Last night I did something I’ve never done before: I walked out on a date.
I’m feeling a little conflicted about my choice, but only a little.
There was one thing that he did that was so terrible. He didn’t grab my ass or anything.
I guess it started when we were still messaging on OkCupid. After a few messages, he sent me his number. I told him I was really busy and I wouldn’t be able to meet up with him until later in the week. The next day he messaged me, asking why I didn’t call or text him. I had never said I was going to do either of those things, and I reminded him that I was very busy for the next few days.
He backed off a bit. No harm, no foul. Not exactly a warning flag, but there was a little weirdness with him expecting me to call when I never said I would.
Fast forward a week or so, and we made plans to get together last night. We were to meet at Sloppy Joe’s at 6:30. A few hours before we were to meet, he messaged that he wanted to change the location. “Let’s meet at the ABC by Sloppy Joe’s, and then we’ll drive to my favorite sunset watching place.” I replied back saying I’d feel more comfortable meeting in a public place for a first date.
Again, not a big deal, but a little weird…
He called me 10 minutes before our meeting time.
- Me: Hello?
- Him: Hi! What are you doing?
- Me: Coming to meet you. (with incredulous look on my face)
- Him: Have you ever been to Sloppy Joe’s?
- Me (thinking): Can’t we have this conversation in ten minutes?
- Me (actual reply): Nope.
- Him: It’s a really cool place. And they have free valet parking.
- Me: Great see you in a few.
Again, weird.
I was actually already nearby at a public parking lot. I walked down to Sloppy Joe’s at the appointed time. No one up front. I texted him: Hi, I’m here. Where are you? He calls me to tell me he’s by the bar. I walk. It’s a big bar. There are no eyes looking for me. I’m about ready to give up, and I think I see him. I keep walking. He doesn’t even look like he’s looking for me. During my search, I was feeling more and more frustrated. When I met him, I’ll admit I was a little pissed. Couldn’t he walk out to meet me?
We say our hellos, and a server is getting a table ready for us. We chat a bit. Seeing the music tattoo on my arm, he asks what sorts of music I like. I say most things, but I like a lot of singer-songwriter sorts of music. He made a face. I wasn’t imagining it.
I asked him what sorts of music he liked. A little of everything, but right now I like chicks. (In my head it was spelled chix.)
Our server guided us to our table. I followed the woman, and I arrived at the table without my date. He either got lost or just mosied…
I tried to resume the conservation. “Oh, you like Chix. Is that a band? I’m not familiar with them.” I knew what he meant, but I wanted to see how he’d respond. “Chick rock” he clarified. Not a whole lot better…
He asked what the tattoo was on my other arm. I let him take a look and asked him what he thought it was. No look of recognition. “It’s a heart with leafy stuff coming out of it,” I described.
- “Like 420 leafy stuff?”
- “If it is, it doesn’t look like any pot I’ve ever seen.”
- “I’m just joking. Lighten up.”
Now, I can take a joke. I like low-brow jokes and intellectual jokes too. I laughed really, really hard about a fart joke yesterday. There were tears.
This guy wasn’t making me laugh. He really didn’t know it was a heart. He really didn’t look closely enough to see that they weren’t pot leaves…
The server came up and asked if we wanted a drink.
I thought for just a few seconds and said no. I said, “I can’t do this. It was nice to meet you, but I have to go.” And I did.
Lighten up. If on the first date a man is telling me to lighten up, it’s time to go.
I walked across the street and enjoyed a delicious wet burrito and a margarita. I chatted with some nice folks while there…
I Facebooked about the happenings. I worried about being polite because in some ways I so obviously wasn’t. Yet there was no way I could have sat there and had a fun time with this guy. If I had stayed, the more colorful portions of my fiery personality would have started showing more fully and things likely would have gotten ugly. So I guess it was more polite for me to leave than stay.
I try to be respectful of people’s emotions. I try to be nice to everyone (though I recognize I don’t always succeed). You never know someone’s story. At the same time, I have to watch out for my own emotions too, specifically because I do know my story.
I hope I’m never in the position where I feel like I have to do that again.