Buckle up bitches, have I got a story for you.
Why every date I go on has to be some kind of circus act, I’m not sure. Maybe I’m meant to be the Taylor Swift of blogging. Go on date, shit gets weird, write about it. Repeat.
Last week I got bored and went on Tinder (super great idea, I know). My Tinder-ing has been pretty rare these days. Usually I’ll hop on for a bit, giggle at a few weird profiles, match up with a couple people and that’s about it. This time, however, I matched up with homeboy and actually had a conversation for a while. ‘Twas refreshing! Things were going well (as good as shit can go via text) and homeboy asked me out. I said yes… and from then on it was a downward spiral.
After my agreeing to meet in person, I think homeboy (I’ll call him John from here on out) got a little too excited or was maybe shocked that a female actually agreed to spend time with him. He immediately suggested snorkeling, walking on the beach, then going out to dinner in La Jolla. After I told him that is way too intense, he suggested getting drinks, playing bocci ball, then going out to dinner or MAKING DINNER TOGETHER AT MY HOUSE. I would’ve canceled right then, but in between suggesting hardcore dates you’d see on The Bachelor, he also started saying things like “please don’t ditch me” or “girls always bail” or the totally normal “I no longer have faith in your species because you always bail.” Why. Why me.
I knew then I needed to cancel. I really did. But I felt bad for the guy. I felt like maybe I could give this guy some constructive criticism on not sounding so intense right away or, worst case scenario, I’d get a free drink. Yeah. Didn’t happen.
We met at a classy bar/restaurant down the street from my house (I talked him down from doing a million things and told him we should just grab a beverage only). John told me he’d be a little late, so I timed it so that I arrived 5 or 10 minutes after him. I ended up getting to the place before him anyway, and John called and said he was trying to find parking. To help him out, I kindly let him know there was a $5 pay lot right next door to the bar. After a pause, he says he’s trying to find street parking and also says something along the lines of, “Now it’s like you’re asking me if you’re worth 5 bucks.” Um yeah. I kinda was. It was a test and you failed. Hard.
Again, I should’ve ran right then. But I didn’t.
I told him I’d meet him inside at the bar because I was sick of waiting. After 30 minutes (yeah, I know), he finally shows up. After looking at the beer list, he can’t choose a f*cking beer, so he tells the bartender to pick one. The bar is also doing a beer promo where part of the proceeds go to breast cancer research and you get a free pint glass. John goes “Ok that sounds cool but it’s not like $11 or anything right.” Oh.. here we go. It was 6 bucks. And it’s for cancer. Turns out, John didn’t like the beer the bartender chose, so he sent it back and got a different one.
I know. I should’ve “gone to the bathroom” and never returned. But I didn’t.
Next up, the bartender asked for a card to start a tab. I pause. I pause some more. John never retrieves his card. I whip out mine are let the bartender know this was for MY DRINK ONLY. And I am livid. After talking more about drinking and such, I am informed that John doesn’t drink that much. Yeah I can tell. Fine, whatever. But furthermore, he begins to insist that I was the one who suggested drinks. Me. WTF I AM GOING TO CHOKE YOU OUT. Dear John, if you’re reading this, please reread your texts and realize your error. Also, don’t ask a chick out and then not pay. WHO ARE YOU.
I should’ve left right then, but I didn’t. I ordered another drink instead to aid me through this nightmare.
After this payment issue, John began to wonder how a pretty gal like me could be using a dating app. “Well John, I just really like to judge people based on their hotness and also go on weird dates like this so that I can write about it later”… is what I should’ve said. Instead, I told him how at my former college, the app got super popular and everyone had it, so now I just check it out every once in a while. Upon mentioning my college was SDSU, he said “EW, herpes.” He actually said that.
I chugged my drink.
A few other dumb things happened (like John saying he works at a restaurant but it’s too expensive to go there but maybe he can use his discount), more money talk, more dumb comments, him straddling me and brushing my thigh with his hand (scared), etc. etc. etc. He then asked me what my favorite color was because we clearly had nothing more to talk about.
I flagged down the bartender to close out my tab.
I almost sprinted home, but we were walking the same way for a while so it was too awk. He gave me his free pint glass, saying he won’t use it much (hello boring.com). Then, when I was finally able to get away, his parting words were, “Well, the ball is in your court if you ever want to see my face again.” Yeah, thanks. I think I’ll pass.
I took an alternate route home in case he was following me and unmatched him on Tinder.
Good luck to you, John. You’ll need it.