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Date night with Char...
Friday night date:
So I went on a date with a guy (Jerome) I met last Friday. I met him in a Jazz bar, not saying that I'm a jazz enthusiast, more like a neophyte. He was 27, played the baritone sax, and had the most luscious lips...L.L. Cool J or Chord Overstreet lips. So we met up in at a small, extremely warm, Italian/Mediterranean restaurant. As I sat there sweating lightly and listening to his stories about being a consultant/saxophonist, it became clear that it wasn't going to work. We had absolutely nothing in common and I decided to finish dinner and end the date asap.
Unfortunately, that was ample time for him to astound me with his bizarre and creepy stories. Early in the date, he started pushing me to see his apartment in the city. He apparently lived in the Back Bay area in Boston. I demurred and declined to lie saying that I had a lot of homework to do on Saturday. Still not deterred, he continued to spin the story on an idyllic life working as a consultant by day and a skilled jazz musician by night. It was basically an interview with drinks with me nodding my head and saying things like "Oh, that's nice" or "Wow...amazing".
I tuned out for most of the meal. I've never focused so hard on eating scallops and carbonara. I really hate conceited people with serious narcissus complex, its like I should be grateful for basking in his glory. I was counting the seconds pondering why the service was so slow. I swear when I made eye contact with a waiter (not the same one serving us), he knew the guy I was dating and felt genuinely sorry for me. So before the waiter could rescue me, I tuned back into the story. The story had taken a darker turn. It involved a dog, a butcher's knife, some angry shouting, and some kind of discipline of keep the dog from barking. Slowly, it dawned on me that his story would end with "...and that's why I have a warrant out for my arrest." Sure enough, he finished the story with a line about his trials with the law. After that, he reverted to trying to convince me to accompany him to his place.
63 minutes, 35 seconds. The date lasted that long and it should have taken me 35 seconds to realize I should have bailed before we got seated. The waiter who rescued me came over and thankfully did not ask if we wanted dessert! If this was a taylor swift song, the waiter was my white knight saving me from a shit storm of a date. The lesson I learned from this: have an exit strategy/route at all times.
After the dinner, I told him I was going to hail a cab back into to the train station and not to worry about me. Obviously I just wanted to get away from him and I actually stayed behind and grabbed a couple of drinks to cool off. Later that night, the waiter who saved me (Luke) told me about who I just had dinner with. He was pleased that I did not join him for his "apartment viewing" because according to him, "the view might be nice, but you'll be thinking about jumping off the balcony."
I relaxed in the bar for the rest of the night talking with Luke and we recounted tales of horrible dates. I found that he is currently a BU grad student, has an affinity for country and alternative rock, and got all my drinks for free. We ended the night by strolling the cold streets of Boston talking about everything (politics, religion, and economics included...he was really really smart). I ended the night around 2 in the morning totally satisfied that my suck ass date culminated in meeting Luke.
For those who know me or have dirty minds, No! I did not have sexual relations with him. However, when I do plan on returning to Boston and surprise him. Thus ends the tale of how horrible dates can end with meeting a great guy.
Peace & Funk,
Char
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So I went on a date with a guy (Jerome) I met last Friday. I met him in a Jazz bar, not saying that I'm a jazz enthusiast, more like a neophyte. He was 27, played the baritone sax, and had the most luscious lips...L.L. Cool J or Chord Overstreet lips. So we met up in at a small, extremely warm, Italian/Mediterranean restaurant. As I sat there sweating lightly and listening to his stories about being a consultant/saxophonist, it became clear that it wasn't going to work. We had absolutely nothing in common and I decided to finish dinner and end the date asap.
Unfortunately, that was ample time for him to astound me with his bizarre and creepy stories. Early in the date, he started pushing me to see his apartment in the city. He apparently lived in the Back Bay area in Boston. I demurred and declined to lie saying that I had a lot of homework to do on Saturday. Still not deterred, he continued to spin the story on an idyllic life working as a consultant by day and a skilled jazz musician by night. It was basically an interview with drinks with me nodding my head and saying things like "Oh, that's nice" or "Wow...amazing".
I tuned out for most of the meal. I've never focused so hard on eating scallops and carbonara. I really hate conceited people with serious narcissus complex, its like I should be grateful for basking in his glory. I was counting the seconds pondering why the service was so slow. I swear when I made eye contact with a waiter (not the same one serving us), he knew the guy I was dating and felt genuinely sorry for me. So before the waiter could rescue me, I tuned back into the story. The story had taken a darker turn. It involved a dog, a butcher's knife, some angry shouting, and some kind of discipline of keep the dog from barking. Slowly, it dawned on me that his story would end with "...and that's why I have a warrant out for my arrest." Sure enough, he finished the story with a line about his trials with the law. After that, he reverted to trying to convince me to accompany him to his place.
63 minutes, 35 seconds. The date lasted that long and it should have taken me 35 seconds to realize I should have bailed before we got seated. The waiter who rescued me came over and thankfully did not ask if we wanted dessert! If this was a taylor swift song, the waiter was my white knight saving me from a shit storm of a date. The lesson I learned from this: have an exit strategy/route at all times.
After the dinner, I told him I was going to hail a cab back into to the train station and not to worry about me. Obviously I just wanted to get away from him and I actually stayed behind and grabbed a couple of drinks to cool off. Later that night, the waiter who saved me (Luke) told me about who I just had dinner with. He was pleased that I did not join him for his "apartment viewing" because according to him, "the view might be nice, but you'll be thinking about jumping off the balcony."
I relaxed in the bar for the rest of the night talking with Luke and we recounted tales of horrible dates. I found that he is currently a BU grad student, has an affinity for country and alternative rock, and got all my drinks for free. We ended the night by strolling the cold streets of Boston talking about everything (politics, religion, and economics included...he was really really smart). I ended the night around 2 in the morning totally satisfied that my suck ass date culminated in meeting Luke.
For those who know me or have dirty minds, No! I did not have sexual relations with him. However, when I do plan on returning to Boston and surprise him. Thus ends the tale of how horrible dates can end with meeting a great guy.
Peace & Funk,
Char
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