Okay, I have to preface this one by saying that I do not go on dates expecting to be picked up, everything paid for, and all the old standards that dating used to have. On first dates, I always go in anticipating I will pay for myself and if I it ends up that I don’t have to, it’s a nice treat (this is also why I never order anything too extravagant). I prefer not to be picked up at my place because it just leaves an uncomfortable car ride home if things go bad (and then they know where you live!) Of course it’s nice to have doors opened and chairs pulled out, sure…but these are all extras. (Hey girls, we fought for feminism right? Well here you go.) I do, however, still have standards that I find acceptable on dates as far as behavior and self-sufficiency. It is for these very reasons that I found myself asking “How did I end up with the loser trifecta on possibly the worst date in history?” Let me start from the beginning.
My friend Joanne got married in September. It was about a week before the wedding that I started talking to this guy who wanted to take me out. However, with the wedding so close and all the things that needed to be done to get ready for it, I just didn’t have the time. So, I told him he could take me out the weekend after the wedding if he was still interested at that point. Of course, that was over two weeks away so I thought that the chances of him still being interested at that point may be slim to none. To my surprise, he continued to text me every day and call me every night for a chat after my daughter had gone to bed. Our conversations were great, he got my sense of humor and I got his, and we would just go over almost any topic talking for an hour or so every night.
I found out he had two daughters, which I liked because I’ve often had the issue of people not understanding my availability limitations. When I had told guys in the past that the only time we can go out is on nights when I don’t have my daughter, they usually didn’t understand. They would inevitably say some variation of “it’s okay, I like kids!” Obviously, they were missing the point that it wasn’t about them, it was for my daughters sake that I just don’t bring anyone around. So the fact that this guy had two girls of his own and understood what it meant to have limited availability was a definite plus. Also, he was up to speed on Dora the Explorer which is a great thing in my world.
So finally after all this waiting, the day of our date arrived. He had picked out Pesos for dinner and we had planned to meet there at 7PM before it turned into the meat market on that Friday night that it would later become. Around 6PM when frantically getting ready trying to make it out the door on time, I got a call from him. He told me that his car had broken down and that he was going to try to take the bus but he had missed it. He didn’t think he could be there until 8:30 or 9 and it would be crowded and noisy by that point. I offered up a solution, I made reservations at Talouse, the sister restaurant to Pesos next door, and offered to swing by and pick him up so he didn’t have to take a half hour bus ride. See? I have an open mind about dating I swear!
So I drive down to pick him up and he gives me directions. He told me he rented out the bottom half of this house in Burien, and he told me to pull up to the side of the house and he would come meet me. So I did. It was a heavily wooded area and really dark with only a narrow one way road going in and through the neighborhood. So after I called to let him know I was there he took about 10 minutes to actually come to the car. It was a little annoying yes, but I just jammed out to my music and played angry birds in my car. Finally we headed toward the restaurant and got there just in time for the last reservation that they had at 9PM. We get to our table and things start off really well. The conversation is flowing, he’s complimenting me, we have a great back-and-forth thing going and I’m just really enjoying my time. When the waitress comes around to take our orders, I get a glass of merlot and a ceasar salad, and he gets a porterhouse steak meal and an Arnold Palmer. We get through our meal and are just waiting for the check so we can go karaoke which was his suggestion since he knows I LOVE it which I found to be very sweet. (Also, he was in a band so I think he wanted to show off a bit).
Just then as the waitress drops off our bill, I spot my friend at the table across from us. “Ally!” I said to get her attention, and I waved to her. She got up from her booth and came over to chat for a minute. While this is going on, I start to hear murmurs from my date and a few cusses under his breath. “What’s wrong?” I asked him, surprised. He excused himself for a minute and got up and walked outside. I could see him pacing back and forth around the door and checking the floor in between the door and our booth as he headed back. He told me that he had lost his debit card. “Oh…” I said remembering then the expensive meal he had ordered. He said just to wait a minute while he made a call. He got on the phone and said “Hey, it’s me, can you go down and see if I left my debit card on the table? Thanks.” He got off the phone and explained his dad lived in the neighborhood and was going to go check for him. “Okay,” I thought, “strange, but I really hope he finds it!” Not even 2 minutes later he got a call back and from the conversation I gathered quickly that the card had not been found. I grab the check and insert my debit card, trying very hard not to notice the total, but I could not help it. I was shocked! “$60 bucks and all I got was a glass of wine and a salad!” I thought. I was trying my best to keep my cool.
