking in the same clothes…I can’t get into that, but I know shit…I love to swear…You think I’m crazy don’t you?

Me: Yeah, lil’bit.

          At the end of the walk he wanted to get together again.  This man totally entertains me but probably not for the reasons he’d like.

          He shot me a text over the weekend wanting to hangout sometime during the week.  I told him what day worked for me.  He sent a text earlier that day asking if I still wanted to hangout.  He called in the evening.  That conversation went something like this:

Him: You don’t do any “treatments, do you?”

Me: (playing dumb) What?

Him: Pot.

Me: No.

Him: Are you straight-laced?

Me: Sure.

Him: Well, that’s what I was planning.  Hey, you go running in the morning, can I go with you?

          So, his master plan for a second date was to smoke up.  Guys, here’s a bit of advice: That plan’s not a winner.  He decided he wanted to go running with me in the morning if he wasn’t to drained from his evening activities.

  🙂  I haven’t heard from him again.