I went on a date last night.
Except you could hardly call it a date. I met this guy online (I hate meeting guys online), and he seemed cool and funny and his photo didn’t make him look like a serial killer rapist, so we decided to meet. He wanted to meet at the movies. WHO wants to go to the movies on a first date? I don’t mean dinner and a movie. I mean only a movie. You can’t talk. You can barely see each other. You’re trapped for at least two hours with no alcohol. It’s possibly the worst first-date venue I can think of. And that should have been my sign to stand him up.
But did I stand him up? Of course not. I went to the movie theater and waited, and waited, and waited. Finally, I got a text from the guy saying he was inside, and to buy a ticket and meet him at the concession stand.
“For what movie?” I texted.
“Oh, anything,” he texted back. WHY DIDN’T I LEAVE RIGHT THEN?
So I bought a ticket for “anything” and met him at the concession stand. He was pretty good-looking in person, I’ll admit. He’s tall (I have a thing for tall) and has these amazing forearms (his shirtsleeves were rolled up) and is a good dresser. He was clean and hygenic. This is all more impressive than the last five dates I’ve been on, so I was hopeful.
“Hi, Jeff?” I walked up to him.
And then he said, “Lulu*! So good to see you!” And then he bought me a big tub of popcorn and asked me which movie I wanted to see. He said he wanted to see this ridiculous action movie first, but he’d “treat me” to a double feature, meaning we would sneak in after the movie was over. Uh, okay?
And then we got to the theater and sat down and do you know what he did? First he pulled a flask out of his nice, tailored pants and took a very big swig of it. Then he wiped his mouth and offered it to me. I (politely) declined, so then he put it back in his pants and then he put his arm around me (!) and THEN HE LEANED OVER AND GROPED ME AND KISSED ME WITH HIS DISGUSTING WHISKEY BREATH.
And that is when I got up and left.
It’s like the world is against me. And honestly? This guy was like, an eight out of ten compared to the other guys I’ve met.
When I was telling my coworker Sandy about this (she knows about my gigantic crush on Boss), she said that I was “too picky” and that’s why I’m single. FOR REAL. She said, “At least he was hygenic! And he bought you popcorn!” Right. Who cares if he sexually assaulted me and was drunk in public? I could probably live with that in a marriage. Is it any wonder that Sandy is married to a loser? But hey! She’s married! She’s not even the real loser in the situation. No, it’s me, who’s TOO PICKY.
I was so annoyed by Sandy, and by stupid men, and by Boss looking all perfect and smiling and bringing me a doughnut and black coffee this morning (he knows my favorite kind of doughnut! And how I take my coffee!) that I went out to the loading dock in the back of our building. I really could not handle any more Sandy or Boss or sales calls, so I sat on the back dock where smokers used to hang out before they put up those “No smoking within 25 feet of this entrance” signs, so now it’s blissfully empty.
I just sat and watched the workers unloading boxes from the back of trucks into those big canvas carts, and I had about thirty seconds of actual peace and was feeling zen enough to deal with Sandy when of course someone comes up and starts smoking. He started smoking RIGHT IN FRONT of the no smoking sign. Of course he did. I’ve seen this guy around in the cafeteria before. He’s always sitting by himself and eating a sandwich and looking all hipster-smug in his big black glasses and his beard and his jeans, and reading some annoying thing by Sartre or Chekhov or something. I don’t know what it is about him, but he’s just so….so….ugh.
So there was this smug guy ruining my zen, smoking right next to me and ignoring me completely. Who even smokes anymore? I hate smoking, and smokers. Seriously, it’s one thing to smoke when you don’t know the consequences, but people now know it’s going to give them cancer and they’re putting cancer sticks in their mouths and WHY DOES ANYONE SMOKE ANYMORE? So I got up quietly and shot this guy a dirty look and was about to go in when he said, “What, you’re not staying for my conversation OR my good looks?”
Yeah, that’s been my day so far. At least it’s Friday and I have all weekend to do things single women do, like read romance novels and snuggle up to my twelve cats and knit an afghan for other people’s kids** while dreaming about Boss.
*My name’s not really Lulu.
**I don’t do any of these things. I have a dog, not cats. I can’t knit. I’m not sure what an afghan even is. I like fantasy novels, not romance. But the dreaming about Boss? Yeah, I’ll probably do that one.