Okay, so the guy doesn’t have a car that works, lives in BFE Burien, and either doesn’t have the money to pay for his portion of dinner or really is just too irresponsible to carry a backup credit card or cash. I try not to read too much into it and just let it go. So we go to leave and he asks me if we can stop by his place before we went to the second part of the date to look for his card. I’m not sure if this was a ploy or not, but if it meant getting reimbursed for his expensive-ass steak, then sure why not? I had to drive him home anyway. Back at his apartment, we pull up to the driveway. He explained his place is below this house that he rents from landlords, so he says. But to get down to the actual apartment, you have to take a lift that went down this steep hill to his place. Now, I have to preface this with saying I have TRUE arachnophobia. Even just thinking about this next part of the story makes my palms clamy and the hairs stand up on the back of my neck.
So he tells me to get on this and there are spiders effing EVERYWHERE. I’m not talking like little tiny spiders, I’m talking deep in the woods HUGE ass spiders that you could see their individual joints and hairs on their bodies. Most people wouldn’t notice this, but I did. By the entrance there were at least 15 large arachnids with their webs dangerously close to my head. But he urges me on and I run and duck practically diving onto the lift. We’re going through the trees and I could have sworn by the size of these monsters that we were in some jungle somewhere. So we get off the lift and I quite literally RUN to his door ducking my head and protecting my hair. Yeah, I know, I’m a big P@$$% when it comes to spiders. Anyway, we go inside his place which is neat inside, but he looks around and can’t find his debit card. I just want to leave but the thought of going back through the gauntlet of hell that awaited me outside didn’t bring me much comfort. He turns around and says, “Well…?” as if he were looking to me as to what to do next.
On the way he had suggested pool up the road and I thought that the least he could do would be to pay for some pool and get me a drink. So, I decided to take him up on the offer. “Well, we could always” and he stopped me and stepped closer to me, “we could always stay here and play pool, I have a mini pool table.” I laugh a little laugh that was probably more maniacal than cute, “well no, let’s just go to that place you were telling me about.” He looked disappointed “okay” he said. So head back out through the lift of death and leave to go to the bar he had mentioned. On the way he makes me stop at two places to retrace his steps and see if his card fell out. We play pool for a while and he buys me a drink (turns out he had $30 on him in cash but hadn't offered up that info when the check arrived). After a couple of games of pool during which I learned that his caveman approach to flirting was making jokes about the way I held my "stick", I feign exhaustion and drop him back off at home. The night was completely a bust for me. He on the other hand must not have thought that way. “Well, do you want to come hang out for a while?” “Yeah right buddy, I’d rather sever my left foot than go down there again” I think to myself but instead “no thank you” comes out. He leans in for a kiss and I give him my cheek and a friendly hug/pat on the back. I take off toward home and try to sleep away this nightmare of a date. I recapped it for myself. I had picked him up, paid for dinner, dropped him off and had been nearly accosted by hundreds of spiders. Worst. Date. Ever.
The next day he called me to ask me if he could take me out again, saying he found his debit card and had left it in the machine for the second time that week. He said he wanted to make it up to me for the night before. I was about to decline when he said “and I’d really like to reimburse you for our dinner.” Now, normally a mere $60 would not be worth repeating the special brand of hell that was my first date with this guy. BUT the following weekend was my birthday and some friends of mine and I were going to the casino, and I wanted to gamble. I had budgeted about $60 for my gambling money from my paycheck so you can see why I wanted to get it back. “Alright” I replied. We set up a potential date for the day after next, him thanking me one more time for giving him another shot. We were randomly talking about something from our first date and my Prius comes into the conversation. “I love the Prius by the way,” He says, “My mother has a blue one just like it”. That’s great I thought. However at that moment I realized in horror that outside of his “landlord’s” house there was a blue Prius. My mind began to spin and I put two and two together, with the Prius out front and how fast his Dad was able to check for his card, they didn’t just live in the neighborhood, they WERE his landlords! Ugh. I had gone out with the loser trifecta. He was a 35 year old man who didn’t have a car, probably had no money to pay for himself, and therefore lived at home with his parents. I got off of the phone with him and just sat there. Could I really go out with him just to get my money back knowing that there was no way in hell I would date someone like that? I wasn’t so sure.
So our next date night rolled around and he asked me if I could pick him up from work and we could go to dinner and a movie by his house since he didn’t have his car fixed. I declined and said I’d rather just meet him in Seattle. We set up a time to meet and I start to head out. He texted me just then. “Damn! I just got on the wrong bus, it’s going to take me an extra hour, can we just meet up in Burien instead?” I shook my head, and decided the money just was NOT worth it. “I just CANNOT relate to your problems!” I thought of sending. But instead I didn’t respond. I didn’t pick up his phone calls that night and only texted him the next day to tell him I didn’t think it was a good idea if we saw each other anymore. I may not be the catch of the century, but I have my stuff together for the most part. And I could just never date a mama's boy.
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