I... like... you.
You have... really nice... face.
— Nameless
After Larry left, I got talked into giving dating another try.
Lorraine said, "The easiest way to get over a guy is to get under another one."
Yeah, well. No man is above me. But it's not like I had anything else going on, so, what the hell. I let a few of 'em take me to Denny's. A meal is a meal, and a free meal is better.
My first post-Larry date was with a guy named Marco.
"I hear you worked at the Boxtan Inn for a while," he said. "That place is rough."
I said, "Sure, yeah, The Box was kinda sketch, but it was entertaining, y'know? One day, a guy tried to rob the joint, so I whapped him in the crotch with a hose and sent him down a flight of stairs before I tied him up and held him at gunpoint. With his gun, not mine. I don't have a gun. God, that was fun. I don't like guns. Gonna eat those fries?"
I've never been good at small talk.
My next date was with a guy named Jacob.
He said, "I'm workin' on restoring an old muscle car. It's a beauty. You got a car?"
"Me? No. Not yet, but I borrow 'em when I need 'em, y'know? I like older cars too. Less electronics."
He said, "Oh yeah, I love old cars! I got me an old Dodge and okay it's not really a muscle car but it's kinda cool and once I fix it up you know..."
He wasn't good at talking. At all.
And wow. He was still going.
"...like you see in the movies but not the new ones with all the fake CGI more like Mad Max man that was so..."
So much wow.
"...and I totaled a car once man that was nothin' like you see in the movies."
"Check, please?"
My next date was with a guy named...
Y'know what? I don't remember his name, and I don't care. Why do guys even have names? Most of 'em are the same, so does it really make a difference which one you're talking to? Honestly?
No.
This guy spent the evening staring at me, which was creepy, but his talking was worse.
"I... like... you."
Uh oh.
"You have... really nice... face."
He. Was. Not. Good. At. Anything.
"Check?"
Then there was The B. That's what I call him, anyway. He took me to a coffee shop for espresso and cream cheese bagels. Espresso is stupid. There's less in the cup, but it costs more? Come on.
The B was well spoken and he looked well dressed, until we reached our table. When he took off his jacket, my jaw dropped.
He was wearing a black T-shirt that said "Have Fun Staying Poor," written over a giant B logo. I did not approve of the message.
"Oh, fuck you, man. Fuck you. You have no idea what it means to be poor."
He called me a bitch as I walked out. With our bagels. They were good.
Next, there was Eric.
For an ice-breaker, I said, "I swear to God, as long as you don't start talking about Dungeons & Dragons, or some shit like that, this will be the best date I've ever had!"
His eyes started to well up.
And then came a tear.
"Oh, fuck. I didn't think you actually were gonna talk about..."
And then came the waterworks, as he screamed, "IT'S AN INCREDIBLE GAME! YOU JUST DON'T UNDERSTAND!"
So that went well.
"Check!!!???"
But no mate.
And dating?
I was not good at this. But it was only going to get worse.