The Date From Hell

Show of hands – who here has gone on a date with someone they met online?  That’s what I thought, I’m not alone!  Ten years ago, I met many women through my Wednesday night karaoke routine.  Every Wednesday night (and some Mondays/Fridays/Saturdays), I would close the karaoke bar.  My confidence was through the roof during this phase of my life!  I mastered the art of meeting people, not just women, and striking up a conversation as if we had known each other for years.  I still count a few of those people as my friends even though I don’t get out much anymore.  But I learned that chicks dig a guy who can sing and who approaches them with confidence while making them laugh at the same time.  I learned much about the art of conversation because I met so many people each week.

I tell you all this so you can understand how unbelievably horrible my date from hell came to be.  In the Spring of 2011, I became single again.  It took me until the fall to begin looking around at all the dating sites available online.  I created a dating profile on a couple of sites and sent out a few messages.  Two things surprised me.  One, the women who sent me messages were absolutely not my type!  I’ve read that people psychologically choose people who they see as being roughly as attractive as they feel they are.  If that’s the case, then I must be extremely overweight and horribly ugly!  That was the type of woman responding to me!  The messages I would send out to the hot women went unanswered, so I assume they were at their computer saying, “what the fuck is this guy thinking?”  The second thing that surprised me was, the profiles people put up were not exactly accurate!  Shocker!  After having a phone conversation, and after one meeting for coffee, most of the people I met just ended up boring me.  I couldn’t make a connection with anyone!

And then, the date from hell entered my world.  I will call her “Lucifer” because I can’t remember her name.  We agreed to meet at a bar/restaurant about half way between our homes.  I arrived slightly early as I always do, and I sat at the bar with a view of the door.  She came in and we had the normal chit-chat for about one minute.  She then said, “I’m hungry, can we order some food?”  Well, I really wasn’t planning on spending that much time with her as I had already made up my mind in that first minute that she wasn’t someone I’m interested in.  So I responded politely with, “I hear the chicken wings are good here.”  I’m such a wimp!  She said, “I think I want some chicken fingers.”  Awesome!  Maybe we can bond over chicken!

Then things got weird.  As we waited for the chicken, she wouldn’t speak unless I asked her a direct question.  Once the question was answered, she clammed up again.  There was no, “I was born and raised on a turnip farm, and you?”  It was just, “I grew up on a turnip farm.” Silence.  Awkward pause.  “So, a turnip farm, huh?  That must have been interesting.”  “Yeah it was.”  Silence.  Awkward pause.  When the chicken arrived, we had that to talk about, so it was all good.  “So, how are your chicken fingers?”  “They’re good.”  Silence.  Awkward pause. Om nom nom nom.  Then her cell phone rang.  She couldn’t find it in her purse before it stopped ringing, but the call was from her son.  She sat there staring at her phone for a few minutes obsessing over why he would be calling her.  “Maybe he’ll call back.  I’m sure he’ll call back if it’s important.  Did he leave a voicemail?”  “No.  I don’t know why he called.” Silence.  Awkward pause.  “I wonder why he called me.”  “I’m sure he’ll call back.”

At this point, I was wishing someone would call me and tell me my apartment was on fire and I was the only person on earth who was going to be able to save the puppies in all the other apartments.  I finally just gave up and said, “Why don’t you just call him back?”  “Oh, do you mind?  I really want to find out why he called.”  “Please, go call him.  I’m good here.”  So she reaches into her purse and pulls out her pack of cigarettes.  I’ve dated people who smoked and I lived with a woman who smoked, but this go-around, I was making smoking a deal breaker!  “I thought your profile said you didn’t smoke.”  “Oh no, I smoke all the time – way too much.”  Stunned silence on my part as I watched her take her smokes and her phone out to the designated area outside the bar.  Roughly 10 minutes later, she comes back in and, without explanation, says “I think I have to go, is that okay?”  “Oh sure, that’s fine.”  I was celebrating in my head that this night was mercifully going to end!  “Well it was nice meeting you, thanks for dinner.”  And we’re back to stunned silence.  “You’re welcome.”  No awkward  pause this time – she was out the door!  I sat there and started laughing.  I’m sure the bartender thought I was crazy, but I was just so happy she was gone!  I paid my tab and went home to see if there were any puppies who needed to be saved.

I now had a great story to tell people.  One of the people I told was the next person I met online.  This one was someone I thought was too hot to respond, but she did.  After a week of e-mails and a two hour long phone call, we went on a date.  We met at the bar next door to Go Bananas.  I sat at the bar with a view to the door.  She came in and she was even prettier in person than the one picture she posted online.  We chatted for a few minutes, and then we went over to the comedy club.  She sat down and picked up the limited food menu they had and said, “I think I want some chicken fingers.”  If she could have kept a straight face, I would have believed her.  I saw just a hint of a smile as she waited for my response and then it hit me – I told her that story among the many things we talked about on our week of e-mails and two-hour phone call and she remembered it and used it against me!  I’m going to marry that woman!  No, really, I am!  This woman is Alana, and the only way I can get her to read my blog is if I mention her!  I put her at the end, so now she has been forced to read a story she’s already heard.  It took me a while, but now we’re even for the chicken finger joke!

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1 Response to The Date From Hell

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