Easter Dating Disaster

Seeing as it is Easter Sunday I thought that it would be appropriate to provide my fabulous readers with an account of my worst Easter ever; which also happens to be a dating disaster.

This one has a whole lot of back story, but I promise it has to do with Easter. Names have been changed, mainly because I can, but also to protect identities and what-not.

In 2006 I moved into a house on Del Playa in Isla Vista, California, with 11 other people. It was awesome. I met tons to cool people and the friend’s I’d met the previous year in the dorms loved dropping by to drink on the beach with us. One such friend from the dorms introduced me to his close friends who had just moved from the Atascadero area. They were a year younger than me and it showed in their maturity level, not that I was much better-which you’ll agree with shortly.

One of the friends was named John. He was cute, but in my eyes very young. He had no clue what he wanted to do with his life; he was 18, in reality this was completely understandable, but I was year older and wiser and thought I had my future all planned out. He also had a huge crush on me, which he made very clear. I turned him down a few times, but he was persistent. We hung out a handful of times, playing beer pong and partying until the wee hours of the morning. One night, he kissed me, and I did nothing to stop him. That became our new thing, we would party and make out, but that was it. I just wasn't interested in anything further with “such a young guy”.

The more we partied, the more I got to know his roommate Mike. Mike was the opposite of John, he came off as mature and responsible, he knew what he wanted with his life and we secretly flirted when John wasn't looking. Yeah, we were super mature.

One night, we were all at my house playing drinking games when I excused myself to take a phone call in my bedroom. When I exited my room, Mike was coming out of the bathroom; we were completely alone and wasted no time once we made this realization. Within minutes he had me pinned against the wall as we shoved our tongues down each other’s throats. We started to back into my bedroom when John yelled to Mike to hurry up, apparently it was their turn to play beer pong. Although we weren't actually caught, we felt like we were and agreed not to act further until we discussed the situation with John. We weren't able to pull John aside to talk in private, so I got to spend the night dodging cuddles and kisses from John.

The next day Mike showed up at my house to tell me that he had had a long talk with John and although he was bummed, he gave us his blessing-and so began our mini-relationship.

We started dating a week or two before spring break and pretty much became joined at the hip for those two weeks. Basically the only time we were apart was when we were in class.

When spring break rolled around we suddenly found ourselves in a situation of separation. I was flying home to Connecticut for the week; he was driving home to Atascadero. He dropped me at the airport where we embraced for far too long spewing out some bull shit about how we’d miss each other “sooo” much, and then went our separate ways.  I remember being genuinely sad to be leaving him for a week.

We texted obsessively the first couple days, I was convinced we were soul mates and I was going through crazy relationship withdrawals. Then I took the train into New York City for a Metropolitan Museum of Art day. The MET was my second home growing up and is still my sanctuary. If I got the green light to choose my bed and move in, I’d do it in a heartbeat; and I know exactly which bed I’d choose-the one with the little cherubs hanging on the ceiling, in the renaissance wing of the museum.

I spent many days in my teen-hood at the MET and got to know a handful of the guards and other staff members. One such guard was Steven. He deserves his own blog entry, which will come eventually, but let’s just say Mike clearly was not my soul mate, which I learned when I ran into Steven.  After chatting with him for what felt like 10 hours (I think it was really 3 hours) I had forgotten all about Mike and was back to my non-relationship-flirty self.

When I returned to Santa Barbara a few days later, I had tasted single life again and was ready to embrace it in full. Mike picked me up at the airport, like a good boyfriend, telling me about the fun day he had planned for us. It was Easter Sunday and some friends were throwing a huge party that involved everyone bringing a food item that reminded them of their childhood Easter celebrations. I’m Jewish so I brought alcohol.

One of the dishes was something Lamb. I had never tried Lamb. Not for any religious reasons, it just never interested me, plus I always found Lambs to be rather cute. I was assured that I would like it, and was told I only had to try one bite. I did not like it.

 As it turns out I’m also allergic to Lamb. Within half an hour of eating it, I broke out into a cold sweat; I got dizzy and felt as though my stomach was going to burn out of my body. I stopped drinking when the room began to spin-which was from the allergic reaction, not the beer I’d had earlier. When Mike saw how ill I looked, he assumed I’d partied too hard and suggested going home. Naturally when we returned home my house was throwing a party, so there was no way I’d get rest there, so he suggested driving to his house.

