He texted and called, and I responded like a normal person.
He always answered so matter-of-fact-ly, that I actually mentioned to Mandy that I was couldn’t get a feel for his sense of humor. He didn’t want to play with me, there was no banter back and forth, and that was red flag #1.
So we scheduled a date over the phone, and I mentioned that I lived downtown, and I listed a few places I go every now and then and few of my favorite parts of town, and he didn’t seem to know about any of them. In fact, he had never been to whole neighborhoods within San Diego, and he GREW UP HERE. Red flag #2.
We settled on my choices, because he kept saying “I like to do something on a date” and “We can’t go there, there is nothing to do.” Hmm, wonder why? Well, I don’t.
Date night started out with a brisk walk from my apt, to a bar to buy tix to a local comedy show (I paid), followed by appetizers at a restaurant nearby. I had to WAIT for him to order a beer, before I finally said, “I am getting a Sierra Nevada, do you want a drink?”
We swapped likes and dislikes, career and family info, and he ordered sweet and spicy shrimp as an appetizer. I am not kidding you, I literally watched him choke these down. Apparently he doesn’t “like” spicy food, it upsets his stomach, and he flinched with every bite of shrimp. They were covered in the goopiest, sweetest sauce, that wasn’t the least bit spicy- and homeboy couldn’t hack it.
We grew up in San Diego, home of the dirty taco shop in a strip mall, and this guy was trying to tell me he doesn’t like burritos. Burritos – God’s gift to drunk people. I was starting to think all he ate was WonderBread.
Then I mentioned I was up for a job in SF and it would be really cool to get it- “Great for my career,” I explained.
And his face dropped. Like I just told him his cat died or something equally as tragic.
So I continued on about how I didn’t know if I could get it, and how the interviews were practice, and how I just excited to see what came of it.
And his face stayed like that.
And I ignored it. Until I just couldn’t any longer. I said “Are you okay?” and he muttered something about everytime he meets someone they leave.
So, I ignored that too, and chatted on, relieved we had a comedy show in our future. The conversation never got slow, but I was a bit exhausted from pulling a lot of the weight.
Case and point: We chatted for a bit about our favorite items at Trader Joe’s. He said he really enjoyed this green juice drink, I raved about instant frozen rice that was perfect in three minutes.
His reply: “You know rice is bad for you, right?”
And all I could think was, “Hey, nitwit. I didn’t tell you if it was white or brown. Plus, what-the-eff- do you want me to do with that comment?” Great conversationalist, this one.
So I giggled about it being brown rice and we moved on. I wasn’t even going to argue a point, should I have cared to think of one.
I beat him at finishing our respective drinks, and I was sipping mine… slowly.
I let him pay for apps, drinks, and my suffering.