So I am back here, blogging again. I am not sure if it is therapeutic, but I wanted to start blogging about some of my many entertaining, if not borderline absurd, dating experiences. Take exhibit A:
This particular specimen, (we'll call him Gecko), had eyes which refused to stay still. I sat, bewildered and submissive, on a park bench adjacent to his body. He had a decent frame, lithe, clad in apparel he assured me he had designed from stratch. No biggie, he just happened to own his own little clothing company and apparently invented those anti-Bush t-shirts. You know, the ones with the No Smoking sign across Bush's head. So anyways, he keeps spewing out words and spit, words and spit, to no end. Does he ask me what I do? If I would like to move spots, as we are seated across from a couple playing an impressive game of tonsil hockey and a man counting the bread crumbs he threw to the Pigeons. No. He kept going and going. Was he on uppers? Hell if I know, but it wouldn't surprise me. So, Gecko's eyes are insane, flicking like a lizard's tongue in every direction possible. I didn't know the human pupil was capable of rotating in 360 degrees, but trust me, Gecko Boy's eyes could. And did. So I spent two full hours pretending to listen to a man who refused to make eye contact and had the uncanny ability to move his eyeballs with every syllable he uttered. He also licked his lips at random intervals during this entire time. Half Lizard? I think so.
Then there was specimen B. We'll call him Stupid. Anyways, Stupid was a self-proclaimed venture capitalist who worked in some software thing or another. He decided seeing the animated Star Wars feature was a good idea, so I agreed to meet him there. He was late, by more than a few minutes, and made quite an entrance, dashing down the aisle, POM glass in hand. Excitedly, he told me he had his friend's perfectly aged whisky in the class and was stoked about drinking in public. Before the little yellow film reel man danced onto the stage, he shouted that he loved to talk as loudly as possible during movies to see how much he could bother people. The more irritated they became, the better. I kid you not, these are direct quotes. I was scared of getting date-raped in a Loews theater, so I made him taste the whisky before taking a tiny swig. It sucked. I'm not a whisky drinker, but it was stale and brutal. I tried my best to mentally, physically (he stunk) and emotionally block him out during the movie. We then proceeded to go to a winebar where he did not have enough money for the beer flight and side of mashed potatoes he ordered and mooched off me, and also had the nerve to call me stupid when I told him I cancelled my travel plans after my friend bailed on me. Who the hell wants to go to a foreign country without anyone to share it with, no contacts and no itinerary? Well, maybe you adventurous folks, beg to differ. It could be a blast, wild, insane, life-altering, a ten-day-long-epiphany. But, because I value my sanity, my parent's well earned frequent flyer miles, my penchant for panic attacks on long ass plane rides to destination knowing no one and my time, I opted to not go. Stupid had the nerve to call me stupid because of cancelling these travel plans. Needless to say, I did not pull any amazing Carrie Bradshaw move, of throwing my glass in his face or dramatically running out of the winebar. I just sat, mildly innebriated and most definitely pensive, and defended my reasoning. Oh well. Maybe I suck at life, but since then I have called people out whenever they call me stupid, senseless, dumb, or all of those good words.