I was sober, but sick, and volunteered to drive his massive pick-up truck because he was way too drunk to be driving. Holiday’s in Isla Vista mean hundreds of drunken people in the street and tons of cops wandering around on foot. The cops stopped us the second we tried to back out of my driveway. I explained that I was sober, but sick with a fever and was driving my boyfriend’s truck for the first time, to downtown where there was no partying, so I could sleep. Looking back, the cops should have made us call a cab. Instead, they directed us out of Isla Vista safely.

When we got to Mike’s, he tried getting all sexual with me, but I had a fucking fever and was not having any of it. I felt like crap and wanted to curl into a ball and sleep.  He kept trying and I told him to leave me alone, locking him out of his own bedroom. At one point I did allow him back in to sleep, making him promise he’d let up on the sexual crap. In the morning, my roommate picked me up from his house. I felt much better, the allergic reaction had subsided, although I did feel a little weak. Needless to say, Mike and I were done, although never verbally said “we’re breaking up” it was implied with the door slam in the morning.

What did I learn from the situation? When trying to end a relationship, eat something you are allergic to. This gives you an excuse to be as bitchy as you want. Also, I’m allergic to Lamb.

Disaster Date #3

Happy Sunday! :)

To keep up with the OK Cupid theme, here is the story of the first date I ever went on through that ridiculous dating website. This was the first of three, to get the details of the other two see my last two posts.

This particular date really wasn't that horrible, more uncomfortable than disastrous, but still worthy of a blog entry. I’d been living in SF for a little over a year; I was a few months out of a long term relationship and ready to get back in the dating game. A friend suggested OK Cupid; she had met her current boyfriend on the website and claimed a bunch of her friends met their current significant others through the site. I wasn't looking to jump back into a big relationship, but I thought dating someone new might be fun and figured it couldn't hurt to try.

*Side note, the friend who suggested it is now married to a guy she met on OK Cupid, I guess it works for some people.

Anyway, the first guy of any interest who contacted me was named Jeremy. He was attractive, witty and seemed like he actually knew what he wanted to do with his life. I think I was 22 and I had no clue what I wanted to eat for breakfast, let alone what I wanted to do with the rest of my life; hell, some days I still have no clue what I want to do with my life, although I'm pretty sure have a great outline: marry a pro-baseball player and be a stay-at-home mom with a kick-ass blog and have a killer tan.

Jeremy and I talked for a week or two and he seemed normal enough to me, so I agreed to meet him for drinks. I chose the bar, my go-to local bar The Dubliner and made sure to choose a night that a friend was working the bar. We made plans for 8:30 p.m., I showed up at 8 p.m. mainly because I was super nervous and didn't want to be late? Oddly enough, this was one of the few times muni was on time and got me to the bar in 5 minutes flat. Especially weird because the ride normally takes 15.

I told the bartender, Kyrie, why I was there, explaining that I was meeting a date from OK Cupid and that I was incredibly nervous because this was uncharted waters for me. She told me she completely understood and poured us both a shot of Patron (I don't know how to add the little accent above the O, imagine it's there). It didn't really help so I ordered a beer. As we got closer to 8:30pm, she could see how anxious I was getting and poured us both another shot. As we slammed the empty shot glasses on the counter a rather attractive man walked through the door, a rather attractive yet super short man. He got a big smile on his face and introduced himself as Jeremy. I’d completely forgotten to look at the “about me” section for his height. I’m 5’6”, I’m not a giant, but I easily towered over him. I’m guessing her was 5’2” and I’m pretty sure he was wearing lifts. He was well dressed with dark jeans, a dark green sweater and a blazer. I love when men wear blazers casually, over a t-shirt or sweater; such a sexy look.

So, at this point I’m 2 shots and most of a beer into the night and its only been half an hour. He suggests going upstairs to play some pool. He led the way and as soon as he has his back to me I caught eyes with Kyrie, she pointed to a bottle with a little green leprechaun on it and we errupted into drunken giggles. Poor Jeremy had no clue we were laughing about him; he couldn't help the fact that I was drunk and he greatly resembled the small green man on the bottle. Actually, he could have chosen a different sweater color.

