Dating Blog #2: A Bad, Bad First Date

Tag : women tshirt

Another terrible first date was with a classmate. Let's call himChris.
Chris and I had been in several classes together over the years. Iwasn't ever too impressed with him: a teenager in a 27-year-old'sbody, he was one of those arrogant and pompous people in class whohas something snobby to say about everything. He wasn't even that attractive.
We finally started talking more when we had our final masters classtogether. I didn't know anyone in the class, so I always sat besidehim. Consequently, we became friendly and he became the luckyrecipient of my witty repartee at the expense of our otherclassmates. Let's just say, we bonded.
We began talking on Facebook, and though I certainly wasn't interested in him, I was newly out of a relationship andlonely. I wanted to go out and have some fun. Chris was an avowedpartier. Twenty seven, lives with parents, no job, drinks everyday... that type. So when he invited me out, I accepted.
My first mistake was my clothes. I entered the Outland, a bar indowntown Springfield. I was dressed as my normal cute self,complete with bouncy, curly red hair, trendy shoes, flashy redpurse, and white, glittery top. Your typical 20-something collegeprep. I entered a bar filled with smoke. Through the haze Inervously made out several hostile stares from every motorcyclegang member in the Springfield metro area. Women in black leather,bandanas, and mohawks stared me down as their tattooed boyfriendsglared at me through bushy facial hair. I tried to make myselfvery small as I waited for Chris.
When Chris arrived, sporting his usual Grateful Dead tshirt, hebought us drinks and proceeded to talk about... himself. I sat,slumped over my drink, chin in hand, and stared with glazed eyes atan overhead clock as the seconds ticked by. He didn't even notice.Eventually I stopped being polite and responded only with vague,"Mmm-hmmm"s. He still didn't notice.
The crowning glory came about a decade (twenty minutes standardtime) later. Still blissfully oblivious to my glazed expression,Chris turned to be and announced proudly--and I quote---"So, Idon't know if you've noticed, but I've really been working outlately." It is important to note that while he said this, he actually flexed his arms.
This was too much. I snorted aloud, tried too late to catch myself,and ended up with a half-snort/half-cough and my hand clapsed overmy mouth.

"What?" he asked, genuinely not understanding.
"Nothing," I gasped between my clenched fingers.
"Well," he continued blithely, whipping out his walletand pulling his driver's license out, "I've seriously lostweight. Look how much better I look in this picture!"
I couldn't believe it. Was this guy for real? I thought I'd slippedout of the Outland bar and into a reality full of clichedexpressions. It was too terrible to be true.
Gazing off into space, I tried needlessly to hide my boredom."Mmm," I offered hesitantly, grasping for a conversationstarter. "This band sounds good."
"What?!" he shouted, straining to hear me over the noise."You think my hair looks good?"
It was beyond belief. I straightened my back, pulled out my phoneto call a friend to bail me out of there, and looked him straightin the eye. "Yes," I replied seriously. "I thinkyour hair looks good."