Date from hell

So I thought dating in New York might be weird. Perhaps because most people stalk each other down on J Date or match.com or whatever other creepy ways people find dates for their Saturday evening. My most recent experience was pretty non-convention and might rank as my top 3 worst dates. Ever.

So from the beginning…I met this dude at a rando bar in Midtown. I was well beyond my 4 vodka tonic drink limit and when I picked up my credit card there the next day (duh, I left it) I had 6 tequila shots on my tab. Needless to say, I was beyond ridiculous.

We got to know each other (probably too much for public), I left with my roommate and thought this guy was out of sight and out of mind. The next day he called, I answered, he asked for “Ashley, the girl I met at Latitude last night,” and of course, I panicked. I quickly blurted out “You must have the wrong number” and hung up. He was relentless and continued to call and text every week or so and I continued to play stupid. Or just hungover.

I finally gave him the time of day and agreed to a date. BAD DECISION. We met at Max Brenner, a random place in Union Square that serves only chocolate and like two salads. To be honest, I was glad I got there first because I didn’t think I would recognize him. First of all, HE DIDN’T ORDER DINNER. I asked him why he didn’t want to eat and he said that since we planned on drinking afterwards he thought eating would be “counterproductive.” With a blank stare, “Are you planning on BLACKING OUT” I asked in disgust. He insisted that he didn’t but continue to just flip through the menu for two hours as I waited on my disgusting salad and envied other people as they looked like they were having fun on their dates.

After two hours of him complaining about being a minority and talking about white supremacy (awkward), we dashed to go get drinks so maybe this guy could pull the stick out of his ass and have some fun. Just like the way I met him.  And the way I like em. He finished his Jack and Coke before I even had a sip of my white wine and since he “wasn’t feeling it yet,” he wanted us to take shots. I would usually accept this offer, as long as it was tequila he was buying, but I refused because I was trying to be the lady that I definitely hadn’t been the first night we met. When I said no, he immediately said “I failed the test didn’t I?” I looked confused and he said, “Ok, we’re both adults. Rate the date. Like a scale from 1 – 10, rate the date.” I could not have finished my wine fast enough when I said “We should go. I’m not rating this date.”

Our final goodbye was at the subway where he said “So what are we? The ball is in your court” I got nowhere near ten feet from him and said “I won’t be calling you. So don’t hold your breath” and briskly walked to the 6 train, occassionally looking back to make sure stalker boy was nowhere in site.

Lesson learned: dating guys you met at a bar = stupid. Taking shots with a cute guy = good until he wants to do it on a first date. This means he has a problem. And you need to find a new date.