I hate dates (not the fruit; that's pretty tasty)

I’ve never been much for dating. Now, don’t get me wrong – before flarf, I was plenty good at finding guys in all places; parties, bars, classrooms, plays at school, walking down the street in strange places, etc. What I mean is, I’ve never been much for dates.

You know – boy asks girl out (or vice versa), boy and girl share a meal and awkward conversation, then perhaps a movie or a stroll and then decide if they can still stand the sight of each other enough to tolerate another round some other night.

I always preferred the getting to know you on a much less formal level, like a parties where drinking is involved or wandering Washington D.C.’s monuments in the middle of the night with a large group of people. Maybe that’s why I always dated so many of my friends.

I’ve only had a handful of real first dates in the traditional sense. And I’ve disliked all of them.

For example, there was…crap, I can’t remember his name…I’ll call him Fred for now. Hopefully my former roomie remembers his name and can tell me. I met the (bad) musician when my roomie and I went to see her friend’s band play at the Grog and Tankard in Georgetown. Fred’s band played earlier in the night and somehow I ended up talking to him at the bar. He wasn’t cute and wasn’t all that charming, but I’m a stupid optimist, so I said sure when he asked me out. The next week, we went to a nondescript restaurant in Georgetown that he thought was fabulous and had a nondescript meal while making painful small talk. I could tell within 15 minutes that I had no interest in continuing this conversation, but then we ran into my flaw – I have a HUGE problem being blunt and/or rude to guys that seem to like me when I don’t like them. I worry about hurting feelings and I have a childish and selfish desire to avoid awkward moments or feeling guilty. So, being the charmer that I am, I continued to make small talk while yawning inside and quietly thinking of ways I could turn the napkins into fun jungle animals. Since we met right after work, dinner was over by 8 and I couldn’t pull the tired card, so the obligatory stroll was in order. We walked down to the river and sat on some concrete while he continued to bore me and I apparently continued to enchant him with my charms. Finally, I was able to get away with the tired/have to go to work tomorrow card (ALWAYS have first dates on weekdays or you’re stuck!) and he offered to drive me home so I wouldn’t have to use the metro. Even though I was bored, you never turn down a free ride home. So, he drove me home and wanted to walk me to my door. Again with the flaw, I let him and then had to come up with a way to make him go away. So, I figured, I’m an actor, I can give him a tiny tongue-less kiss goodnight if it makes him leave. So I did. And luckily, he did. But, apparently despite what I thought was obvious boredom, I left a fantastic impression and he called me for weeks after that. Since I have a problem with the bluntness I tried to be subtle and just start ignoring his calls or always having a reason to get off the phone. Subtly does not work on the stupid. He finally got it when one day I had my roomie yell for me to get off the phone because imaginary friends were at the door. It took weeks. I’m not sure I went on any more dates after him and before the flarf. Thank god for the flarf.

Fred definitely wasn’t my worst date. His name was Kevin and, unlike with Fred, I actually had a crush on him prior to the date (we both worked at the Knick, a concert arena in my hometown – no, I will not call it the Pepsi.). I’ll spare the details of precisely why the date itself was so bad because people’s moms read this sometimes. But he was even worse with the calling than Fred. He didn’t even wait 12 hours after the end the date to call me. He called on a Saturday morning less than 8 hours after dropping me off! Physchopath… Who does that??? He then proceeded to call me for MONTHS!!!! Not weeks; MONTHS! He liked to call and watch Jeopardy with me. I ended up having my mom always answer the phone and tell him I wasn’t there. Apparently subtly doesn’t work on the crazy either. After he had finally stopped calling my mom’s house looking for me, I was home the next summer and one of my jobs was in a convenience store and he came in. Which was annoying because he didn’t live anywhere near that store. Well, apparently the sight of me in a crappy t-shirt doling out cigarettes and lottery tickets was enough to rekindle the crazy and he called me all summer that year too. Then I left for a semester in Africa with no phone. Yay for that.

So, whether it’s because I attract the stupid and the crazy or because I can’t be honest when I can’t stand someone, I sucked at dates. Good thing I knew flarf for 5 years before we got together. Although I bet he would have been interested in making jungle animals out of the napkins. He’s just that kind of guy.

Anyone else have good bad date stories?

Important Life Lesson:

You're never too old for Jello shots.