We played a couple games of pool, Kyrie brought up a refill beer at one point and gave me that “do you need an escape look” but I was actually having a really nice time so I gave her a quick shake of the head and she retreated back to the bar. After playing pool we sat and chatted for a while. The conversation somehow drifted towards height and what a struggle being short had been for him in life; that he always had to ask strangers to reach things down from high places and had to stand on a chair in his kitchen to reach things down from the top shelf.

My drunk ass found this to be funniest thing I’d ever heard. Yup, I sat and laughed as this poor guy poured his heart out to me. I tried to lessen the blow by explaining that I was picturing him struggling on a chair to reach a plate in his kitchen, but for some odd reason he acted insulted and changed the subject. Looking back, I probably would have left if the tables had been turned-he was much more patient with me than I deserved.

We decided to go back down to the bar to finish our drinks. The entire time at the bar Kyrie and one of the regulars, Elliott  made faces at me, thus making me laugh even harder. At this point Jeremy had clearly had enough and announced that it was late and he should really be getting home. It was midnight, so I guess it was teetering on the late side. He'd put up with me for almost four hours! I began to look up the muni schedule but he insisted on driving me home, something about me being way too drunk to be on public transit alone. I lived about 8 blocks away and stood contemplating for way too long whether I should let a stranger drive me home or try my luck with muni. After getting two public drinking tickets in Santa Barbara I decided to try my luck with this small stranger. Kyrie made me text her every time we stopped at a light and the second I walked through my door.

Jeremy was actually a really good guy. I had him drop me a block from my apartment, because I didn't want him to know where I lived-in case he changed his mind and wanted to come back and kill me. I hugged him goodbye, thanked him for a fun night. He sped away the second my feet touched the sidewalk.

Needless to say, I did not go on a second date with Jeremy; but every year on March 17th I’m reminded of that incredibly awkward date.

Dating Disaster #2

As promised, here’s OK Cupid date disaster number two. I really had high hopes for this one, which was probably my first mistake.

His name was Graham, he was 26 (I had just turned 24), he had a full time job in the city doing something adult-ish, like accounting, he was Jewish and according to his pictures he was tall and in great shape. He emailed me with some line about me being his mom’s dream girl; I was attractive, college educated and Jewish, this made me giggle so I decided to give him a shot. We emailed back and forth for a couple of weeks until he finally asked me out to dinner. I suggested trivia night at my favorite bar, which was also close to home aka within running distance to safety. He said he was "down" for that but wanted to take me out to dinner first and suggested one of the most expensive restaurants in the area. Maybe I’m weird, but I have this thing were I don’t like having a first date somewhere expensive. If he "forgets" his wallet I end up paying I don’t want to be out an insane amount of money for a crap date with a guy I’m never going to see again-I imagine that’s how guys think on first dates too? Anyway, I told him pizza would be quicker especially if we were planning on making trivia at 8, so we decided on a casual pizza place down the street from the bar.

We met at the pizza place at 7pm. I got there a few minutes early and waited out front looking for a tall, muscular, attractive man. Instead I was approached by a short, rather plump, unattractive male, who was slightly balding. Clearly this guy was a photo-shop pro had very short friends. I was pissed, but really wanted to go to trivia so I decided to suck it up and go to dinner with him, maybe looks weren't everything?

He was loud, spoke with food in his mouth and wouldn't shut up. He talked non-stop about himself and his insanely boring life. When the check came, I tried paying for my share, he refused, we argued for a few minutes and I finally agreed to buy the drinks at the bar if he paid for dinner. He told me I reminded him of some chick from some TV show, I think it was  mean as a compliment but it was lost on me.

