and the kicker is…
“What is your worst online dating story?”
This could be a fun thing to share with your friends and family. Even your co-workers (if you are close to them, as I am). But to be asked this, multiple times, by a potential suitor?
I met someone for coffee this past Saturday afternoon. Let’s call him “Kicks” for two reasons. He was sporting some nifty all-white sneakers with his jeans and golf shirt. And he blatantly tried to kick a pigeon in front of me.
Kicks is the Match guy that called me last week and asked to meet for coffee. Sure, I can do that. So he suggests meeting at a coffeehouse somewhere in my neighborhood. I joke that “it might be difficult to find a Starbucks, but we can certainly try” and laugh at my obvious joke, since there is a Starbucks every few blocks. I admit this isn’t the wittiest of jokes, but I would at least expect a chuckle. Nothing. Dead silence. Cue the crickets. Then he deadpans something like “well, there’s got to be something.” Umm, yes, there’s gotta be someplace to get coffee somewhere. Now I feel like an ass and had to explain that I was just being facetious and that there is in fact a Starbucks where we can meet. Oh, and at some point he asked me about my worst online dating story. I ceased to answer. Boy, am I looking forward to this one!
Now we come to Saturday afternoon. We meet and go into the Starbucks. Of course, this being Starbucks, it’s busy. There’s a line and all of the tables are filled. Kicks instantly makes a comment about how crowded it is and how he hates how people buy only one cup of coffee and sit for 4 hours. I mean, where are we going to sit? Jeez, these people are so selfish! – Oh wait, that’s in his head. My head is thinking, “Oh shit. This here is a real winner and I can’t, I mean just can’t wait to spend some time with him! He’s already showing such charm!” We get up to order our coffee and I insist on picking up the tab. Even though it was just $5, I didn’t want to feel like I *owed* him anything. Not that him buying me a coffee makes me owe him anything, but I hope you get where I’m at.
Anyhoo, we take our coffee to a street in my ‘hood that is only for pedestrian traffic and has benches. There are some pigeons milling around as we approach the bench. I hate pigeons as much or even more than the next guy, but… Kicks actually takes a good swinging kick at them. As I said, I hate the flying rats, but I do not want to see one kicked. Animal cruelty is really high on my list of abhorrent acts. Pigeons fly away, we sit.
Kicks again asks me about my worst dating story. For reals? Didn’t I already tell you that I really didn’t have one? What is your obsession with this? I ask him if he’s writing a book. Again, the joke went over his head. He keeps on pressing, “come on, there has to be something.” Uh, yeah, this is quickly becoming my worst ever dating story. We spent 20 mins talking about online dating and he talked about a couple of his female friends and their stories and a few of his stories. I tried to not let my eyes go completely dead as they glazed over.
Finally, at last, I have a brilliant idea. I’m going to tell him the Colossal Douche Bag story. Yes, I break out the big gun. I go on and on as if I’m telling the story for the first time and not the millionth. He starts to get that frozen look of panic on his face and I keep going. It’s working like a charm. At the 45 min mark of meeting he asks me if I wouldn’t mind walking to where his car is parked, because he has to feed the meter. No problem. As we’re walking he asks me if I am now distrusting of all men. No, of course not. I judge each man individually. At least that’s what I am thinking in my head. What comes out is “Well, noooo, I don’t judge each man on the behavior of my ex. However, I am definitely more guarded and wary when it comes to dating.” With each thing coming out of my mouth, I could see him withering away. Score! We get to his car and he asks if I still want to hang out, cause then he’ll feed the meter. If not, then we can each go on our merry way. I tell him that I want to go for a late afternoon run (I actually wanted to go home and continue watching college football), and we part ways.
I think I’ll scratch Kicks off the list of potential matches, however, he firmly has a place among the *bad dates*.