Monday, November 5, 2012

Taking Back Sunday

Nugs: As the token single girl here at Snark & Sex, I'm also the only one of us that's still maneuvering through the amusing, eluding and often embarrassing world of first-dating. Here in LA this has become increasingly difficult; maybe due to the fact that not everyone will be as impressed as I am at my ability to numerically recite all the doctors from Doctor Who (backwards and forwards!) and say "no" in Klingon (although armed with this so-called skill I seriously doubt that I should be saying "no" to anyone).

When I lived in New York, I wouldn't call myself a dating expert, of course, or all your wedding invitations would be in the mail. I did, however, have a few serious relationships, and some less important (but just as fun) ones in between. Of course, I also had a weakness for bartenders and guys in bands. You live, you learn- supposedly.

Ginny: I used to be all about the band dudes and bartenders. What was I thinking? I probably wasn't thinking....

Nugs: There's like a hierachy of Guys We Shouldn't Sleep With But Totally Do Anyway. Those are like, Numbers 1 and 2.

Anyway, then I moved to LA, and meeting a decent guy has not been easy to accomplish- most don't get past the "getting my number" phase, if that. I think in the few years that I've lived here, off and on, I've been on maybe four dates, including one that was so bad that I almost converted so I could join a convent. This, BTW, is a common complaint with most of the girls that I've met here as well.

Tits: She goes on and on about how guys in LA are just the worst and I keep saying they can't be any worse than guys everywhere else. So can any else living in LA validate Nug's experiences that LA guys are the worst?

Nugs: ****crickets****

Then, a couple of weeks ago, I was at my friends' band's show, and the guy next to me started a conversation. He was cute, and tall, had good taste in music and we knew some of the same people. We stepped outside so we could actually speak to each other without screaming, and when I mentioned that my other friend was playing the next night, he asked for my number. "Yeah, this'll happen," I thought, but I gave it to him anyway.

Ginny: You go girl!

Nugs: Yeah, not so fast with those accolades, there.

The next day I was with my dad, watching the Jets' humiliating loss to the Pats (quiet, Ginny), when I got a text from Champagne Supernova, so named because if I could predict the future, I would have foreseen the 75 drinks he consumed in an hour long period.


Yes, let's PLEASE bring this up as often as possible.

Ginny: *spikes ball Gronk style* YEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!

Nugs: Go a little to the left; that's my artery. How did those Red Sox do, BTW?

He asked me what time my friends were going on, and I told him 10:30, but I was going in early to eat. He didn't take that bait, but we texted on and off randomly through the rest of the day. I thought there was a chance this might actually occur, but it's me, so it would most likely be hilarious/horrific.

Ginny: Ok why would he not be like "oh do you want to have dinner together then?" Not a deal breaker but more of a thing to ponder about.

Nugs: Right? Definitely what I was thinking.

I arrived at the venue around 9:45, so I texted Champagne Supernova to let him I know I was there, and he should let me know when he arrived so I could get him in. I stood there by myself like a jackass and it was incredibly awkward until a few of my friends showed up around 10:15 and we grabbed a table. At exactly 10:30 Champagne Supernova told me he was 20 minutes away, which would have been more annoying if I weren't with a group of people already, who as it turned out were having a party that night and kept trying to convince me to leave with them. I finally called Champagne Supernova at 11:30 and asked how far away he was, and he was "parking." An hour late. This is usually a huge deal killer with me, considering he hadn't even thought it appropriate to give me a heads up.

Tits: So wait, his date was to go to a concert you were already going to because its your friend's band? Thats not a date that's him conveniently showing up. -10 for being a lazy ass.

-110 for showing up an hour late. UNACCEPTABLE. I don't even like IMac to show up 15 minutes late. I'm all "bitch my time is just as important as yours and I don't have time to wait around on your inconsiderate ass."

Ginny: Showing up late on the first date is very bad. And it doesn't seem like he really cared.

Nugs: He also texted me asking if I smoke weed, because he was going to pick some up. Look, I don't give a shit whether you do or you don't, and especially in LA, the majority that do is astronomically high. It just seemed like bad form to ask that over text when we hadn't even gone out yet, and considering he was already late, DON'T MAKE ANOTHER STOP. Also, where did he assume we were going to partake in this activity, because seeing as how this was Date #1, was I just going to come over to his house?

Ginny: Dude have some class and tone down the grass (ok that was lame I'm sorry)

Nugs: I actually laughed at that.

Tits: -50 because What the Hell was he thinking? But +50 to the bear because he's awesome.

Nugs: Strongly agree. Up top.

Anyway, he finally arrived, and since by this time the band was totally over, we decided to hit up a really awesome bar that I was familiar with and was close to my apartment, so I could run if necessary. We took a seat, and I noticed that he didn't open any doors for me, pull out my chair, or whatever. I'm totally capable of doing these things for myself, of course, but it would have been nice, especially since he was an hour late. He also spent the entire dinner on his phone, Facebooking, and barely made any eye contact. It's like, if you're not even going to try, why should I bother? My friends' party started to seem pretty appealing.

Ginny: !!!!!!!!!!!!! (*$&$(&%*)$%) *$#()%)U !!!!!!!!! just NO. So rude.

Tits: And this is when I would have been like I have to go... wash my hair/ get a root canal/reload my pistol so that when the zombie invasion comes I have a reason to murder you (don't judge you know if the zombie invasion happened there are some people who you would kill and be all "Wut they weren't a zombie just a horrible person? Same dif.).

