OK, my first date ... well, I'm not going to elaborate too much on this one because I won't name names since some people would know him. Basically, I didn't like the guy too much or either of the people in the couple we were doubling with, so that was nowhere to start. We went to see a movie (don't even remember which one), ate at Steak N' Shake, he bought that stupid Live CD, and I was scarred by having to listen to "I Alone" on repeat for the entire 30-40-min. ride home while the three of them kept commenting on how great the song was. Apparently I was the only one to realize that there were other songs to try out on the CD. Ugh.
The insulin injection date ... this was a doozy. We went for dinner at Cafe Brio in Springfield. During chips and salsa, we started talking about my diabetes diagnosis. I explained how awful I felt it was at the time because I HATE needles, but how, now, it doesn't seem that bad because I don't really think of the insulin injections as shots anymore. I told him I have them categorized differently in my head and still hate to have to get a shot at the doctor. This wasn't the bad part. I don't mind people being curious at all. The totally ridiculous part is that when the food came and I had to take my insulin (all of 2.5 minutes after telling this story), he says how cool it is and asks if I would ever let him give the injection!! I was instantly irritated and said, "No, didn't I just tell you that I think of it differently, and I hate people giving me shots?" I figured being that blunt and accusing him of not listening would signal that this would be our first and last date, and it most certainly would have been bad enough if it had stopped there, but no. Then there was pressuring. He says, "What if something happened to you, and you passed out and couldn't give yourself the shot?" I told him in a MORE irritated tone, still no because if I had passed out, it would be likely that giving me more insulin would put me into a coma or kill me. Next he says (get ready for cringing), "Oh, OK then. Well, what if we had been dating for awhile and had become intimate. Then would you let me do it since we were so close?" Now I'm just disgusted and PISSED, so I say (Neal Page-style), "Look, there is absolutely no fucking way I will ever fucking let you give me my fucking insulin injection. EVER!" I was so grossed out by the "intimate" comment that I couldn't even address that part. He even had the audacity to ask if he could see me again as we left the restaurant (and here I thought that dropping the F-bomb on a date was poor form), to which I told him there was no possibility of that happening, and I couldn't end this one soon enough.
The broken shower guy ... this was the first guy I dated after I broke off my engagement. He asked me out for drinks for our first date, and I felt the need to be up front with him right away, telling him that I had just come out of a bad relationship, and I didn't want anything very serious. He seemed understanding. Second date was fine, but I didn't really know if anything was there for me. For our third date, I had symphony tickets from Abby, so I invited him along, and Abby wanted us to meet up with her and some other symphony folks afterward for dessert. He arrived at my place with his dress clothes, still needing to shower before the concert. I still wasn't too sure if there was any chemistry there, but when he asked that, I realized I ABSOLUTELY did not want him anywhere near my shower. That was telling. But what could I do? He had to look presentable for the concert. I sat on my couch seething as I heard the shower running. During this time, I also hear a loud crash and some fumbling around. I wonder what in the hell that could have been, but try to ignore. When he comes out, he asks if he could use my iron to press his shirt. I agree with obvious exasperation. Then he says, "What? You're not going to offer to iron it for me?" I say, "What didn't you understand about me telling you I had just gotten out of a relationship with a guy that couldn't take care of himself and not wanting to go there again for awhile?" (If you hadn't noticed, once someone pisses me off, the blunt truth comes out, and I don't feel the least bit bad about it.) Then he apologizes and says he was kidding, but I don't think that he was. Then he asked if he could use my hairbrush. I wouldn't think much of my friends asking me this, but him ... it grossed me out. I told him no. I wanted to not go to the concert at all at this point, but I trudge on. On the way there, I'm forcing myself to be pleasant and struggling to make nice conversation. We get to the concert, and in the middle of the show, I'm happy just to not have to talk to him, but he RUINS it by ... wait for it ... resting his head on MY shoulder!! At this point, I am so turned off by the lack of masculinity in that act that I want to get up and run screaming from the show, but I can't. I just pulled away and told him not to do that anymore. (As an aside here, I don't think it's horrible for a guy that I've been dating for awhile, am comfortable with and have feelings for to rest his head on me while say ... watching a DVD at home, although I'd still prefer for me to be doing the resting. There is something completely different about a guy doing this on dates 1-10 or so. And in public.) After the concert, I found Christina, apologized that I wasn't feeling well and wouldn't be able to make the dessert date (a boldfaced lie), went home and told him he had to leave. The next morning, I go to take a shower and see that the bracket that holds my showerhead is broken (explaining the loud noise I heard the previous evening), so you could only use it as a hand-held from that point on, not a regular shower. He said nothing about this. We didn't see each other again. (We wouldn't have seen each other again if the shower was fine, but that just added to the ridiculousness.)