We made it to trivia just as it was about to begin. Within minutes of getting there I ran into a few friends; we hugged and caught up for a minute or two then they joined their table for trivia and I turned back to Graham. I swear I chatted with the girls for a total of two minutes, I introduced them to Graham, I wasn't excluding him at all, and yet he says, “Oh hi, I thought you’d forgotten about me, you know, your date.” I laughed and said, “Sorry, hadn't seen them since our college days!” He just rolled his eyes and mumbled something about expecting me to pay more attention to him. Umm, seriously? I order another drink and focus on trivia, telling myself that it will all be over soon. Did I mention he talks a lot? I forgot to mention that he was also a know it all. We’d get questions that I knew like, “What city is the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in?” I've been there, many times, so I'd write down Cleveland, Ohio. He would get angry and tell me that he’s 100% positive that I’m wrong, there is no Rock and Roll in Cleveland and would change the answer to something moronic, like L.A.. This happened with over half the questions and every single time we got the question wrong. I was less than pleased-I was hoping to win the $50 bar tab.

That’s when my friend Faye walked in with some shitty news. The show I’d worked on for a year at CBS had just gotten cancelled. Although I was no longer working on the show, I was still close with the staff and felt horrible for them! I was devastated and excused myself from the date to step outside to call one of the producers to see how he was holding up. We chatted for a good ten minutes, he was touched that I'd called and vented about his future and supporting his family, etc. Maybe it was rude of me to call my friend while on a date, but it was important to me and Graham was being a jerk. When I returned I was visibly upset as was Graham; he was pissed that I dared console a friend while on a date with him. Icing on the cake was when he ordered his next drink, which he needed to make himself feel better about being ditched for ten minutes. Erin, the bartender who also happened to be one of my close friends, was at the other end of the bar, you know, serving drinks. Well Graham wanted a drink and apparently didn't want to wait like a normal person, instead he snapped his fingers at her and said, “Barkeep, yo barkeep, I need another.” She took one look at him, one look at me (pity in her eyes) and turned her back to him and continued serving drinks at the other end of the bar. He was not humored and got louder, demanding she serve him another drink. At this point I told him that I was too upset about my friends show getting cancelled and wanted to call it a night. We walked out together, he got on muni, I waved goodbye and I walked back into the bar and finished trivia with my friends.

The next day I got a text from him apologizing for his behavior the night before. He stated that he was acting like a horrible boyfriend and should have been more comforting in my obvious time of need, then offered to come over if I needed a shoulder to cry on. Uh, boyfriend? 

I told him I appreciated the apology, but I don’t see us having a future. He was devastated and asked me to reconsider, that he really didn't see this break up coming, especially via text message.

Dating Disaster #1

Maybe I’m just bored at work, or maybe the random blogs I was killing time reading got in my head. Either way, I’m inspired to write; which is exactly what I’m going to do.

One of the blogs I stumbled upon earlier highlighted the writer’s disaster OKCupid date. As I read it I thought, I can totally top this. Not only with a handful of horrific OKCupid dates, but with a bunch of other catastrophes ranging from the “never should have met you again sober” to “I hate my friend for thinking this blind was a good idea”. Therefore, this is the start of my new blog series: Dating Disasters.\

I guess I’ll begin with my OKCupid experience. I went on a total of 3 dates from the popular dating website, each one was worse than the previous one. Let’s start with the most recent, because it is fresh in my mind and one of my worst dating experiences, of my life.

Let me preface by saying that all of my OK experience happened while still living in San Francisco. I have heard great things about the dating website from friends around the country, including SF; unfortunately I did not fare as well as they did. On one particularly rainy SF night, I was bored in my room contemplating braving the rain and walking to my local dive bar for a drink when I got an email from OK that I’d received a new message. It caught my attention because it was sarcastic and the guy was decent looking in his picture-plus he was Jewish which was a plus (for my mom more so than me); so I decided to write him back. We chatted via email for a while, which helped pass the time as it poured outside. Before I went to sleep, we exchanged phone numbers and promised to text tomorrow. Wow, even as I write this I’m depressed by how dependent I am on technology…

The following morning, I woke up to a “good morning” text, aww, how sweet. I was convinced I’d found my soul mate. We spent the day sending cute texts to each other-every chance I got at work I was in the back room checking my phone and responding to one witty text after another. After a few days of this we decided it was time to meet for drinks, so we made plans for the following Friday. I was working until 10pm that night and chose a bar nearby to meet him at, Gold Dust. For those of you who are familiar with SF, you now know how long ago this date occurred-Gold Dust was still in business. Man, I miss that bar.

