You’re such a douche bag, your ego needs a sidecar

Everyone wants to know about my worst date ever and I don’t blame them; I’ve been on some great ones and some really terrible ones – especially lately. Last night’s date tops the charts and makes me want to stay in on a Friday night with some spaghetti Bolognese and my laptop (currently happening and I’m having a great time). I met Waldo (name has been changed so he doesn’t try something stupid, like sue me) 45 hours ago while I was walking towards my apartment. He drove by in his stealthy tinted car and asked me if I wanted a ride up the hill (red flag #1…there are several). I told him I didn’t get in cars with boys I don’t know and a limo tint. He seemed funny enough but eager to know me: when I moved here, where I’m from etc., all in a matter of two minutes. After some small talk he asked me for my number and for some stupid reason I gave it to him. Sure enough he texts me the next day to get some drinks. I finish at the spa at 8, we make plans to meet after that. Side note: He knows I was so busy I didn’t eat until 4 p.m. He picks me up on his bike (Harley, not some ridiculous neon green street thing – I would not have gone for such a thing) but not before he has to go back to his house because he forgot my helmet (red flag #2) and I notice he is going in the opposite direction that he said he lived in the night before…interesting. When I asked him why he said he lived up the hill when he actually didn’t, he informed me he was “a bit buzzed” when he was driving home the other night and he got lost taking the back roads (red flag #3). We cruise down the street and he informs me he’s taking a class at the Scientology center. That seems a little strange or a lot strange but I like weird shit so I want to see what’s up with this. Until he tells me we’re parking at the Scientology Center. I’m actually stepping onto Scientology turf. We park the bike and then he tells me he wants to show me around. Oh shit – but again, I like to touch the void so let’s do this. We’re poking around this compound which looks like Versace and Liberace got together and took over the décor and that’s when he holds my hand (red flag #4). Now, I’m not ice cold; I like physical contact, I hug, I snuggle, I kiss, I hold hands…with people I know. But I overlook this because I’m too busy scouring the bushes to see if Suri and Tom are in there, giggling about their new high heels. We make our way across the compound while he is audibly and rudely talking about what a cult the religion is – which may be true but how about we get off their turf before we say so? Finally walking across the street towards Birds (great chicken) I’m in the middle of telling him about The Copa when he blurts out “how tall are you?” (red flag #5). I finish my sentence and he says “you didn’t answer me” and I say “because I was talking. I’m five feet tall.” He says “you remind me of my high school girlfriend.” (#6 move on, super senior) I dismiss this as well because I figure we should at least have one fucking drink before I decide he is the most ridiculous idiotic human on Earth. While walking across the street he asks me what I’m doing for New Years and I tell him I don’t know yet, and then he says “getting a girlfriend is on my list for 2012.” (#8 I should have ran for dear life…shame on me) I’m explaining to him that I believe relationships should happen naturally and organically when, he walks by the valet guys and starts speaking Spanish to them – I guess this is supposed to impress me? Maybe he thinks I can’t speak another language, or understand it? He talks to them about how cold it is outside and the fact that he’s cold (in Spanish) and keeps walking. I asked him why he wasn’t wearing a coat if he’s cold (in English). He said he wasn’t cold, he feels fine (in English). Huh. Ok. We walk into the restaurant, he makes a bee line for the bar, which is packed so there are no seats. I decide to ask the host if he can seat us and he tells us the tables are for diners only. Waldo tells him we’re only getting drinks, which is awesome because I just got off work and haven’t eaten dinner but this guy wants to take me out at 9:30 p.m. For drinks. (#8 feed your fucking date) We grab a spot outside next to the lamps and he actually gives me the warm seat which is nice. Our server arrives seven seconds later, but I haven’t had a chance to look at the menu. However Waldo knows exactly what he wants and he’s getting a Johnny Walker Black with a splash of diet coke. I ask the server for another minute while I look over the wine menu which he says sounds “sleepy.” I’m not a big drinker, and I have to get up at 7 a.m. and I let him know both of these things. He says he’s not trying to pressure me into anything. This is where shit gets real. Waldo starts asking me about everything. I mean everything. He wants to know about me, my relationships, what’s wrong with me, why I’m so closed off and how I should be open to everyone. I tell him that isn’t how I function and that that shouldn’t come as a surprise to him, seeing as I was the very same person the night before. He tells me about his grandfather who is “83 to this day” (which doesn’t seem possible, but whatever) and how he has always been open to everyone. But I’m not, and I’m not going to be. He points out that this could be the reason I’m still single (#9 – where do I start.) and tells me that I’m mean but I’m probably a different person to people who know me. He proceeds to tell me about how closed off and guarded and broken and jaded and bitter I am and all the while I’m leaning further and further back in my chair – I can’t get more distance between Waldo and I. I try to tell him that he’s being a bit too forward and he needs to just chill out and have a good time but he is very adamant in letting me know that I need to calm down and chill out. I’m seriously so speechless at this point, I can’t think of anything to do but look everywhere else but at him, which he points out is my being paranoid. I look at my nails and he comments on how he’s sure I get them done allll the time. Like it’s a bad thing. He lets me know that I’m bad at dating and tells me I have Napoleon syndrome. I tell him I’m fine with my height, I actually love my height (truth) and he tries to explain to me that it seems like I’m trying to compensate for something. I tell Waldo in order for me to feel the need to compensate for something, would imply that I believe I have a shortcoming which is not the case. By this time, he's on Johnny Walker #2(#...I lost count). I've already decided to not get back on his bike. I try to change the subject to work which leads to my mother, leading to him saying I’m rude and mean because I don’t want to talk to him about my mother. There are probably 17 other put-downs I’ve probably forgotten but this is the last straw. I start digging through my purse, looking for my wallet while I tell him he’s called me rude and mean and neither are true. I fish out a $10 bill, throw it on the table and tell him bye. I don’t even leave through the front, I escape through a crack in the patio tarp and walk as fast as I can to my friend James’ place which is luckily ½ block away. In this time Waldo has already called me and texted me four times (see conversation below) Thank God James was watching a movie with a friend that night (+1). We passed around a jar of icing (+2) while talking about our horror stories and James juggled fruit (+3) and successfully made me laugh (+4). Oh, and he also fed me dinner (+1,000).
Listening to:
Don’t Stop (Unless you’re a d-bag on a motorcycle) by Foster the People
Nighttiming by Coconut Records
When did your heart go missing? By Rooney
West Coast by Coconut Records
Fader by The Temper Trap
Pull My Heart Away by Jack Penate
Something Good Can Work by Two Door Cinema Club
Passion Pit