This guy, we'll call him The Brit, messaged me, I checked his profile, and I wasn't so into it, so I ignored him. Well then he pulled the "Did I not pass your approval test?" line which made me feel like an asshole, so I said hello back, and it went from there. His picture actually was cute enough - he looked like a dark haired, kind of serious but possibly suave British guy with blue eyes.
Boy, can pictures lie.
He asked for my gchat, and we decided to grab drinks that upcoming Tuesday evening. He gchatted with me throughout the day Monday and Tuesday, and we actually got along quite well in conversation. I was actually a little nervous going into the date, hoping that I looked okay and making sure that my hair and make-up were all fresh.
I arrived at the bar at the Ace Hotel and saw him from across the room. I had been worried he might be a little short for my taste, but I could fully see his height upon walking in and was relieved that he was at least 1-2 inches taller than me. Crisis averted.
Til I rounded the corner and got the full view. You know how we ladies sometimes have weight challenges in the 'love-handle' area? Well, I think that the male equivalent is the 'spare tire' zone. And boy, was he packing a spare.
I had never been on a date that had turned out to be chubby, so I was caught off guard for a split second. It looked like he had attempted to be put-together, but something about it all just read 'sloppy' to me... Ugh, no bueno.
So we have our drink at the hotel bar, and then he immediately interjects that he has planned our next destination. Oh goody.
We walk a couple of blocks to an Italian wine bar on E. 28th Street - a cute place, but I totally was over this date already. There just wasn't a physical attraction, even I could admit that, and I don't know what it is, but when someone continually is telling you that you are 'lovely' all throughout any of your conversation, the whole thing just feels awkward.
Of course, The Brit insisted on ordering a bottle at this wine bar, and as I was with Volleyball Guy, I didn't feel badly when I made an excuse to run to the restroom right at the time that I knew the bill would come. Maybe I'm a jerk, but I did not opt for this second destination or a bottle of wine.
He had a third destination planned apparently, but I cut him short and told him that I had to be at a work meeting bright and early and had to get home - it was already pushing 11 pm at this point, and I felt that I had been polite for as long as I could possibly muster.
We left the wine bar, and as I was reaching up to dig in my purse for my Metrocard, he took the liberty of grabbing my left hand and interlocking our fingers. Ew. Hand holding to me is actually somewhat intimate - I'd first make out with someone before I opted to hold their hand even - and I was completely grossed out that he made such a ballsy move. I pulled it away slyly, and kept digging for the Metrocard.
We finally reached my train stop, and I tried to make a quick escape, but of course, The Brit had other plans. He grabbed my hand again and then asked, "Might I kiss you?" in that British accent that I was now completely turned off by. I pulled away and kind of giggled, "Oh nooo, I'm a good girl...I don't kiss on first dates." (Such a lie.)
He accepted defeat, asked for a next date, I eluded that question, and dashed into the subway.
I arrived home to a text, "I had a lovely time. When can I see you again?" I slept on it, figuring out what to do, and I decided to continue with my attempt at positive karma and wrote back, "Thank you so much for a nice evening. I really appreciate your asking, but I just don't think that I felt a romantic connection. I'd be interested in keeping in touch and being friends, if you'd like."
Gosh, I thought that was nice of me. At least I didn't ignore him, which he had mentioned on the date was one of his biggest pet peeves.
His response? "Well that's one bloody way to say good morning."
What a sore loser.
The biggest let down of the date? I think that he single-handedly has managed to ruin any of the Queen's accents for me: British, Australian, S. African...they all just sound annoying to me now. Bummer.
