So we’re all familiar with my 5 second rule in judging (yes, I do judge people, don’t act surprised) whether or not I am attracted to someone. Or will ever be. Well 5 seconds was more than enough time to decide that Mr. Wink wasn’t ‘the one’ (or even the 1,000th). You have no idea of the pain that I subjected myself too in order to NOT rack up too many karmic demerits last night.
I arrive at the restaurant to look for the 6’1″ ‘about average’ in build, nice smile having, computer guy. What I am met by is a 6’1″, possibly 98 lb (soaking wet), nearly transparent guy with some sort of a nervous tick going on. No clue if any of you are fans of 80s music, but if so, remember the band Midnight Oil? Remember the lead singer of Midnight Oil? The kinda creepy yet kinda sexy guy. Yeah subtract about 100 lbs and any trace of sex appeal from him and you’ve got my own personal stick figure of a date. Damn.
We sit down and he proceeds to talk. And talk. And talk. A half hour goes by, the waitress has come over 3 times already to take our order and he still hasn’t cracked the menu. Being as I’m all for efficiency (and getting the hell out of there as quickly as possible), I interrupt his gripping story about how he doesn’t go to Mexico anymore because it is ‘dirty’ to ask him what he likes at the particularly crappy Mexican restaurant that he chose. He doesn’t pick up my none too subtle hint and keeps rambling on. After another 10 minutes or so, I interrupt his story about how ‘dirty’ he thinks Jamaica is to tell him that he should really decide as a larger party was being seated and we wanted to get our order in before them. Duh, finally. So he’s not picking up on the fact that I am looking straight over his head while he talks and only responding with ‘uh-huhs’ or ‘that’s funny’ (when it wasn’t). He proceeds to tell me how dirty he thinks New York is as well as Los Angeles. Okay, so while skinny guy is making it more than clear that he’s either some sort of a germaphobe or just a judgy asshole, I am contemplating faking my own death. As the knives weren’t very sharp, I was left to just bide my time and hope that I miraculously spontaneously combusted. Every question he asked me I answered with one word. Every stance he took on anything, I took the opposing view. Every time he said he liked something, I said I hated it. And yet, I never saw that lightbulb of recognition go off over his head.
I practically inhaled my dinner once it arrived and he took his own sweet time with his. I began playing with the food remnants on my plate. I began breaking chips in the basket. I tried everything that your run of the mill toddler might do in order to try to annoy and bring a swift end to the date. NOPE. Apparently one of us was having a good time and it certainly wasn’t me. After dinner he excused himself to the restroom (I can only assume to throw up his dinner), but I have never wished so hard that I was being ditched and left with the bill. I swear, I really hoped for that. Darn it all, he came back. And he continued asking me questions. Really? By this time I had put in my hour and a half and was tired of looking at his bald head and dumbo-esque ears, so I asked him if I could split the bill with him. And he said yes. WTF? Anyway, it was a price I was more than willing to pay in order to escape. He then backtracked and said I could just pay the tip. Yey. As he’s signing his cc receipt, he says ‘well, I had a really great time and ……….’ and I cut in with ‘yes, it was nice meeting you as well’. I swear, it was like I heard angels singing as the realization that I was not interested in him (in the least) finally set in.
We left, he walked behind me out to the parking lot, I walked straight to my car and hopped in. I have never hoped in my life for someone to be less attracted to me or my craptastic display of bad manners and shitty personality. Eh, I guess when you’re a garbage man, things like that don’t matter. Oh wait, did I forget to tell you? He’s not in ‘computers’ as his profile states, he drives a garbage truck. And has for 18 years. Now while I really don’t care what someone does for a living, I do care when they lie about it. And if they do have a crappy job, then they better be damn hot! He wasn’t ……….. end of story.