Adventures in Dating

What follows is a cautionary tale in accepting random dates. Your mileage might vary.

I had planned on a quiet night at home with the dog, catching up on magazines, television shows and general laziness. This, for me, is the perk of single life - no accounting to anyone for my slugliness. I took Darbs to Greenlake around 4pm, as I needed an adrenaline rush, and the weather is too nice not to get outside.

Darbs is this weird attention getting dog. She has this expression when we walk that closely resembles a smile, so she garners looks of amusement. Because we do the random sprint thing (we sprint every quarter of a mile), she can get very excited and animated. Also, she is the most adorable dog on the planet, but whatever your head.

In any event, I saw this guy running around the lake and immediately noticed his shirt (certain university) and that he was into his music (mouthing the words). He was really cute, so I made eye contact and smiled. Long story short, he ended up backtracking and we jogged for about a mile. He asked me if I had dinner plans and I told him that I had planned to cook a few meals for the week, but could be persuaded.

Big fucking mistake. I agreed to go to dinner with him. He picked me up (another big mistake, as I usually don't reveal my address) and dinner was, quite frankly, horrible. He works in an industry I cannot stand, is smugly self-important about that, We had nothing in common, pop culture-wise (he loved Spiderman 3 and hates the Academy awards because they "reward the liberal directors who think the public wants to watch their overdramatic bullshit") and was generally offensive to the service staff. Bitched about the food ("I could learn to make this" was my favorite line), bitched about foodies and winos (hello, am both), and went on this weird rant about single women in Seattle being too "independent."

Yes. It was that bad. I was texting under the table and under the influence to anyone I could think of. I firmed up dinner plans for tomorrow night with the brother and the pea. I texted my sister, who implored me to stay the course and not flee to a cab. I excused myself to the restroom, where I returned said texts and made phone calls. I strongly contemplated fleeing out the back exit.

Instead, I returned to the table, tried again to initiate a decent conversation, and, upon realizing this was a futile battle, just gave up. "Hey, Greenlake Guy? we're not a match in any universe, and I am going to just cab it home." He seemed genuinely shocked and said "oh, you are one of those women that have to reject before you are rejected."

Yeah. That went over well. I said, "no, that isn't how I roll, but I think this night is over. Thank you for inviting me to dinner, it was lovely, and I have the tip, but I am leaving. Thank you for the invitation and the initiative."

I shit you not. He yelled at me as I left, calling me a "fucking self-righteous bitch who is probably a fucking dyke." I told him that I would prefer eating box to anything with him, so I thing we can surmise that this relationship is done.

Unreal.