It’s been a long time since I have dealt with someone who stares — correction ONLY stares — at my boobs. Okay, yes, they’re large and I’m small. I get it. Are they real? Are they fake? Wow they’re large. Yes, it’s great fun to stare.
However, my boobs tend to be hidden away by clothing. In fact, tonight, I had TWO tops on. Okay, yes, fine, I had the bra that makes them look great (ha! Like I need the bra!…kidding. kind of…), but still! From the moment I met up with this guy tonight that’s all he stared at. Even when he saw me catching him staring, he didn’t stop!
Oh, and, I guess I missed the memo on this one…is 5’9″ the new 6′?
In case you couldn’t tell, I had a date tonight. A date that was not Irish. Wow, that’s new. And it was not P (more on him later). This, guy…I don’t even have a creative name for him! We will call him Tom. Why? Because that, to me, is a very normal, boring, common name. And this guy tonight? Very common. VEEEERRRYYYY boring. (Although his name is really not at all common). So, Tom. That’s who I went out with tonight.
Tom is from Jersey. But he doesn’t look it. Tom loves sports. Tom worships the Yankees and the Giants and the Nets (basketball?). Tom just went to business school so he could make lots of money. Tom does not have a job – nor has he HAD a job in quite some time. Tom lives in Gramercy. Tom lives half a block away from Brazilian Girl who lives in a nice, expensive-ass apartment. Hmm….does Tom live off mommy and daddy?
Tom, on Match, said he was 6’0″. Tom, in person, was, at most, 5’9″. Tom’s pictures on Match made him LOOK 6 foot. Tom, in person, had a slighter build and was 5’9″. Tom’s emails weren’t the most intriguing things, I never read them and thought, “I want to know more!!” But they didn’t bore me to death. Tom, in person, bored me to death.
Okay, so, there’s this one bar in the Village that I have designated for THREE DIFFERENT dates thus far. And I still have not gotten there! The first person I was supposed to go there with was Texas, but he changed our date at the last minute and we wound up in Brooklyn. The second person I was supposed to go there with was Irish. I don’t remember why that didn’t happen. The third person I was supposed to go there with was Tom. We got there and everything, but it was packed and we would not have been able to talk because it was so crowded and noisy….in retrospect, that would have been preferable. So, we went to a place down the block where we could sit outside. On that short walk of a block, I knew he was going to be a dud. He walked waaaayyyyy too slow. And every time I would slow down to walk with him, he would walk slower. He mumbled so I couldn’t hear him. No, let me correct that: he mumbled his one-word responses to my questions.
Okay, so, we get to the bar, and I ask the waitress what is on tap, and she lists them all and I order a Sierra Nevada (hey, I’m from California. I stay true to my beer! Well, that and it’s good.), and he ordered Blue Moon. She brings the beer and he starts talking about how much he really doesn’t like beer, and how he prefers liquor. Okay, let’s pause and discuss, shall we?
1) I will NEVER date a man who does not like beer. If he doesn’t like wine, fine. But beer? I don’t know why that bothers me so much, but it does, so there you go.
2) He wouldn’t drink the last inch of beer–”backwash” he said. I haven’t heard that since I was like 16. And you know what? If you’re afraid of backwash, don’t spit in your beer. And, let me tell you, he drank every last drop of his other drink, so I think it was complete discrimination against the beer. What the EFF!
3) Just because I ordred a beer, does not mean you have to. Please feel free to be your own person and order whatever you want.
Okay, so (I just noticed what time it is and I want to watch a movie, so I am going to finish this up kind of quickly!). The night continued on where I was asking questions adn he was answering in one or two words, or sometimes maybe elaborating, but was mumbling so I couldn’t hear. At first, I kept saying “What?” and leaning forward, but I got tired of saying what, and I got tired of giving him a better view of The Girls (my tits). He continued staring, by the way, all friggin evening. 40 minutes in, I had finished my beer, and he was eating the appetizer platter (it came with wings, cheesesticks, potato skins, and some kind of mushroom thing…he only ate teh wings and the cheesesticks….why would you spent $15 dollars on something and only eat two things? Why not spend the same amount of money ordering those two things and get a larger quantity? Whatever…), and the waitress came back and asked if we wanted another drink. I was all set to say NO!! CHECK PLEASE! and he ordered a rum and coke. aaargh! Fine, if I’m staying I am sure as hell DRINKING! So I ordered another.
I got about a quarter of the way through my next beer when I couldn’t handle it any more. I was tired of my boobs being stared at (I don’t know why I’m not more rude and didn’t say anything), and I was tired of carrying the conversation. So, I excused myself to the bathroom for the second time (the first time I went I texted a bunch of people saying I was on a bad date. You may have been one of those people. Feel special…actually, because I took so long in the “bathroom” texting the first time i told him that there was a long line. When I got back the second time, after actually using the restroom, he made a comment about me taking long and asked if there was a line again and I just said “no.” To which he shut up…which wasn’t anything new).
Anyways, on my way back from the bathroom, I stopped the waitress and told her I was on a bad date and begged her to bring us the check! To which she kindly did, and when Tom went to the restroom, she came over and listened to me complain about it. She asked how I met him and I lied and said we were set up (I couldn’t admit to a tiny attractive 21 year old that I am on Match!), and she said that whomever set us up was not a real friend. (haha!) And she also made a comment about how boring he seemed before I said anything.
So, she brought the check, I had put cash down before he said he would pay for it (I slipped the waitress a Five spot for helping me out, because what’s five dollars when he’s paying for the beers??). Then we got up to go, and he was suddenly chatty. Uuuuuugh! I just want to go HOME! He starts talking about how we need to hang out again soon, and I’m just nodding and edging away from him. And I finally say, “Okay! Well, talk to you later! Bye!” And I give him a half-ass hug, and turn to leave and he starts talking about hanging out again!!! What the fuck! No WAY he had a good time….oh wait. He stared at my tits for an hour, so maybe he had a decent time.
Anyways, I got the fuck out of there and headed for home. And, the SECOND I got off the subway, I had a message from him (which means he probably texted me like 5 minutes after we parted):
Nice meeting you tonight we should have a college night in the village soon haha
Haha, indeed. Apparently he found it humorous that I, at times, go to NYU college bars. Yeah, i know, it’s hilarious, right? Uuugh…
Oh! But I saw John Lithgow!! So the night was not a total and complete loss. (PS – the man is taaalll!!)
