Date Stories, J

J: Let’s taco ’bout it

Context: I matched with ‘Delaware’ on Tinder, and after a short conversation, I called him out on being 100 miles away. He confessed that he was actually living in – SURPRISE! – Delaware, but was moving to DC and had been in town looking for a place. I told him to hit me up when he was back in town, and on a Sunday night, he texted me that he would be touring apartments that week. We set up a taco date for the following night at Taqueria Habanero

It is truly amazing that, after 80 first dates in the past year or so, I have never been stood up.


Have I stood guys up? Absolutely. There was that one that I was going to get drinks with at Bar Pilar, but I got far too hammered at boozy brunch, and then just unmatched so I could continue drinking with my friends…

…and then there was that one that I was supposed to meet up with, but then my roommate L had an Uber Eats coupon code, so I unmatched him so we could eat Indian food, and then he found me on Facebook* and sent me a message that he had waited at the restaurant for 30 minutes and it was very rude of me to stand him up…

…and then, of course, the guy MC and I convinced to come meet us at Chinese Disco one Wednesday night when a) Chinese Disco was closed and b) we were actually at El Centro. He went. It was closed. He wasn’t fazed and still kept trying to hang out with us. NO.

*Too much. Do SO much less.


I thought all of this was coming to an end on Monday night. There I was, standing in my kitchen drinking wine and tracking down the mouse that has taken up  residence under our oven, when I got a text.
Delaware – Hey, I’m wrapping up this apartment tour, be there in 20!

It was 7:25, and #wastehistime2016 still has a significant amount of life left in it, so I planned my trip to get me there promptly at 7:55.* I peeked inside Taqueria Habanero and couldn’t spot him in the throng of people in the very small restaurant, so I shot him a text.


LOOK AT THOSE TIME STAMPS. JUST LOOK AT THEM. Twenty minutes, Delaware? Who the fuck do you think you are?! I wouldn’t even wait for Chris Evans for that long.** Jesus.

*Ended up spending 2 minutes watching a man get arrested. Wasting more time? Perfect.
**This is a lie. I would happily wait for him for 20 minutes or hours or millennia.

Now, lest you think that I actually waited outside for this idiot to text me back, let me fill you in on the timeline of events.
7:57 – Text several friends asking them when I could leave and order Uber Eats.
7:58 – Leave and order Uber Eats. Walk to Giant to pick up beer.
8:07-8:15 – Peruse the beer section at Giant, trying fruitlessly to decide between the 789 varieties of pumpkin beer and instead deciding that I will purchase all of them and hire a homeless man to help me carry them home.
8:16 – Receive above text.

My heart was torn. The beer was already in my hand… but the STORY… but my Uber Eats was on the way… but FREE TACOS…

I had to go.


I parted ways with my beer, blowing it a kiss and reassuring it that mommy would be back later, and walked back to Taqueria (unfortunately, no arrests on this go around). I spot him as I walk in, and notice that he has eaten the full basket of chips, and is putting his coat on to get ready to leave?! What the fuck??

My annoyance and confusion no doubt came through in my forced hello, because he gave me a weird look that was dripping with spite and retorted.
D – It’s very rude of you to be this late. I was about to leave.
J – I was here 25 minutes ago and you didn’t respond to my text.
D – It’s cold outside. I wasn’t about to wait outside.

It was November 7. It was 64 degrees outside. COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS, BITCH.

I took a deep breath and tried to put this bizarre introduction behind me, but there was one thing I couldn’t get over – this guy looked like a legitimate horse. Big teeth, giant, flared nostrils and all. NOT a good look. But, I managed to restrain myself from telling him to go back to the stable from which he came, because I wanted my tacos and margarita paid for.


I tried to strike up a conversation about his search for apartments in DC, and quickly noted that he was a bit of a Negative Nancy.
J – So, what have you thought about the places you’ve looked at?
D – Too expensive. Housing in Wilmington was much cheaper.
J – …because there’s nothing in Wilmington and this is the nation’s capital, maybe…?
D – And there are too many rats, and the girl who just showed me this house was smoking a joint, and I could barely find parking.
J – Once again, it’s a city…?
D – Too many mailboxes.


I responded by stuffing an entire taco into my mouth. He took this as an invitation to continue talking.

D – Do you know why they give you two tortillas for these tacos? I really only need one. Are we supposed to split it into two tacos? Are they not aware that some people are calorie conscious, and tortillas have carbs?
J – *chugs deeply from margarita*
D – I’m 27 now, and my metabolism isn’t what it used to be. I’m not about to go spend another hour in the gym because this Mexican restaurant so rudely gave me two tortillas.
J – *blank stare*
D – By the way, do you do drugs?

I could have had Uber Eats and beer. Why do I put myself in these situations?!


J – Haha, I mean, sometimes I smoke weed when it’s presented to me, but not that often…
D – Marijuana is the devil’s lettuce.
J – Well, that’s one opinion, but I don’t think it’s harmful if you don’t become addicted…

At this point, I think he legitimately started praying for me. He’s not going to do well in Columbia Heights. I was ready to get the hell out of there, but when our waitress came by he asked for ANOTHER TACO. I didn’t want to stay for another taco. I gave him an inquisitive glance, and he responded.
D – I had to eat more tacos than you to feel like a man.



We finally got the check, he paid in cash, and we left the restaurant.
D – *pointing towards my house* I parked down this way. What way are you walking?
J – *pointing exact opposite direction* THIS WAY BYEEEE

I cut a wide circle around the block before making my way back to my house. FREEDOM. I neither wanted nor expected to hear back from him, but two days later when my roommate K asked me to show her a picture, I couldn’t find him in my Tinder. Motherfucker unmatched me! Well, two can play that game.



Oh, how I love to get the last laugh. Think he’ll still be moving to my neighborhood?


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