Despite last weekend's dating debacle, I decided to jump back on the horse and try it again.
Yeah I know. I'm insane. Whatever.
Anyway, I wink at a guy online who seems witty and mostly normal (I say mostly normal because everyone on a dating site has to be at least somewhat abnormal just like me). He messages me and we exchange a few emails back and forth. We make a date for Saturday and exchange numbers, leaving it that he will be in touch with me on Saturday.
So Saturday rolls around and I do my thing, errands and such, hop into the shower around 2 to give myself plenty of time to be ready in case he wants to do dinner. I do my hair, my nails, makeup, etc.
Then I wait.
Finally at 6:30 when I haven't heard from him, I give up and throw my pajamas on and settle in for an evening on the couch with my cats and my DVR. Cue Celine Dion's "All By Myself."
At 7:45 he texts, asking if I'm around. Obviously I'm annoyed, but figure, what the hell, I've already gotten pretty, sure let's meet up. Thinking he would come meet me in my town of residence, I half heartedly suggest meeting halfway (waiting for the "no no, I will come to you") which obviously was stupid of me. He says "oh that sounds like Boston then!" What? No. I go along with it even though the last thing I want to be doing is driving into Boston on a Saturday night. I know, this makes me sound so old and fuddy-duddyish but what can I say? Going into the city when you live in the suburbs is a fucking hassle.
Then he suggests a divey sports bar in the hardest neighborhood to park in in the ENTIRE CITY.
Great first date suggest, slick. Sure, fine. Meet you there at 8:30.
After going five rounds in the only parking garage within ten blocks of the bar, I finally snag a spot, walk a mile to the damn bar and stand outside.
In the meantime, an obese man in a fedora tried to pick me up as I was waiting. Lucky me.
Finally at 8:45, I get a text saying he is running late but that he will be there in less than ten. First date and he is a half hour late. So far he is 0-3.
He finally arrives, dressed like an overgrown child (shorts, a t-shirt that is too small and a Red Sox starter jacket that he tells me is "vintage.") Ok, I guess I can overlook all this.
We sit down at a table and order a few beers. It becomes increasingly obvious to me that this guy is Boston trash. Think Whitey Bulger's nephew or something.100% Irish, with Boston sports teams tattoos, thick accent, the affinity for calling women "broads," and a hatred for Jews. He apparently also loved women with tattoos and large breasts since he couldn't stop commenting how hot the bartender was. And oh by the way....even though his profile said he didn't smoke, he was a drinking smoker, heading outside throughout the night to satisfy his habit.
Since I can appreciate all kinds of people and he was at least entertaining, I thought to myself, I'm going to ride this night out, shoot the shit with this loser, and get drunk on his dime. And I proceeded to do just that.
Apparently at one point, I had some schmutz on my chin when I came back from the bathroom, and the idiot had the balls to say that I popped a pimple for him (which I didn't, it was just some schmutz) and then proceeded to continue to bring that up repeatedly throughout the night. Clearly he thought it was sweet that I would pop a pimple just for him.
In addition, one of the times he went outside to smoke, a 23 year old kid came over to ask me if I would have sex with him. As flattering as that offer was, I declined. I would rethink this later on as it was clearly the better option since he at least was wearing a shirt that fit.
Anyway, we closed the bar and thankfully started heading down the street to what I thought was my car. He grabbed my hand to hold and I allowed it, thinking we would get to my car, do the awkward hug thing and I would be on my way, never having to see him again. Unfortunately, he had other plans. He asked me to walk with him to Copley Square to hang out for a few minutes. I wasn't feeling threatened or anything and as I said, he was at least entertaining, so I agreed.
On the way to Copley he was obviously drunk and decided to start heckling some people waiting outside the Apple store for their iPhone 5. A few other toolboxes chime in and the next thing I know they are making fun of people who are obsessed with technology, laughing it up, high fiving, etc. as I look on in annoyance.
We sat by the fountain in Copley just chatting away when he turns to me, says "fuck it" and comes flying in for a kiss that I was totally not expecting. And it was a sloppy, junior high kiss, with a lot of teeth and tongue. I instantly recoiled and shoved him away. At this point, I knew it was time to go home. He practically begged me to stay, to which I declined of course. He then asks if he totally screwed things up because he wanted to see me again. I was like....don't call me, I'll call you!!!! He apologized for his aggressive behavior and I just waved and walked away.
Second worst date ever.