I... like... you.
You have... really nice...
— Check
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 out to eat. A meal is a meal, and a free meal is better.
My first post-Larry date was burgers with a guy named Tyler.
He said, "I hear you worked at The Boxtan Inn for a while. That place is rough."
I oh-so-eloquently replied, “Wha? Uhh. Yeah. The Boxtan's kinda sketch, but it was cool. 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'm not good at small talk.
My next date was at Denny's with a guy named Raul. He wasn't good at small talk either. His first question was, "Are we gonna fuck?"
I said, "Ask me again after dinner."
After dinner, he found out the answer was no.
"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 they even have names? Most guys are the same, so does it really make a difference which one you're talking to? Honestly?
No.
This guy spent the entire evening staring at me. That was creepy, but his words made it worse.
"I... like... you."
Uh oh.
"You have... really nice... face."
Oh, no.
"We should..."
"Check?!!"
Then there was Wayne. I call him The B. 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 and your B. 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 shit like Dungeons & Dragons, this'll be the best date I ever had!"
His eyes started to well up.
And then came a tear.
"Oh, fuck. It was just a joke. 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.