Category 2. Too much too fast
Category 3. Master of the backhanded compliment
I don't really even remember how I met this guy. I am sure it was online, but the overriding memory of his rudeness is so strong, I can't remember much else. I do remember his dancing...but I'll get to that in a minute. There were two dates. Which for me, isn't too bad considering I am the queen one-date wonder.
The first date was just for a drink. We met at Bonefush Grill. I recognized him immediately...good sign. I sat down. The first thing out of his mouth was this: I am so glad you are not skinny. Seriously? The thought of turning on my heel and heading out the door was more than fleeting. I know what I look like. Actually, I agonize over it, especially before a date. I even tend to avoid mirrors as much as possible. I realize this is a personal problem, but I am pretty sure it does not take a rocket scientist to realize that is not a great opener. He seemed to realize this was not the greatest starter and went overboard to correct. Um...that's not what I meant...you know....Ok. This could be a very short date, but we are here. So...get me a freaking drink....
The date was fine. He actually was fairly nice. He was a published composer and had something played on Saturday Night Live. Very cool. His day job was singing on a dinner cruise. In the back of my mind, a little debate began...sophistocated musician or cheesy lounge singer....hmmmm. Conversation was good and we seemed to have a few things in common. One weird thing was that every now and then he would just stop what he was saying and kiss me. No warning, no little romantic moment. Very random. Huh. Still not sure how I feel about that.
The next day, he asked me to go to dinner and a movie. He picked me up, smelled overly, and I mean overly, good. While I like a good smelling guy, breathing is also a plus. But I digress. As we were driving, it became clear that he wanted to demonstrate his singing skills to me, so he blasted the music and started singing at a volume and pitch that should have had the dogs howling. He really wasn't bad, but we were trapped in a small car. At this point I did begin leaning a bit toward cheesy on the cheesy/cool meter. Lucky for me though, short trip to dinner.
At dinner, we started with decent conversation, but I got a weird vibe pretty quick. I asked him about kids since he had none. I just wanted a feel for his thoughts or exposure to them. He became very serious and very defensive. He seemed to feel like I was attacking him for not having any. I just wanted to know how he felt about kids. I thought it was a normal question. He had this intense stare that kind of backed me up against my seat. I have heard from some people who shall remain nameless that I have a pretty rocking evil eye...but I think Rude Dude has me beat. Suddenly, after a few minutes, he lightened up and was normal. It happened again when he began to give me his financial situation in a nutshell. Now, this is not something I would ever ask, especially on a first date. It is really an uncomfortable situation to have someone list his assets. I mean, how do you react to that? Applause? Nod and smile? I should have just said, hey buddy, TMI. He was very serious, almost defensive, rattled off the money list with THE STARE in effect and then popped back to jovial and fun.
So again the internal dialog reels. Does he have a mental disorder that involves cycling? Does he have anger issues? Who can really flip an emotional switch in five minutes flat? Questions that boggle the mind. When I started to envision myself as the road runner shooting from one side of the desert to the other to avoid the plummeting anvil (aka THE STARE), I knew that was not good. Does anyone else ever get these kinds of mental pictures? Just curious...But anyway, on to the movie.
After dinner we got to the movie really early. Apparently, the perfect seat in the theater is of vital importance. We were so early we had to wait in the hall until the theater was cleaned. While we stood there waiting, he started talking about moving closer to Pensacola and looking for a job here. While flattering, too much too fast. But he was sweet and enthusiastic. He talked about taking me to see his dinner cruises, going on trips. And then he started to dance. And sing. In the hallway of the theater. Remember Carlton from Fresh Prince of Bel Air? This dude was the older white version. Seriously. Could have been a clone. Now I don't know whether to be entertained because I appreciate a good showtune as much as anyone, but in the hallway, it was a bit much even for me. And the meter screamed cheesy. At least I got that little debate settled.
Thankfully the cleaning crew came out and we went in. As we sat for a while all alone, the theater finally started to fill. At the end of the aisle, I noticed two guys, probably early 20s. They were playing rock, scissors, paper. I looked over and realized they were fighting for the end seat and decided to settle it the only way two boys/men can settle a disagreement: by playing a game with their hands. For some reason that cracked me up. Two grown men playing rock, scissors, paper for a seat. So I asked them if that is what they were doing. "Yep!" Funniest thing I've seen in a while, I told them.
I looked over at rude-boy. He was not happy. This was the beginning of the end. "Well," he said, "If you are distracted by that, obviously I am not doing enough to keep your attention." There it was again...THE STARE. At first I thought he was kidding. I must have looked horrified because he backed off and told me it was fine. "You are just an observer, " he said. "Don't worry about it." I couldn't help looking up for that anvil...
The next thing I knew, the theater was packed and there were two empty seats next to me and one on the other side of him. Three women came up to us and asked if we could scoot down one so that they could sit together. He looked directly at them. "No. actually, we can't." I sat there for a minute. Again, I thought he must be kidding. This had to be a joke, right? I mean, come on. But no response. There was that stare again. Only this time directed at these poor women. I quickly got up and took the empty seat on the other side of him. "That was very deftly handled," he said. What? Thanks, I think, but why should I have to "deftly handle" my date? It was the longest movie of my life. I sat with my hands in my lap trying not to make any sudden movements. I could not wait to get out of there. He got it. I can't really hide much on my face. When he drove me home, he dropped me off quickly and later sent a text that I was closed off and emotionally unavailable. And he was right. I was. To him...
