The Trial: Gareth. I met him on a dating website and we wrote and then texted a lot for a few days straight. We seemed to have the same abrasive humor about human beings and jested by insulting each other a lot, which is fun to me. At one point when he brought up wanting to get into antiques, I made a few suggestions given my experience in vintage in the past. He then made rude and overbearing reference to knowing way more about business than me, without having discussed the location or any real details about my business, or anything about my (self) education. I have been known to like a cocky guy, once in a while. If they are deserving of the title.
I had decided for some reason at this point of my online dating life that it was only fair to warn men that I was a vegetarian and that it grossed me out if my suitors ate meat in front of me and then tried to get near my face. He thought this was obnoxious. He didn’t want to talk to me anymore. I wrote back that I stood my ground and I didn’t care and have a nice life and goodbye.
He changed his mind. He wanted to meet me.
The Error: The night we decided to meet I was out for most of the day and it got late. Late in the evening while I was running circles in a pool, I contemplated via text message where to meet while he gracelessly shot down my suggestions. A deal was struck just before I got out, and as I dressed I decided, as which is a common practice for me, to bail on the date by text.
He calls. The word for what he sounded like on the phone I think is “bitching” or “griping”. In an effeminatesque accent, he guilts me into coming to meet him, and his reason is because he already drank a mickey on the bus on the way to the destination.
I bitch back. I give him grief for being so demanding and when he threatens that if I don’t come out tonight that “that’s it”. I am laughing the whole time I am yelling at him, competing for the conversation, and as I threaten back to just not show up, I decide to go. For the story, if nothing else.
My cab arrives and Gareth is standing outside talking to a girl, wearing floods (pants that are too short for the wearer), an oversized western shirt, with one of those perfectly straight receding hairlines, parted in the middle, and combed forward to make his forehead look smaller, like Dwight from American version of The Office. Instantly I am turned on.
Not really. The beauty of going out for a drink as a first/blind date is that you can leave after one drink and it is perfectly respectable. At any point after that you can take off. And of course the perk of being in a public crowded place makes it beautiful too, I guess, for a cautiously raised young woman like me.
Due to having had a adrink already, I easily enter Gareth and the girl’s conversation about sex on LSD. Once the girl had finished telling us that she accidentally had anal sex at a folk festival on acid, the first thing he tells this girl is, “We are online dating”. I am horrified, doubly.
Before we go inside the girl comments on my outfit, so I give her one of my business cards. Gareth immediately declares that he knew which store must have been mine so it was no surprise to him. It was a sif he was gloating about being so smart as to have figured it out with s few clues. But all I could think about was how he condescendingly claimed that he could be the one teaching me about business, not the other way around when I gave him suggestions regarding something he mentioned in my field. Big Strike 1. Let the record show that it would have still been a strike for not having told me he knew who I was.
The whole time we are out there he is chain smoking and every time I say let’s go in, so we can get a drink, he whines. I haven’t smoked in twelve years so I don’t exactly care if he feel slike smoking yet a third cigarette. I finally point out that getting the drink is that purpose of the night, and that it won’t be as humid in the bar. I really had to fight for this one, but finally, I was victorious in my quest.
So I bee line for the bar and order my drink. Gareth orders himself one shot of tequila and a beer. I instantly found it very bizarre that he didn’t ask me to do a shot with him. I don’t really care if he pays of rit or not. I would’ve happily done a shot. I brush it off to really try to make it through this one drink.
We argue a few more times in the next few sips of wine during which I am really finding tearing him apart in everything he says pretty fun. It’s not often that you meet someone who you disagree with so much, which is extra difficult for me since I am right all the time. The humidity become stoo much for me though, so I suggest we go where the air conditioning works. We walk a block down, still disagreeing with pretty much everything but laughing the whole time and him repeatedly telling me how funny I am.
We get to the next bar and he insists on going into the back alley to drink some scotch. I refuse, because why the hell would I want to stand around in a back alley with a guy I met twenty minutes ago. He goes without me. I talk to the doorgirl who tells me how much cover charge is and compliments me on my boots so I give her a business card as I’m trying not to badmouth him too much to her while waiting for Gareth to return. She lets us in for free and he doesn’t thank me, goes directly to the bar and orders himself a shot of tequila and a beer and doesn’t offer me a shot with him a second time. Gareth then mentions that I am so funny that he would like to be friends with me. I jubilantly agree that I CAN be friends with him! I’m not sure if I mean it or not, considering that I was in fact laughing the whole time, even though they were menacing ridiculing words to him. He then realizes what he has just done by letting me off the hook for ever dating him again and gingerly tries to backpedal, to which I completely ignore.
After some mild questioning I discover that Gareth lives with his grandparents, and although he is educated and qualified in Graphic Design which should have been interesting for me, given my own dabblings in Photoshop with making my own ads, his job is rather coin collecting and selling on ebay. Not exactly a girl’s panty remover, but at least it nicely matched his other repulsive qualities.
As the conversation is winding down, as is my drink and I am getting prepared for my quick and blunt getaway, Gareth proceeds to miss his entire mouth while he is trying to take a sip from his pint glass, and pours beer all over the front of his chin, along with his oversized cowboy shirt, his flood pants, and the carpeted floor below them.
I decide it is time to go. He tries to make an openended parting, to which I am very obvious about my sarcasm in my clear but tactful answer that I do not ever wish to see his offensive stupid but amusing drunk ass again.
The Moral of the Story: This is going to be a long moral.
- Don’t bitch at a girl on the phone. That one was easy.
- Don’t ever tell anyone you “are online dating” someone in their presence, and if you can avoid it altogether it would probably make you seem like less of a shmuck.
- Don’t ever assume you know more than anyone else in a subject you have never practiced, especially if you have never actually met them or if have any intention of making them like you.
- Asking girls to drink from your mickey in a back alley is only appropriate after at least 3 drinks have been drank together in the bar, and it is only ok to do it if she agrees. Otherwise you look like a drunk jerk, and you will get far more drunk than her and act like a fool.
- If you make your living selling things online, good for you. But if you also live in your grandparents’ basement, that doesn’t sound like a good combo to a woman at all. You might need to spice it up by owning the house, or being a world traveller, or writing a book about your grandparents to make it
- Lastly, be very careful to aim directly for your mouth when you drink liquids. A difficult feat for some, but an important one to execute in order to provoke a possibility of a second date.
- seem less like you are a poor lazy mooch.
- It is best not to suggest being friends with a girl you’ve just met who you are romantically interested in. ANY suggestion of friendship is an instantaneous way out of every going out with you again as a “date”. Any man who does this is a total moron.
Anonymous and hassle-free, Juliette gives her honest opinion regarding online dating, and modern relationships. All questions submitted will be answered no matter how idiotic, or sexist, or crass, or naive, or bewildering. So don’t be scared…no one will know it’s you she’s mouthing off to if you ask a question you can’t ask anybody else. Juliette wants to scream her advice over the rooftops for the good of all mankind, so bring forth your questions dear readers! Be sure to SUBSCRIBE to Juliette’s blog to ensure you get your answer.