Sometimes I think my life is funny.

Wednesday, March 12, 2014

That Time I Went on a Date with a Senseless, Preppy Version of The Hulk

By now you should know how the story starts – a guy sent me a message on OKCupid, I checked out his profile, he seemed relatively good looking and he could string together complete sentences. Since that’s a rare find, I decided to give this guy a shot.

After a few messages he asked for my number and I gave it to him. That’s when the weird things began. First he texted me but didn’t tell me who he was (and considering I’ve given my number out to a few guys, you need to identify yourself in the first text). Then he sent me a picture of a baby and wrote “Hi from my nephew.”

I feel like it’s in Common Sense 101 that you learn not to send pictures of children to strangers, no?

Still not knowing who this guy is, I replied “Dear Stranger, not a good idea to send pictures of your adorable nephew to strangers. Don’t worry, you’re safe this time around because I’m not a creep.”

After that he finally identified himself and kept texting me and he even challenged me to a wheelchair race. Bad idea, obviously I’m going to win since you don’t even have a wheelchair.

Then I would wake up to texts from him that he sent at 4 and 5am.

WHAT THE FUCK IS ANYONE DOING AWAKE AT 4AM?

Apparently, the gym.

Ugh. Here I am eating Chef Boyardee Beef Ravioli and girl scout cookies every night for dinner as I lay on my couch Netflix binging and I’m talking to a guy that wakes up at 4am to go to the gym? That was my first indicator that this guy wasn’t the one for me.

Sorry, but I have no desire to date a guy who is going to judge me for laying around and stuffing my face with microwaveable food. I want to date the guy that tells me I’m beautiful as the cookie crumbles fall down my shirt because I stuffed my mouth too quickly and found that I can’t fit 7 thin mints in my mouth at once. Not the guy who judges me for wearing sweatpants and eating brownies for dinner.

But hey, what the hell. I’m 25. I have plenty of time to date the wrong guys, so when he asked me to brunch, I said yes.

He told me there was a place in Coconut Grove that he used to go to all the time that had great brunch. So I show up the restaurant and what do I see? 

STAIRS!

STAIRS!
No, not just one step that someone might think my wheelchair could hop.

A FUCKING SET OF STAIRS. Followed by what? ANOTHER SET OF STAIRS!

The path at the top of the stairs led to ANOTHER set of stairs!
Is this real life? Did you miss all the pictures in my profile of me in a wheelchair? Did you miss the words in my profile that explicitly state that I use wheelchairs?!

NO, YOU DIDN’T.

I know you didn’t because you challenged me to a wheelchair race. Yet you invited me to a restaurant with stairs to get in? A restaurant you used to go to ALL THE TIME?!

SERIOUSLY?

Yep. Seriously.

So there I wait, at the bottom of the staircase, and this mofo is late. Umm. No. Girls are allowed to be late, guys are not. I don’t give a shit if you think that’s a double standard and blah blah blah. Don’t care. Rules are rules.

When he finally shows up I see this six foot something, bulky man wearing a hoodie that would be tight on ME and I can’t help but wonder how he got it on and if he is going to randomly rip it off Hulk Hogan style at some point during our meal. He didn’t, thank god.

This is an accurate depiction of what was going on in my mind.
He was also wearing tight, ripped express jeans. Not ripped because he’s super masculine and was working on his car. No. Ripped because Express made them that way. I’m not sure why, but I can’t respect a man who wears Express jeans. Certainly not tight ones.

So I follow him up TWO SETS OF STAIRS and order a delicious banana strawberry waffle. We start talking and the conversation is about him. Okay, fine. But we keep talking. The conversation is STILL on him. I swear I can tell you his life story now because all we talked about was him.

It wouldn’t be terrible that he just wanted to talk about himself, except he clearly didn’t know when to shut his mouth.

First he tells me about how he used to live in Coconut Grove, but then he “changed careers” so he lives with his mom now. Why would you tell me that right off the bat? Are you trying to guarantee that there will be no second date?

