There are many times when I wonder if it is just me…am I the only one receiving the weirdest messages from the most disturbed individuals on the Internet? Or am I the one that is too critical and not giving the right people a chance?
Then I hear from my cousin and somehow everything equalizes. A very smart and beautiful female of a similar age who works full-time, living in a different region* of the U.S., she often finds some real winners as well. Here are some that she has shared with me, instead of deleting immediately and setting her profile, phone and computer on fire, which is typically my first instinct:
What would they chat about? His own personal daddy issues?
And then…what? She vomits?
Maybe it is in our blood…some sort of pull that we have on the crazy. Here’s a recent text exchange we had:
* This post is dedicated to the people who tell me how my dating issues would be solved if I left New York. Uh huh.
Peter was the first guy I met in person through Tinder. In hindsight, he should have been the last, but what can you do? He was polite, good-looking in his photos and actually asked me if I wanted to meet up with him at a normal, public place. He was around my age, employed and had come to live in the U.S. several years ago from Ireland. So yes – you guessed it – Peter really liked to drink. When he selected a “pub” for us to meet at after work I was delighted…only because he called it a “pub.” The place was a tourist trap smack in midtown, but it was convenient for both of us and I just went with it.
In person, Peter spoke with the adorable Irish accent I was hoping he had and was reasonably attractive. Our time together was relatively unscathed. I wouldn’t say that there was much chemistry, but it wasn’t painful. We must’ve been sitting at a small table together for approximately two hours, and I believe that for the 2 drinks I had, Peter had downed 5 pints of beer. This fact alone did not bother me, and neither did the fact that he mentioned that he had two cars “at his house in Virginia” at least twice. I thought it was interesting that he had a home in Queens, New York as well as Virginia. I did find it a bit odd for him to mention the stuff that he bought for his ex-girlfriend more than once – that being the expensive concert tickets and jewelry he had purchased for her. So there were a few topics that started out innocently, that ended with Peter declaring that he spent too much money on his ex-girlfriend. That was only multiplied when our date came to a close because Peter was meeting “friends for more pints” and asked for the check.
Here’s my favorite part…Peter had the check for my two drinks and his 5 pints in his hand and after mentioning his 1) two cars 2) two homes in the U.S. (one additional home in Ireland) and 3) his materialistic ex-girlfriend…he declared the amount of money I owed for half of the bill. I guess this is not such a big deal to some people. I found it appalling and per usual, I couldn’t hold back my reaction. Maybe my expectations are too high…wanting a man to pay for my drinks on our first date. My jaw just hung open after he said that, to which he responded, “Oh no…what did I do? What’s wrong?!” And I told him the issue. And he wasn’t even fazed, and told me to forget he said to split the bill, which of course just inspired me to pay my own way. I made sure he accepted my $20 bill in my “I’m a strong woman who can afford two drinks, you dipshit” way.
This is exactly what our date DIDN’T look like.
You might think that with Peter’s complaints of past experiences and logical frugality on first dates that I would be turned off. I probably was, but still wanted attention (and to pay my own way for dates?) and to hear from him again. We texted a few more times after that but he eventually stopped.
At least his rejection helped me save some cash.