My vagina made me do it.

The place he had suggested was shut down by the Health Department, so we ended up at Beauty Bar. Upon entrance, I knew I didn’t hide my disappointment. He had a very large head and a tiny body. He honestly looked like the little person on that episode of the Golden Girls.  You know, the one Rose got dumped by for not being Jewish.

But still. I regained my composure and headed over. I had a glass of red wine. Don’t remember what he had, though I ordered him another. We chatted. There was clearly nothing there. He made me more nervous as the night wore on. His hands shook like nothing I’d seen outside of the nursing home I worked at in my teens. He had 2 cigarettes in the course of an hour.

I’m pretty sure his profile said non-smoking.

I already have this ‘limited filter’ situation going on, but I decided to let loose the crazy.

I emotionally vomited all over him. Nothing says “baggage” bolder than a tale of daddy issues culminating in a lack of sympathy for terminal prostate cancer, as well as my disdain for addictive personalities. (This is what brought up his heroin addiction.)

Another fact not listed on his profile.

We had previously discussed via email how it goes down if we don’t like each other. (This was my first date after all.) He told me we just don’t email each other again. And it’s pretty clear when there’s no connection.

Knowing all this, he excused himself from our date because he had to ‘get his papers in order for his accountant the next morning.’

Because junkies tend to be meticulous about their taxes.