Blogs: Dating Duds

Jul 17, 2007 3:08pm

I thought it was a little weird that this guy wanted to meet at his house. I mean, everyone knows that when you meet someone online you are supposed to meet in a well-lit, public place that your friends have already been warned in advance that if you go missing, that was the last place you were seen alive. So I told him thanks but no thanks, I’d meet him at the restaurant.

“I’m sorry,” he explained, it’s just that I am very proud of my house, and I like to show it off. I’ll show it to you another time.”

That seemed like a good explanation to me. It’s nice to have something worth showing off. Nicer than some of the roach-infested bachelor pads I’ve seen in the past. Besides, I figured if things went well, and so far it seemed like things were headed that way, I’d see it sooner or later.

Sooner or later ended up being later on that night. After dinner, when he invited me over for a nightcap. Dinner went great, even if he did pay with a coupon. He told me how much he loved his career as an electrician. He was nice, funny, and a great conversationalist. Afterward we popped into the liquor store next door for a bottle of wine. He said he knew everyone who worked there and they always gave him a discount, but when it was our turn to pay, they rang him up the same as everyone else. He also took a penny out of the Take a Penny/Leave a Penny box on the counter when he came up short for the wine, which made me wonder why he didn’t just pay with a card. By then, I was having some reservations about going to his place, but I’d already said I’d check the place out, and I didn’t want to be rude.

His house was everything he said it was, and more. There was even a hot tub and a huge sunroom. “Wow, do you own your own company or something?” I asked, because I couldn’t believe an electrician who used coupons and took a penny instead of leaving a penny could afford a place like that. I mean, I know there are a lot of blue collar guys who do really well, but this place was a palace. I was very impressed, considering the fact that you could fit my entire apartment in virtually any room of the house.

“Actually,” he said, “I’m between jobs right now. I get a great deal on the place because I know the owners.”

When I pinned him down as to exactly how he knew the owners, he finally admitted that they are his parents.

He had his own room, but I declined to see it.

May 30, 2007 10:29am

I have a major competitive streak. In fact, if someone held a contest to determine who was the most competitive person around, I would totally kick their butt and win the title. I was telling my latest Internet date about this in an e-mail when he made the mistake to challenging me to a contest. Air hockey. Ha! I thought. That’s an easy one. Men always think that because they are men that they’re better at certain things than women are, especially things like air hockey, so I decided that when I mercilessly defeated him, I would not be doing it merely for myself, but also for the good of all womankind. You know, to prove that we are equals in every way. So I agreed to meet him at a local sports bar.

Okay, so maybe I did get a little overzealous. I’ll admit, the reason everyone ended up crowded around the air hockey table probably had more than a little bit to do with my yelling, “Yes!!!” and jumping up and down every time I scored. And yes, I did get a little show-offy. Maybe just a tad. By then I was so far ahead, score-wise, that the game was as good as won, and all the rest of it was grandstanding. But I just couldn’t resist that behind my back with my eyes closed maneuver. It would really emphasize the point that not only could I beat him, but I could easily beat him, even though I’m a girl. And to really drive that point home, I drove that puck into the goal extra-hard. So hard, that I missed the goal and I smacked him in the finger.

I said I was sorry. I bought him a beer. He said he would call me the next day. He never did.

I e-mailed him a week later and I asked him why. He said he couldn’t call, as his dialing finger was broken. I broke his finger.

Oops.

May 14, 2007 2:12pm

One of my girlfriends said the problem might be that I'm being too picky and I don't realize it, but I wonder, am I being too picky? I mean, yes, he was cute, but no, cuteness does not excuse the fact that he made me pretend that it was my birthday so he wouldn't have to pay for my meal.

When the waitress asked if we wanted anything to drink, he said we'd each take a water, then he told her it was my birthday. It wasn't my birthday, and I told her so. "Quit being such a kidder!" he said to me, then he told the waitress, "She's just being shy because she's afraid you'll sing at our table." But I wasn't being shy, and it WASN'T my birthday.

When the waitress walked away, I told him so. "I know it's not your birthday," he said, "but this restaurant gives you a free meal on your birthday." Did I already mention that he was cute? Well, he was, and that's the only explanation I can think of now as to why I didn't just get up and leave right then. I told myself maybe I was just being picky, like my friend said I might be, so instead of leaving I called the waitress back over and ordered a margarita. It was, after all, my birthday, so a celebratory drink was in order. "Margaritas cost seven dollars," my date informed me.

"Mmmm…and they're worth every penny of it!" I replied, but I was pretty sure he didn't agree.

For dinner I ordered chicken fajitas. "Actually," my date said, "she doesn't want the fajitas after all."

"I don't?" I asked.

"No, she'll take the Combo Especial," he told the waitress, then he leaned over and warned me that fajitas aren't on the free birthday menu.

While I was eating my free Combo Especial, the entire waitstaff gathered around our table to sing me their restaurant's version of the birthday song. After the meal was over, the waitress said, "Okay, now if you'll just give me your ID so I can show it to the manager for the birthday discount, I'll go ahead and get you your check." It was at that moment that I realized my girlfriend was wrong. I am definitely not too picky. In fact, after that night, I am starting to wonder, am I picky enough?