Context: I matched with ‘Jersey Boy’ on Tinder on one particularly boozy Wine Wednesday, because his main picture was a good looking gent in an elf costume. Sign me up! My good friend MC tried to ruin our relationship before it began by messaging him “Are you a naughty elf?” By some miracle, this morphed into a legitimately great conversation, which led to him asking me to grab dinner on a Tuesday night.
Guys, I have a confession to make. Sometimes, I get tired of dating.
I can hear you gasping from here. “But, J!” you exclaim. “Dating is practically your full time job!* It’s your passion! Your heart! Your soul! Your way to exact revenge on men who have scorned you in the past by using other men for free things and then kicking them to the curb!”
*Things that are false, but I kind of wish were true
I know, I know. But sometimes I get tired, ya know? Such was the case with Jersey Boy, who I had agreed to meet up with on a Tuesday night… but then Tuesday was an excruciatingly long and difficult day at work… and when he texted me to see if I was still on for that night, I deflected.
J: I mean, I probably won’t even leave the office until 7:30, so I won’t get home until after 8…
JB: Wow, look at you, dedicated working girl! So smart! You could probably use a drink after all your hard labor!
*30 minutes of silence*
JB: Do you drive to work, or do you metro?
*1 hour of silence*
JB: I was going to suggest that we go and get flan, but the place I was thinking of near you is closed today!
Lest I spend the rest of my life* wondering if he was “the one” – a thing I would definitely do – I caved.
*I plan on living a good 60-70 more years, until I pass either peacefully in my slumber or in a daring feat of rescue that is caught on tape.
I texted him when I left the office and he asked if 8:30 would be good for me, and where I would like to go, and how my day was, and what my younger brother’s middle name was and how his day was going… so much thoughtfulness. Dude, where my asshole bros at? Everyone knows I don’t like nice guys!! UGH. We agreed to meet up at Meridian Pint.
I finally got home from work at 8:05 PM (yeesh), accidentally set off our burglar alarm (#newhousestrugz), and chugged a Bold Rock while I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror and talked to my roommate, L.
J: I don’t even want to go on this date I’m so tired and I look gross and I need to unpack ughhhhh
L: Then don’t go! No one’s forcing you.
J: Omg L how can you even say that don’t you care about my love life at all don’t you want me to find happiness DON’T YOU?!
L: Ok, then go on the date…
J: But have you SEEN what my HAIR looks right now?? And this zit?? He’s probably gonna think I’m just a gross, pathetic excuse for a human and walk away before we’re even inside the restaurant, leaving me in a puddle of my own tears!
L: I’m not responding to you anymore.
J: Also I want ice cream
J: FINE I’LL GO. IF IT’S WHAT YOU REALLY WANT.
She’s a persuasive one, that L.
I finally summoned the internal strength to make the 0.005 mile walk to Meridian Pint, where I found Jersey Boy. And he was so cute! And so tall!! What was he doing out with a girl like me? I told you about that zit, right?! Eh. Might as well give it a shot. We walked downstairs, where he bought us both beers, and, well, the rest is history. At least, that’s what we’ll tell our children.
LOL. Totally joking. It was a great date, and he bought me two beers, sure, but when he walked me home I had the misfortune of learning that he kisses like a bird.
Like, stabbing my face with his
beak lips. Pecking, if you will.
Like, a LOT of pecking. On all parts of the face. It was weird, guys. I put up with this peck attack for approx 30 seconds before I wrenched my body from his embrace and insisted it was time for me to get to bed. And then he texted me one minute after I was inside my door. TOO. DAMN. NICE.*
*I clearly hate myself and never want to find love and probably never will if I keep rejecting any guy who likes me solely on the basis that he likes me.
Can I go on weird, bad dates now?