Date # 12 WTF?
So I had emailed this dude about canceling plans for the night. It was Friday, and come Friday, I’m tired and my brains don’t be working so good. All I wanted to do was come home, smoke weed and get some pizza.
But noooooooo. Whiny McWhinepants insisted I come out, since he was wearing a fabulous suit.
Since he was witty I caved and agreed to meet him at Blue Water Grill. He repeatedly refused to meet me somewhere in the middle. He even offered to pay my cab fare both ways, which I refused. He also offered for me to come to his place and order takeout.
Completely rational request from a complete stranger.
What the fuck?
Really dude? You can’t leave your hood? I’m not even asking you to come to Brooklyn.
He had also offered to have my drink waiting, and I told him I’d cut him if he roofied me.
I arrived, grabbed a corner table in the bar and ordered the prosecco. Joint was too swanky for my taste, but so what? I’m not that picky. Nor was I paying.
I saw a man in a suit at the bar that might have been him, but I hoped not so I didn’t smile. He was talking to a woman so I figured not.
It was him.
He comes over, we introduce awkwardly. At one point I notice him noticing my crossed-arm-body language and rearranged myself. He did have on a nice suit, with enameled shark cufflinks. Adorable. Then he launched into a story about how he was going to cancel the date because his sister did something stupid and ended up in the hospital, but felt he couldn’t since he gave me so much crap earlier.
Awesome. Force me to make an hour commute in the freezing cold to see you for 10 minutes. Better solution.
I slammed my prosecco and asked for the check.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m totally understanding about the family situation. It was my suggestion that I leave and he go to the hospital.
But then he had the nerve to ask me to come back at 11. Couldn’t make the concession to come to me after screwing me over? No thank you.
I left, drunk.
I grabbed some pizza, smoked some ganja, and passed out.
Fish, fish, I got my wish.