The aspiring actor ... this one was in D.C. last summer. This guy asks me out that is one of the tour guides that drives the Old Town Trolley. I wasn't all that impressed with that, but we seemed to have enough in common to give it a try. While getting to dinner, he explains to me that the trolley thing is just a "temporary gig" while he works on getting acting parts. I ask him how long he's been doing the trolley thing, and he says, "About two and a half years." In my head, I questioned what he thought the meaning of temporary was, but he hadn't pissed me off enough for me to say it (see, I can practice SOME restraint). At dinner, I could tell that while we shared some things in common movie and TV-wise, when it came to our perspective on life, it wasn't good. He kept commenting on how he's so young (he was about 6 months younger than me) and has all the time in the world to achieve his goals (of acting). I said that I felt like I couldn't believe I was already 27, and if I'm going to make something happen, I need to hurry up and do it. He scoffed. I, realizing another date wasn't on the horizon, tried to change the subject, so I wouldn't end up telling him that a 2.5-year job isn't "temporary," breaking into acting is likely going to take awhile (especially from D.C.) and he's balding as it is. The rest of the dinner was OK. On the walk back to the Metro, somehow one of my friends from college who had a small child and had twins on the way at the time (now they're born) got brought up. He asked how old the guy was, and I said, "Twenty-six." He said, "God, I feel bad for that guy. What a terrible thing to do to yourself so young." Now I'm to the pissed point. I said, "Actually, he is a great dad, I've always seen him wanting to get married and have a family, and that is a really terrible thing to say." He says, "Well, one time, one of my friends' dads told me, 'The worst thing I ever did was have a kid. It ruins your life,' and I totally see what he's saying. I mean there is so much out there that you can't do when you have one. I mean, I'll have one someday, but I have so much time." I said, "I feel sorry for your kids," and walked away. Funny enough, a couple of months ago, I saw him still driving the trolley. REAL temporary.
So, those were the four included in my quiz. Here's the REALLY bad part. There were only four put there because that is all the options Testriffic would allow. Here are some others that could have been in the running:
1) I went to lunch with a guy that couldn't carry on an interesting conversation to save his life. He had just bought a house, and since I owned my condo at the time, he felt that was our common connection apparently. He talked endlessly about how he couldn't get grass to grow in his yard and how frustrating it was. I tried topic after topic to change the conversation to something else, but the grass had consumed him. We just kept coming back to that.
2) I went out on a date with a guy named Leroy. That should be enough said. When we first met, he told me he was a police officer. On the date, it came out that he was a reserve police officer and spent most of his time as the dog catcher.
3) After the shower guy, I went out on a couple dates with this guy that, at 24 years old, was THE. WORST. KISSER. EVER. It was disgusting. He had brought a DVD over to watch, and started trying to kiss me at the end. He pretty much just wanted to park his tongue in my mouth and not move, but it was so stiff it was like a piece of plywood. Sitting there. EW. Here were the thoughts I can remember going through my head: "How long do I have to let this go on before I tell him I'm really tired and he needs to leave," (even though I wasn't the slightest bit tired) and since I was trying to get him to move his tongue, but to no avail, "Jesus, I wonder if he thinks I'm the bad kisser?" I pushed that one aside and went on with my fake tired act. Shel suggested that maybe I should be nice and try to explain to him the problem to help him in the future. I said I'm not that nice.
OK, this is certainly long enough. I should end with that.
No comments:
Post a Comment