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Anatomy of Date: After.
Womp womp. My date turned out to be a pretty big dud., which is semi-surprising because of his prowess at keeping the virtual conversation flowing.
He was all of those factual things I knew about him going in, so it’s good to know I didn’t get majorly Catfished or anything, but he lacked any … enthusiasm. He showed now real interest in conversation, interest in himself or interest in proper dining etiquette. So … there’s that.
I arrived.
I showed up, made a lap of the bar/restaurant, and upon not seeing him or anyone who looked like they were waiting for me, I sat down. About 10 minutes late, he showed up in cargo pants. Now, I’m all for the functionality of a good cargo, but between that and his unkempt hair, I felt an immediate distaste. I definitely should have rethought those heeled booties … both because I felt over-dressed (unnecessarily, because I looked, as the Brits would say, smart) and because he was about 5-foot-4.
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We covered the bulk of small-talk conversations from jobs, to hobbies to “what are you going to order.” Some parts went smoothly, others had awkward silences. We toughed it out for two rounds of beers and some appetizers, which he ate like he was a T-Rex with only his little, dextrous hands and barely opposable thumbs. It was quite off-putting. Frankly, I expected more out of an East Coaster.
As we were wrapping up our last drink, the place started its trivia night, which generously helped our conversation for the last 10 minutes or so. Until he got super upset that I debunked his belief that humans actually have blue blood. I am not exactly a competitive person, so you can imagine I phrased it much like “I’m pretty sure I saw on Mythbusters—because their word is oak—that that’s not true.” Upon Googling to see if I was correct, he became a bit of a pouty loser.
My 2 beers + food = your 2 beers + food, no?
The bill came, and we each threw out a credit card. I was not expecting him to pay, but I will say, since I’m being honest, it did feel a bit negative that he didn’t even consider it. And when he followed that with “How do you wanna do this?” I just sort of rolled my eyes. Obviously, we are splitting it. I know Cali’s pissed off a lot of people with her thoughts on who pays, but now matter how you swing it, the penny-pinching minutia over who pays for a date or how you split the bill makes a girl’s vagina go dry.
Oh, and it turns out he lives in Bird Rock, not PB; he just didn’t know the difference. While that was exciting to find out, that was really the only exciting part of the night. I’m losing my touch at picking winners on Tinder. Oy.
Where are all the interesting men hiding?