I ended up getting out of work a few minutes early and made my way to the bar. I ordered a drink and started talking to two older women; they had to be in their 60’s. They were on vacation and although they’d only been there a night, they loved San Francisco. I told them that I was waiting for a guy I’d met online, this made them giggle and we came up with a signal in case he turned out to be a creep. It consisted of rubbing my nose frantically.  I finished my drink and realized he was 10 minutes late. Rude. Not a great first impression. As I begin to bitch to my new best friends, I feel a tap on my shoulder. I look up-not very far I might add, he totally lied about his height-and finally looked face to face with the guy I’d been texting for the last week.

“Hi! Melvin?” I asked, trying to sound coy. “No, I’m just some random guy-um, yeah, Melvin,” followed by, “This place blows, let’s find somewhere a little bit classier.” My new best friends immediately began frantically rubbing their noses.

I told him I had to say goodbye to my friends and would meet him outside. I assured them that I would be ok and told them it was probably just too noisy, that he wanted somewhere quieter to talk. We exchanged numbers and they told me to text them every half hour to ensure my safety.

After discussing where to go for a good five minutes and getting harassed by four homeless people, we decided on Lefty O’Doul’s; well, I decided on it, he wanted to go to the top of the Mark. I was not dressed for it, nor could I afford a night of drinking at their rooftop bar, so I suggested a “quiet bar” aka total dive.

We found a table in the very back, away from all human interaction and settled down to look at the drink menu. Seconds after sitting a waitress came over to take our drink order and check our ID’s. I think I was 24, he was around 28. I handed her my ID and he says (I kid you not), “It looks real, huh? I told her it was money well spent.” The waitress looked at me skeptically. I assured her I was in fact over 24; she did not believe me. I explained that he thought he was being funny, that it’s a first date and is probably just trying to break the ice. She glared at me as if to say I wasn't going to get away with lying on her watch, and then quizzed me on all of my personal information. When she ran out of things to quiz, she left to get our drinks, but not before stopping to confer with the bartender; thankfully, I’m an alcoholic and I like to get to know my bartenders-he glanced over, waved, and assured her I was good to serve. Melvin thought this whole ordeal was the funniest situation of his life.

I decided that he was simply nervous and passed off the hellish “fake ID” crap as an immature attempt to make me laugh. We began chatting about ourselves. He went to Harvard where he studied Business. He hates his job but doesn’t want to go through the college crap again, so he’s stuck suffering at a boring 9-5. He thought it was hot that I’m an intellectually inferior Connecticut girl who only went to SF State.  He was concerned that if things escalated between us, romantically, he wouldn’t remember to dumb things down for me in conversations. We’re only ten minutes into the date and he has made the waitress doubt my age and insulted my intellect. The waitress comes by to see how we’re doing. I down my drink and order another; her eyes clearly say, “I’m so sorry you’re stuck on a date with this guy.”

Drink number two arrives (third of the night for me) and we somehow begin discussing family. He tells me that for all he knows his family is no longer alive. He left at 18 and never looked back. He hated his parents, his mom for being fat and his dad for letting her eat. Women should only eat lady-like things, like salad, but be able to cook well for their husbands. Was this the same guy I’d been sending flirty texts to all week?! What the fuck was happening?

I’m halfway through my drink when he asks how my relationship with my family is. I tell him that we’re actually very close. I try to talk with my mom daily. He looks at me life I’m a Martian and begins telling me how little respect he has for me and the fact that I have a good relationship with my family is insane. He tells me that it’s time to grow the fuck up and leave my family behind; old things are meant to be things of the past. This was the icing on the already shitty cake. I texted the women from earlier that I need an escape. I lie and tell him I have to go help a friend. He offers to come with. I tell him it’s a solo mission. He says that the night is still young (it was 11pm at this point, yeah, I ended the date after 45 minutes) and suggests that I help my friend then call him so we can still have fun. I lie and say I have work early. He finally agrees to let me go, but insists on walking me to my next destination. I couldn’t tell him I was going back to Gold Dust, so I had him walk me to Muni. He bought a ticket and wanted to wait on the platform with me until my train came. The creep wouldn’t leave me alone! So, I got on a train, waved goodbye, rode the train one stop, hopped off and doubled back to the bar where I hung out with the awesome older ladies for an hour, laughing about what an idiot Melvin had been. I then grabbed a train home and called it a night.

