Date # 2: Fucking Bacon
This guy was in marketing. I knew I didn’t find him attractive, but he was so funny that I wanted to meet him anyway, in hopes that maybe I wasn’t completely shallow. We tried to go to Frankie’s 457, but they only had outdoor seating and the fool didn’t bring a coat. I hate being cold, and he was small and thin and already freezing. I didn’t want him to be uncomfy, so we opted for another place.
We went to Buttermilk Channel in Carroll Gardens.
I had a couple glasses of Prosecco, since I was somewhat nervous, and am a bit of a drunk. We had a great time, laughing and joking…Until –
He called me a performer.
Fuck that. I may be a performer, but I don’t act like one in my everyday life. (Perhaps the booze had made me a bit more dramatic?)
Let me explain something. I hate actors who walk around like they’re always acting. I know a lot of actors, and I’m lucky that most of the ones I know aren’t like this. But you know those people.
It’s a fucking insult.
Strike one.
I ordered the cheese and squash tart. (Delicious!) He got the ‘smoked almonds.’ He insisted I try them. I did.
It took a few minutes before I could recognize the flavor. It was something I have had before, but not for a long time…
FUCKING BACON!
That asshole tricked me into eating bacon. I’ve been a vegetarian for 10 years. I actually gagged when I swallowed it.
He tried to play it off like he didn’t know they had bacon on them. He’s the one who ordered them! He fucking knew.
I was pissed.
Strike two.
What I eat is my business. I don’t know why meat eaters think it’s sooooo funny to make jokes about eating meat, or trying to make us eat some. I don’t walk around trying to force them to eat shit.
Maybe I should start.
I tried to hide my anger and annoyance, but the date kind of went downhill after that. And when the check came, we each paid for ourselves.
The itemized bill:
2 GL Proseco
2 Hefeweizen
1 Squash Tart
1 Bacon Almonds
You would think he’d offer to pay at this point.
But no.
Strike three.