The first date was just for a drink. We met at Bonefush Grill. I recognized him immediately...good sign. I sat down. The first thing out of his mouth was this: I am so glad you are not skinny. Seriously? The thought of turning on my heel and heading out the door was more than fleeting. I know what I look like. Actually, I agonize over it, especially before a date. I even tend to avoid mirrors as much as possible. I realize this is a personal problem, but I am pretty sure it does not take a rocket scientist to realize that is not a great opener. He seemed to realize this was not the greatest starter and went overboard to correct. Um...that's not what I meant...you know....Ok. This could be a very short date, but we are here. So...get me a freaking drink....
The date was fine. He actually was fairly nice. He was a published composer and had something played on Saturday Night Live. Very cool. His day job was singing on a dinner cruise. In the back of my mind, a little debate began...sophistocated musician or cheesy lounge singer....hmmmm. Conversation was good and we seemed to have a few things in common. One weird thing was that every now and then he would just stop what he was saying and kiss me. No warning, no little romantic moment. Very random. Huh. Still not sure how I feel about that.
The next day, he asked me to go to dinner and a movie. He picked me up, smelled overly, and I mean overly, good. While I like a good smelling guy, breathing is also a plus. But I digress. As we were driving, it became clear that he wanted to demonstrate his singing skills to me, so he blasted the music and started singing at a volume and pitch that should have had the dogs howling. He really wasn't bad, but we were trapped in a small car. At this point I did begin leaning a bit toward cheesy on the cheesy/cool meter. Lucky for me though, short trip to dinner.
At dinner, we started with decent conversation, but I got a weird vibe pretty quick. I asked him about kids since he had none. I just wanted a feel for his thoughts or exposure to them. He became very serious and very defensive. He seemed to feel like I was attacking him for not having any. I just wanted to know how he felt about kids. I thought it was a normal question. He had this intense stare that kind of backed me up against my seat. I have heard from some people who shall remain nameless that I have a pretty rocking evil eye...but I think Rude Dude has me beat. Suddenly, after a few minutes, he lightened up and was normal. It happened again when he began to give me his financial situation in a nutshell. Now, this is not something I would ever ask, especially on a first date. It is really an uncomfortable situation to have someone list his assets. I mean, how do you react to that? Applause? Nod and smile? I should have just said, hey buddy, TMI. He was very serious, almost defensive, rattled off the money list with THE STARE in effect and then popped back to jovial and fun.
So again the internal dialog reels. Does he have a mental disorder that involves cycling? Does he have anger issues? Who can really flip an emotional switch in five minutes flat? Questions that boggle the mind. When I started to envision myself as the road runner shooting from one side of the desert to the other to avoid the plummeting anvil (aka THE STARE), I knew that was not good. Does anyone else ever get these kinds of mental pictures? Just curious...But anyway, on to the movie.
After dinner we got to the movie really early. Apparently, the perfect seat in the theater is of vital importance. We were so early we had to wait in the hall until the theater was cleaned. While we stood there waiting, he started talking about moving closer to Pensacola and looking for a job here. While flattering, too much too fast. But he was sweet and enthusiastic. He talked about taking me to see his dinner cruises, going on trips. And then he started to dance. And sing. In the hallway of the theater. Remember Carlton from Fresh Prince of Bel Air? This dude was the older white version. Seriously. Could have been a clone. Now I don't know whether to be entertained because I appreciate a good showtune as much as anyone, but in the hallway, it was a bit much even for me. And the meter screamed cheesy. At least I got that little debate settled.
Thankfully the cleaning crew came out and we went in. As we sat for a while all alone, the theater finally started to fill. At the end of the aisle, I noticed two guys, probably early 20s. They were playing rock, scissors, paper. I looked over and realized they were fighting for the end seat and decided to settle it the only way two boys/men can settle a disagreement: by playing a game with their hands. For some reason that cracked me up. Two grown men playing rock, scissors, paper for a seat. So I asked them if that is what they were doing. "Yep!" Funniest thing I've seen in a while, I told them.
I looked over at rude-boy. He was not happy. This was the beginning of the end. "Well," he said, "If you are distracted by that, obviously I am not doing enough to keep your attention." There it was again...THE STARE. At first I thought he was kidding. I must have looked horrified because he backed off and told me it was fine. "You are just an observer, " he said. "Don't worry about it." I couldn't help looking up for that anvil...
The next thing I knew, the theater was packed and there were two empty seats next to me and one on the other side of him. Three women came up to us and asked if we could scoot down one so that they could sit together. He looked directly at them. "No. actually, we can't." I sat there for a minute. Again, I thought he must be kidding. This had to be a joke, right? I mean, come on. But no response. There was that stare again. Only this time directed at these poor women. I quickly got up and took the empty seat on the other side of him. "That was very deftly handled," he said. What? Thanks, I think, but why should I have to "deftly handle" my date? It was the longest movie of my life. I sat with my hands in my lap trying not to make any sudden movements. I could not wait to get out of there. He got it. I can't really hide much on my face. When he drove me home, he dropped me off quickly and later sent a text that I was closed off and emotionally unavailable. And he was right. I was. To him...
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