The following morning I woke up to a text from him, complaining that we hadn’t had sex the previous night. Seriously?!?! Did he honestly think sex was on the table after I bailed on the date a 45 minutes? I chose not to respond, mainly due to the fact that I was incredibly hung over and typing into my phone made me feel nauseous, but also because he was a jerk.

He texted me again later that day, asking when I wanted to hang out again; apparently he had a really great time, you know, putting me down and criticizing every aspect of my life. I kindly responded that I felt we were both in two very different places in our lives right now, and I just didn’t see a future for us. He didn’t respond so I assumed I was done with him. Nope. Never assume a happy ending with dealing with someone who is clearly a psychopath.

A few days passed and I heard nothing, I began to heal from the trauma of the date from hell and even accepted a date with a guy I’d met at a bar with friends (a story for another blog post, I promise). That was when the daily texts began; each one more confusing that the last-I think he was trying to drive me insane. The first simply read, “I know, right?”. I assumed he had sent it to the wrong person and ignored it. The next day I got one that read, “She did not wear those shoes with that shirt. Ewe.” At this point I began to glance around myself to ensure he wasn’t following me, I thought maybe he had become my own personal stalker. I didn’t notice him anywhere (who knows, maybe he camouflaged) so I ignored it and went on with my day. The third text, which came the third day read, “I don’t understand why fat people think it’s OK to go out in public.” I’m assuming that one was a jab at his mom? Maybe they finally had a reunion. Again, I ignored. Texts like these continued for 7 days, each getting more detailed and targeting people or races. Finally I sent him a text, apologizing if I hadn’t made myself clear before but I’m not interested in pursuing any sort of relationship with him, romantic or platonic. I also asked for him to please stop texting me, it’s inappropriate and has to stop. His response? “Who is this?”

I did end up learning a very valuable lesson through the whole ordeal: How to block someone’s number to prevent them from texting you in the future. Yeah, there’s an app for that J

Clashing Manners

I'm not sure if it's really "Manners" but for lack of a better word, that is this blog post's title.

Tonight I encountered a difficult situation and I can't decide whether or not I'm overreacting, perhaps it is simply that people on the West Coast were raised differently than those of us who hailed from the East Coast?

Here's what happened:

For those of you who don't know, I have move about 2 hours south of San Francisco and I am now the Director of Membership for a rather successful gym. With the new job title comes a whole lot of responsibility and a team of employees. Some are better than others, as is with any business.

A few nights ago, after sending the new schedule out, one of my employees comes into my office crying wondering why I cut her hours. I explained that she had a goal of 30 sales the previous month-she made 3. Representatives from other departments outsold her. She's been icy towards me ever since, this was mistake number one. She should be proving to me that she's an asset, not pouting and giving me, the boss, a cold shoulder.

I had today off. I went into work to take an exercise class and stuck around the extra half hour to help the team close. I was off the clock but felt this was the decent thing to do-it was only half an hour after all. Well, one member of the club was still there when we closed; she was waiting for her ride. We can't leave until everyone is out of the building. One of my new hires volunteers to stay; I mention that is anyone is going to stay alone it would have to be me. His reaction? He says, "OK, bye then" and clocks out. The problem employee follows suit. The only person who offered to stay was from a different department.

Moral of the story? Leaving me to close up the place alone, on my day off-not cool. Instead of getting angry though, I'm going to get even. The new hire is still on probation he has a 90 day trial period as is California law, so that one is easy. The problem child? Remember when she cried about getting cut hours? That was 15 to 12 hours. Can't wait to see the tears when she's cut from sales altogether.

Yeah, don't give the boss attitude. Not when there are people lining up for your job, who will and can do it 100x better.

So, venting aside, is this a Cali thing? I mean, at my old crappy retail job everyone ran out the door the second the manager told us we could clock out, I was always the last one out; I stayed to make sure the manager got out safely. There are some shady people out there. Was I simply raised better than people I've encountered or is this a Cali thing that I need to get used to? If it is a Cali thing, that's reason enough NOT to raise my future children here.