Then I ask him why he changed careers and he tells me that he had a job as an accountant, but his boss didn’t know what he was doing. This is where I expect him to tell me he quit because he thought his boss was incompetent. Nope. This is where he tells me he got fired.

Why would you tell me that?

But wait – it wasn’t his fault. It was his boss’s fault because his boss is incompetent.

Listen buddy, we all get fired (okay, not ALL of us, but it happens to a lot of people), so I understand. No need to play the blame game though. That’s not attractive.

After he finished blaming his boss, he goes on to tell me he got another job. He was doing a GREAT job there, he was one of the BEST accountants there. But, again, his boss was incompetent, SO HE GOT FIRED AGAIN!

Admitting you were fired once is already bad enough, but TWICE? And neither time was your fault? Please just stop talking.

“That’s when I decided to change careers” he says.

No, you didn’t “decide” to change careers. Your career rejected you.

“So I took a $15,000 pay cut” he tells me.

Umm, first, it’s so not okay to talk about your income on the first date. Unless we’re in a serious relationship, that’s not my business. Second, that wasn’t a pay cut. You were unemployed then you took a job. That’s just called pay.

“I was making $65,000, but now I’m only making $50,000.”

Again, that is so unattractive to talk about your money.

But more importantly, YOU’RE MAKING $50,000 AND YOU LIVE WITH YOUR MOM?!

You’re 26 and you’re gainfully employed. It’s time to take off your tight Express jeans and put on your big boy pants so you can move out of your mom’s house and stop blaming everyone else for your failures.

Then he tells me how he works for a cruise line now and orders food for the ships. I tried to be interested, so I asked him about getting fresh produce to the ships. Shut up, yes, delivery of fresh produce interests me! Then I told him he should get New York apples on his ships, not Washington apples or any other kind. I made a big push for granny smith and golden delicious apples. I know, I finally get a chance to talk in the conversation and I talk about apples. I fail. 

When we finished breakfast I was excited to leave, but then the waiter offered dessert and, I mean, who really ever says no to dessert?

So I stayed, listened to more of his life story, and enjoyed my key lime pie.

Then he insists on driving me to my car which was less than a block away. When we get to his car it’s this tiny little deathtrap that he calls a “sports car.” After I get in, he proceeds to tell me about the time he totaled his grandfather’s car.

OH MY GOD JUST STOP TALKING.

But it doesn’t even stop there.

A week after our date he texts me out of the blue. We hadn’t talked since our date and he randomly texts me this weirdness:
Him:  Would you like to see my instagram view on religion?
Him: And by the way, we have granny and golden delicious on the ships too.
Me: That's possibly the weirdest thing anyone has ever asked me.
Him: I try to keep it interesting.
Him: Image of a text conversation he had with another person. 


Image he attached:
A one sided text conversation with "Chad."
Him: I especially enjoy seeing people on IG post things like this...:
Him: Image of text that says "Sometimes when you wonder why you can't hear God's voice during your trials, Remember the teacher is always quiet during the test."
Him: Then follow it up with:
Him: Image of a woman talking to a child with text that says "Let me tell you a secret. If you hit my baby again imma fuck you up."
Him: #epicfail #wtf #skeezer



Yup. That’s how this story ends. I wish I could give you a more grandiose ending, but it was just plain weird.

Abridged version:

Guy asked me out. He knew I use a wheelchair and invited me to a restaurant that had a flight of stairs to get in. He showed up late and looked like the Hulk dressed in preppy children’s clothes. His shirt did not rip during our meal, though I fully expected it to. He told me about how he had been fired TWICE but neither time was his fault. He also told me about how he makes $50,000 but lives with his mom.

Lessons Learned:
1. There are 26 year old men that make $50,000 and still live with their moms.
2. There are now Granny Smith and Golden Delicious apples on a major cruise line.
3. The Hulk would not look good in tight jeans. 

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