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Wednesday, August 19, 2015

Not Another Drunk Date.

Hi again! It's the Nugget, and have I got a story for you. It all started with a few pleasant messages, which resulted in a date request. I happily accepted, and we made a date for that Sunday. He would be doing some work in the city next to mine, so offered to meet at a bar at 3pm in that city. 3pm didn't work for me, as I had some things to do that day, so I offered a later time, which he agreed to. As I was looking up directions, the website stated that the place he chose closed soon after our new meeting time. I brought this up, and suggested a place close by with lovely waterfront views and several other options nearby. He agreed.

When I arrived, we had a perfectly lovely conversation as he drank his second beer (he had gotten there before me). He was a little shy and awkward at first, but aren't we all? It was getting a little chilly as he was finishing his second drink, so I suggested a nearby restaurant/bar with a fire pit. We scored a seat around the fire, and he ordered another beer and a shot. I ordered a glass of wine.

Shortly after the shot, our conversation started to take a weird turn. He would bring up topics that were really inappropriate for a first date (example: talking extensively about poop, as he was a medic previously and dealt with it a lot). He would ask me questions, and then as I started to answer, immediately interrupt with other questions. When he started slurring his words, I started to get alarmed. I realized with horror that he had probably been at the previously mentioned bar since our original time of 3pm, and drinking for 4 hours.

Around this time, the waiter came to ask if we needed anything else. I ordered a second glass of wine, and asked for the bill. When the bill arrived, he grabbed it and gave his card. It was declined, so I paid. While the waiter was inside running my card, he spent the entire time checking his bank account and trying to prove to me that his card should not have been declined. I had no idea what to say, so I just smiled and nodded sympathetically. When the waiter returned, I signed my receipt, and he practically accosted the waiter, demanding his card be re-run. We both gently advised him that the bill had already been paid and it was unnecessary. He eventually quieted down.

I was trying to make small talk while finishing my glass of wine, and he kept interrupting, shouting in my face, "What is your name short for?!" and would throw out name options. Keep in mind that I had already shared this with him during our conversation earlier that day, and yet he shouted this at me no less than three times. I quickly finished my wine, wondering how to get out of this situation. He then looks at me (or, rather, lolls his head in my general direction), and says, "Let's get out of here and go to your place. I want to lay with you." I politely declined. He then says, "Well, that's BORING." I had had quite enough, so I said, "So is this situation," set down my glass, and walked out.

A couple of days later, I received a text from him along the lines of, "Hey, I had a great time, would you like to go out again?" I replied, "Do you even remember what happened?" He said, "Not really, but I think you may have left abruptly, did I say something stupid? I have a weird sense of humor." I reminded him that he called me boring when I refused to have sex with him. He said, "Oh, that was a joke." I said, "No, it most certainly was not, and even if it were, perhaps getting blackout drunk on a first date is a bad idea. Take care."

Tuesday, August 11, 2015

Salty Nuggets

You guys. The Nugget here, and I am back to dating, and I am salty about it. Like, real bad, and it's only been a few weeks. Let me give you just a taste of why.

I had been trading messages with this dude for a few days, and on Friday, he asks me my following week's schedule to see when we could meet up. I give it to him, and on Saturday he says, "Tuesday could probably work for me. I'll call you in a bit to coordinate."

Saturday, no call. Sunday, no call. Monday, no call, so I make other plans and forget he ever existed. Tuesday morning, I get a message: "Hey, I'm going to call you in a bit to coordinate."

I reply, "Actually, I hadn't heard from you in a few days, so I made other plans, sorry." His response, "What? We didn't have any plans. I was going to call to see if we could do tomorrow or Thursday."

I said, "Your last message said Tuesday, and you would be calling to coordinate. I'm not free tomorrow or Thursday." (which is true, I have dates both days).

He replied, "I know that I had mentioned Tuesday, but it didn't end up working for me, which is why I couldn't follow up to make a plan for today. When you have a free minute (lunchtime, after work, etc.), let's move our conversation to the phone, because it's not clear whether or not your messages on here have a pissy tone, and I'm hoping that they don't."

I said, "You should have followed up to let me know that Tuesday didn't work for you."

His response: "You're actually wrong (and surprisingly cocky in your wrongness). I had said that Tuesday MIGHT work, and we never made even a tentative plan. Anyway, it's now clear that my hunch was correct and that you're pissy. The last thing that someone needs from you (especially since you're a jaded, cocky, mid-30s, mediocre-looking, East Bay person who insists on discussing things via e-mail) is advice regarding dating, so please don't contact me again. (Since your passive-aggressive approach indicates that you'll probably try to continue this dialogue against my request, I've blocked your account, so any future messages from you will fortunately be redirected into cyberspace.) Good luck."

So, because I asked that I be reasonably kept in the loop when someone asked me to reserve a day to potentially meet up, I am now cocky, ugly, and a host of other things. And THAT, ladies and gentlemen, is just a sampling of why I'm feeling jaded.