"No wonder you're single."
He brought me flowers, which I suppose is par for the course if you're a florist. He told me the colors have significance, and the bloom, but he would not tell me what the significance was. "It adds to the mystery," he said. I didn't agree, but I was too polite to say.
We met at Borders, which I thought was a pretty neutral place full of conversation starters. I'm a book man. He said he was, too. When we got in line, he ordered my coffee for me without even asking what I wanted. That should've been the first sign. "Trust me, you'll like it," he said. I did not like it, but I was too polite to say.
The conversation occurred in spurts. He told stories about his work; I listened without the chance to speak. When he laughed, I nodded along and smiled to be polite, but I was having a hard time following his humor. And anyway, it's impolite to act unaffected on a first date--isn't it?
He ordered scones. For the both of us. Without asking. I couldn't help but joke that I would've preferred chocolates. "I don't like chocolate," he replied. "It's a drug. I prefer healthier choices." I wanted to remind him that his latte and scone were probably more calories than a decent meal, but I refrained.
"So," he said as we were finishing, "I hear you're just coming out of a relationship." I thought it was pretty poor form to ask this, so I ignored the question. He persisted.
"It's--" complicated, I wanted to say, but it struck me how unfair an answer that would be. "Yes," I adjusted. "Yes, I suppose I am."
"How long ago did you break up?"
"Well," I glanced around, hoping someone would save me. "I--er." There was no one. "Not too long ago." It felt like three seconds ago, in truth. My chest was tight.
"Haven't had time for break-up sex yet?" He looked so smug. I sputtered.
"Pardon?"
"Break-up sex," he repeated, grinning. "You know when you have sex with someone to forget someone else?"
"I--" was disgusted. "That's not really how I work."
"No? One of those?" He was teasing. I'm sure he was teasing.
"I don't get much out of random sex." How did the conversation get here? This was just coffee, right?
"Hey," he said leaning in and dropping his voice, "it's okay to be afraid, but I don't have any diseases or anything." I wish I were a more violent man.
"It has nothing to do with being afraid," I clipped. "I don't enjoy random, meaningless sex."
"That's just because you haven't had it with the right guy."
"No," I insisted. "I don't agree with the entire concept."
"You won't be saying that in two hours." Clenched fists under the table, let me tell you.
"In two hours, I plan to be sleeping in bed. Alone."
"Hey, I can work with that." His laughter made me want to shower.
"Thank you for the coffee," I said, "but I really must get going." I left his flowers on the table.
"Aww, don't be like that baby." He was following me out, now, and so close to making a scene. He didn't even have the decency to lower his voice. I ignored him until we were outdoors.
"I am not your baby."
"You could be."
"No, thank you."
"Don't be like that. C'mon, this is supposed to be fun. It's just a date, and it's just sex. Every needs it after a break-up. Why'd you come out, anyway?" To have coffee? Talk to someone? Meet new people? Because everyone told me I should, even if I wasn't ready? Pick one.
"No, thank you. I am going home." He sighed and opened my door for me. I didn't even look at him. When I went to close it, he stood in the way.
"What're you doing?" I asked
"Aren't you going to invite me back to your place?" he smiled. "It's only polite. I did pay for the coffee."
And that's when I hit him. With the door, but still. It would've been so much more satisfying to lay him out with a good right hook.
"Crazy motherfucker," he yelled. "No wonder you're single."
No fucking wonder, man. No fucking wonder. He's lucky I didn't run him over with my car.
Do people really DO this? I mean, this isn't just shit you hear about in movies? People just--meet up and randomly fuck? After coffee? Jesus Christ, I wish I were straight and married with children. How much easier would life be? Seriously.
Really could've used a good night tonight, too. I'm going to drink myself to sleep. New habit. Toodles.
Moral of the story: no internet dating for me. I am just not a good judge of character over a computer screen, I guess.
Unrelated: my stock portfolio is now worth 43% less than it was at the beginning of September. If I get down to 48%, I'm jumping ship and putting my money back in the bank. There went my retirement and savings. WHOOOO GREAT MONTH!!!