Geez, I hope no one hurt themselves when they read the title to this post, but alas, it’s sadly true. I didn’t time my re-entry into the cesspool that is online dating very well considering that I’m once again on the HCG diet which not only disallows food of any sort (okay, that’s a slight exaggeration), but absolutely forbids alcohol! What the hell was I thinking! I’m only one week in and have 3 weeks left to go. Okay, if I bend the rules a bit (like we all know I adore doing), maybe 2.5 weeks, but that still doesn’t help me tonight.
So I set out for my date with the 51 year old 6’4″ guy that I have never spoken to or done anything more than exchange funny e mails via match. A real date mind you. To a comedy club. Awesome idea as if I hate him, I can still have fun! I really know very little about him because I don’t much care, am a bitch, and my heart really isn’t in this. Lucky guy, no? As he’s so tall, I will finally get to sport my new 5″ wedge shoes that I bought months ago but never got to wear as TD hated when I was taller than he was and at 6’3″ in these babies, I was a good 3″ taller. I need to practice my mantra though as it’s been so long since I’ve worn shoes this high. “must not faceplant. must not faceplant” 🙂
Well, I’m now back home, 4 hours after I met my tall 51 year old. No, don’t get excited, over an hour of that was drive time and then we can take out 2 hours that we
thankfully we weren’t allowed to speak during the comedy show. Let me recap the evening for you all (3).
I showed up early as I always do mainly to avoid him seeing me teetering in my shoes that I really can’t walk in. He arrives on time and from a distance isn’t too shabby. Tall, decent build, good hair (although entirely grey). Too bad he proceeded to approach. 😡 He comes up and gives me a hug and then hands me a CD that he had made for me. Nice, right? Absolutely. However kinda strange too as we had never discussed music and nowhere in my profile does it say that I even like music. Still nice. So as we enter the club we have to wear one of those lame paper wrist band thingies (god knows why), but Mr Tall gets all fidgety about having to wear one and wants to take his off the millisecond we get inside (past incarceration and it reminds him of hand cuffs maybe?). We sit down and the waiter comes over to get our drink orders when the kiss of death is announced. He doesn’t drink. As a matter of fact, he’s one year sober. Awesome for him and I applaud anyone who embraces sobriety, but I’m just not one of those people. As I wanted to be respectful (added to the fact that I’m not supposed to drink on HCG), we both ordered seltzer (*barf*). Then the really weird stuff started. Not only could he not stop fidgeting with his paper wrist band, but he was constantly scanning the room while talking to me. Now, I fully realize that I wasn’t wearing the most provocative cleavage accentuating top, but really? Look at who you’re talking to once in a while tall guy. And stop being so jittery! I listened to his inane chatter for a while, ask lots of questions and give the appropriate heads nods. All the while comparing him to you know who. Waiter comes by again and sees that Tall 51 Year old’s (yes, i’m that lame in coming up with nicknames) glass is completely empty so offers him a refill and reaches to grab the empty glass when it happens. Tall 51 year practically jumps out of his chair and says rather loudly, ‘I’m not done with that, leave it’. Uhm, it was just ice and a straw. Whatever. The poor waiter tried his best to clear that glass 3 times and Tall 51 year old would never let him. Very odd. Comedy show was great though AND we weren’t allowed to talk during it! Yey!
After the show, it was only 9:05 so I agreed, reluctantly, to go ‘get coffee’ with him. Nope, that’s no euphemism here people, it’s just coffee. As we had driven separately, we decided to meet there and this guy actually sprinted to his car, leaving me to walk to mine alone. At night. In the dark. I almost just drove home. 45 more minutes of boring conversation, disturbing mannerisms and TD comparisons later, I called it quits and came home. I’m not ready to date. I’m certainly not ready to date 51 year olds who in NO way are only 51, with strange mannerisms, a jumpy demeanor and dentures. Now granted, I’m not positive that they were dentures, but they were awfully straight, white and shiny! Oh! And he also asked me if I own my own home, if I have a housekeeper, and since I don’t if I keep my house clean. Uhm, what the hell kind of question is that? As I knew I wasn’t interested in he, his weak chin or his jittery behaviour, I said that no, I don’t. That I live a little bit like a pig. To which he displayed a look of horror. Apparently that wasn’t enough to extinguish his interest as he left me with a hug and a ‘call me’ as he sprinted to his crappy car….