We sat down, and Champagne Supernova informed me that he originally wasn't going to come because he was tired. "So like, you were just going to stand me up?" "No, I was going to tell you. I'm not a dick." Yeah, I'll be the judge of that. He also let me know that at the last minute he did decide to shower, and when he told me he was "20 minutes away" he was actually still at his house because he had just woken up.


Nugs: Well, technically I did. Read on.

We talked a little about work, and he seemed genuinely interested in my job. He had mentioned before that he too worked in film, so I believed that we had that in common, until he dropped the bomb that he was really a "musician first."

FUCKFUCKFUCKGODDAMMITFUCK. Why do they always find me? What is there, like, a convention or something? Is my picture on a wall, like a dartboard? Do they draw my name out of a guitar case, and whoever finds it gets me for the year?

Ginny: Well maybe he plays the recorder or something so he thinks he's a musician. At least this is what I'm picturing in my head. I played the recorder in 3rd grade so yea I'm a pretty bad ass musician.

Nugs: Technically I took a week's worth of piano lessons when I was eight. So, bonus?

We both ordered drinks (my second of the night; his fifth, apparently- Ginny, should we set up a Man Date with Liquid Lunch?), an app, and split a dessert. Our waiter was cool- he was fast, efficient, made great recommendations and was able to hold a witty conversation. Despite the fact that Champagne Supernova was a tool, some of the things he said were kind of funny, and I was able to talk to him. Also, during our meal, my friends were blowing up my phone, still trying to get me to come over, and I do have to admit that I was very tempted- especially when Champagne Supernova suggested that I eat more because I "needed more meat on me."

Dude. NEVER comment on a girl's weight. NEVER EVER EVER.

Tits: -10000 I mean I tell Nugs to eat a fucking pie all the time cause bitch is skinny, but when a guy does it, its just rude and obnoxious.

Nugs: That's because you and I are superclose and you can get away with that shit. Also sometimes you choose not to even validate my ridiculous Jew neuroses with an answer. But yeah, on a first date? Bitch, please.

Let's see how many posts we can use this pic in.
Also, not really a fan of pie. But red velvet cake? I'll take two, KTHNX.

Also Also- is anyone keeping track of how far into the negative numbers this guy has slipped at this point? Because I am really bad at math and at this point I just want to say -NO.

Then the bill came, and I politely extracted my Visa from its cave in my purse. I always do this, even though I am a firm believer in the policy that a guy always pays on the first date. It's not only a test to see how much longer the evening will progress, but also to show him that if the relationship will push forward, that yes, I am capable of providing for myself. It usually works in my favor, so what I did not expect is a) the cost of my simple vodka and pineapple ($14!!!) and b) for Champagne Supernova to enthusiastically agree ("you want to split? Cool!"). When he asked the waiter for separate checks, the look he got was great. It was obvious we were on a date, and the waiter stared at him like, "Seriously?"

Ginny: FAIL. Every guy should know that a girl is only doing this to be nice. We don't expect to pay on the first date. I don't expect a guy to pay for every date but the first is a must.

Tits: Please tell me you got the waiters number? Because I already like him better.

Nugs: DAMN, I wish I'd thought of that. You are so smart.

He also turned out to be an incredibly shitty tipper, shelling out 10% and insisting that this is the norm. I have done everything in the service industry (bar/waitstaff/hostess/etc) and some of my best friends are/were restaurant workers. This, to me, is the ultimate dealbreaker. You, sir, are an asshole.

Tits: I want his name, number, address and a headshot so that I can make sure to publicly humiliate him on the interwebz for being a horrible person.

Nugs: I think I actually might still have his business card somewhere. Check your inbox.

I decided to make him drop me off at the grocery store a block from my apartment- better to be safe than stalked. I told him I was meeting one of my girls who was in trouble (believable, since my phone had been ringing all night), and he replied, "Wow, that's really co-dependent." So he doesn't care about anybody else besides himself? Score! In reality I had excused myself to go to the bathroom at the bar and told my friends to pick me up at my place in half an hour.

Tits: There are just no words left for this guy. When did it become co-dependent to help a friend in trouble? No thats called being a good person and not a completely selfish, narcissistic, self-absorbed asshole who is too good for people.

Nugs: A few days later I was on Facebook with an old hookup, recounting the events that had gone down. This dude was no prize either- the most gentlemanly thing he ever did was move my hair out of the way- but even he was like, "Wow. What a dick."

And there you have it. The charming account of my terrible date. At least I can say that it's funny.

Tits: He really is the worst date ever. Props for not throwing him in front of a bus and calling it an accident, because I might have.

Ginny: Well you gave it a shot and that's all you can do right? This guy will be alone forever if this is how he acts. ENJOY!

Nugs: In case you guys are wondering, (you're not), I'm still wretchedly single.


Nugs on November 5, 2012 at 1:23 PM said...

I just realized I didn't ZING! myself when I said the percentage of people that smoke weed here is "high." I fail at life.

Anonymous said...

True: That guy was a dick.

Also true: When a waiter hits on my date, it sucks to have to tip him for the privilege of watching him do it.

Guy tip: Waiters often know before you do that your date isn't interested in you. They see her in their restaurant with other men on other nights. They also see her when you're not looking. When they hit on her, it's a red flag to get out fast.

Nugs on November 20, 2012 at 11:26 PM said...

Anonymous: I never knew that. That's a pretty interesting fact re: waiters. Now that I think about it, I think he probably was hitting on me and I totally should have gotten his number.

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