Tag Archives: bad date

Ignoring Signs Leads to Disappointment

19 Jun

I had a date tonight. My date was with Ivan, a guy I knew while student teaching. I ran into him two nights in a row a couple of weekends ago, and we exchanged numbers. I had high hopes for this date: we are both into education, I had a mini-crush on him while we were in college, and he is appropriate for me to date (meaning he isn’t friends with my ex, I don’t work with him, he hasn’t hooked up with one of my friends, and he isn’t the captain of my softball team).

 The date was lukewarm, at best. I should have known better, too. All of the signs were there, but I am a kind, forgiving person so I ignored them.

Ivan sent me a text around 8:40 on Friday night asking me if I would like to grab a drink. I didn’t respond to the text since I was eating dinner with Leo (more about him in another post). About an hour later he sent me another text saying “Some other time hopefully. lol” I responded with a quick “for sure!” text, and he sent me a smiley face.

(By the way, am I the only one who finds it annoying when people put “LOL” after things that shouldn’t make them laugh out loud? Are they really laughing out loud, or is that just a way of conveying a carefree tone? I use smiley faces for that. Everyone likes a smiley face. LOL’s are just stupid.)

I sent Ivan a text today asking him how his weekend was. Usually, I like to wait for a guy to text me first, but since I was a bit unreachable on Friday (and because Leo is becoming slightly relationshipy) I decided to text him to let him know that I was still interested. Ivan responded to my text right away, and he wanted to do dinner tonight but I had already eaten by the time I texted him.

We agreed to do drinks (via text. HELLO, Daisy! Steve Harvey would not approve), and I met him at the same bar that I went to with Mark, my first date after The Breakup and the guy who was already drunk when I met him at the bar. I think that bar is just not a good first date bar. I’ll have to remember that in the future.

Perhaps we could be friends.

Ivan showed up a little late, and he was very laid back during the entire date. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate laid back guys, but this guy was wearing flip-flops with ripped jeans and a polo shirt. This might work for some guys, but I felt as if I put much more thought and effort into my outfit than he did, and it only took me thirty minutes to get ready for the date. Including a shower.

We had some good conversations, but I just didn’t feel the spark. I had two drinks, Ivan had three, and he volunteered to pay for the drinks at the end of the night. Then he threw fifty bucks on the table for our bill that was forty-six dollars and some change, and he promptly left for the bathroom. While he was gone, I paid for my drinks and left the remainder of his cash as a tip.

Regardless of the poor tip and the lack of butterflies, I was still open to a second date with Ivan until he asked me for a ride home. Sound familiar? Mark asked me for a ride home, too. I’m telling you, this bar is cursed for first dates.

You need a ride? Really?

I agreed to drive Ivan home partially because we were friends in college, but also because he would have been stranded at the bar had I refused. On the drive home I realized that he was drunk (I don’t know if he had drinks before our date, but based on his behavior and body language I think he had), and he explained to me that he was letting his mom borrow his car while hers is in the shop. That is honorable and all, but he shouldn’t have asked me out if he didn’t have a car.

Oh, and when I pulled up to his house, he asked me if I would like to come in for a tour. I declined.

In case you missed them (or I didn’t mention them), here are the signs that I so stupidly ignored:

  1. Ivan waited two weeks to text me after getting my number.
  2. He waited until almost 9:00 on a Friday night to ask me out – and he wanted to go out that same night.
  3. When I sent him a text this evening, he wanted to go out tonight, but he took two hours to let me know when and where we would meet. Even after agreeing on a time he was fifteen minutes late (perhaps he was hooking up with someone else before the date, kind of like how I hooked up with Viper before my date with Mark).

Perhaps I am over analyzing the situation, but I am a language arts teacher. That is what I do.

Advertisements

Luck of the Irish

30 Apr

So far, I’ve only been on one date since the breakup. This makes a grand total of four first dates in my life time. Wow.

I met Mark at a brewery on St. Patty’s Day. I wasn’t really looking for a guy at this point, but I wasn’t not looking. Anyway, this brewery is not really a place to meet people, but it was a good place to go watch the game and drink green beer with my girlfriends.

I noticed that a guy kept smiling at me from the next table, so I started smiling back (I just learned last week that this is referred to as “eye fucking.” I’ve been told I need to practice). He finally started talking to me, and I gave him my number at the end of the night. He called me in the parking lot before I had even gotten into the car. Is that cute, or creepy? I need help deciphering these things.

We had boring text conversations for about a week. I’m not kidding, his texts were awful. He always sent good morning texts, but they consistently looked like this: “goodmorning.” He would also send text messages that said, “Hi……” I mean, how many dots do you need? Three make an ellipsis, but six? Six make you an idiot…or a twelve-year-old.

I teach language arts. Poor grammar is a major turn off. Looking back, his texts should have been a deal breaker; but I was horny and feeling guilty about sleeping with Max so my standards were lower than they should have been.

The “Date”

I agreed to have dinner with him on Friday, and we made plans to meet at one of the fanciest, most expensive restaurants in town. I decided that I misjudged the guy. I mean, not everyone teaches language arts.

I was driving home from work on Friday when I got a text from Mark explaining that he had a meeting in the next town over so he may not be able to make our date, but he would let me know closer to seven. Seriously? We were supposed to meet at the freaking Chop House. I was going to shower, do my hair, do my nails, and shave my legs for goodness sake. I didn’t want to go through all that trouble for a maybe. I told him that we would just reschedule, but secretly I wasn’t planning on talking to this guy again in my life.

In the Breakup War, I’m Winning

The following day I had plans to see The Hunger Games with a friend. In the middle of the movie, I got a phone call from a number I didn’t recognize. It turns out with was The Ex’s brother calling to say he was in my area and he wanted to pick up the TV. Needless to say, I was slightly pissed. I had broken up with The Ex six weeks earlier, and if he wanted to take the TV he should have done so when he moved out.

I decided to let The Brother take the TV without a fight, but I did go out and buy a newer, better TV before relinquishing the old one. I also made The Brother carry my new TV into my apartment for me before he carried the old TV out. It felt great.

I think I agreed to meet Mark for drinks that night because I wanted to prove that I was winning the post-breakup up competition. I was also very nervous to start dating, and since I didn’t really care if things worked out with Mark one way or the other he would be a good gateway date.

Hi, I’m An Alcoholic

I was supposed to meet Mark at the bar at 8:30, but I was about fifteen minutes late (it was totally worth it, but that’ll have to be a different post). As I leaned in to hug him, I could smell the alcohol on his breath. He flagged down the server and ordered another cherry vodka and Red Bull, but the glass was about ¾ full of vodka with only a splash of Red Bull. He had about four of these over the course of our date, and he admitted to drinking before coming to the bar too. Normally, that wouldn’t bother me, but he had to have his brother drop him off at the bar. Needless to say, the date was awful.

Mark invited me to drive him back to his house to play pool, so I sent a 911 text to my friend, and she called me with a crisis. I was very grateful to crawl into my bed when I got home. Poor, clueless Mark called me twice and sent me about five more texts over the next two weeks before he finally got the hint.

I don’t know about this dating thing right now…casual sex sounds much more fun.