Guest Blogger - The funniest person in the world

Several of my friends in the States have given this dating site called okcupid a try.  It's free, and you definitely get what you pay for, but it's something fun to occupy the time.  My friend Lady J went on a date last night with a guy she met on the site.  Lady J and I lived together for 3.5 years after college.  We knew each other for like 2 years in college.  She is one of the most sarcastic, hysterical people I know.  When I got a text from her last night during the date, I knew there would be a story.  She sent the story through today.  I have to share it for you because I just got told to SHH in my office when reading it because it made me laugh so hard.  Here is her story:

Here is the breakdown:

 

I knew I was taking a risk because he admitted that he was a broke student, but I gave it a shot because I thought, you know - he is really funny and may be really great.  Now, I will give him this - he let me know, up front, that he was poor AND he was a funny person  online.  That's all he gets.  Here goes.

 

Sam asks me to go to Silver Spring, strike 2, but hindsight is 20/20 and a raging bitch.  So, I go to Takoma which is pretty much what I think Hell looks like on a sunny day, and I am standing there, texting him like where the fuck are you and then I turn around and see him.  He is wearing glasses, which he did not include in his profile pictures.  I don't mind glasses, but be honest about who you are.  So I am automatically disgusted and want to punch him in the face for being ugly and awkward.  He has a pot belly and is short.  He also makes weird movements with his face because he is awkward.  He has a laugh that, I truly believe, is what makes birds fly south for the winter, and he really dressed up for me by wearing a plaid flannel button up shirt which I'm sure he got as a Christmas gift in 1995.  His car is a piece of shit that sounded like it was about to either explode or quit that bitch.  He made several comments about how he was actually making the car "go" by using his feet like Fred Flinstone.  Then he informed me that he needed to get gas, but looked shocked when he asked if I wanted to stand outside with him while he pumped it and I said no, I'm all sorts of set.  He also apologized for the car smelling like cigarettes, because his "friends" smoke.  This comment will come full circle later.

 

We get to downtown Silver Spring and park.  He tells me he forgot that it was St. Patrick's Day, so the bar he wanted to take me to, which I later found out is more like a bar that would fit perfectly in the Miracle Mile Strip Mall in Monroeville, was packed.  He asked if I wanted to go take a look anyways and I said, no, because I did not want to be at a place where people would be giving me the side eyes for being with someone who looked like a budget Kurt Cobain impersonater.  So we go this this place called the Quarry House Tavern, which is a  hole in the wall and really does look like 1 of the 7 layers of Hell.  It's in a dingy basement and I couldn't help but look around to see if Stabler and Olivia were going to come out from the kitchen to tell everyone that we had to leave because this dungeon bar was an official crime scene.  Of course, they'd probably walk out to tell me I was on the "Dates from Hell, Bloopers Reel."

 

So, we get a table and I ask for the specials.  Everything Irish is $5, including Jameson and Guinness.  I order a Jameson and Coke and he orders a Guinness.  We chat and things are fine.  He tells me that his dream of becoming the next Paul Potts (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_Potts) died when he realized that he had terrible stage fright.  Um, come again?  He was a musical theater major in College.  I actually had to hold my eyes shut for a few minutes for fear that my eyeballs would literally roll out of my head. He then tried at one point to impress me by singing, in an opera voice, the words to Bon Jovi's Living on a Prayer which was playing in the background.  More like living on a fucking nightmare island, where you can never wake up so you can never leave.  He also asked me about my ex bf's.  I said, I date meatheads.  He tells me that he was once addicted to video games, and his friends used to play an NHL game.  I said, ha, I date meatheads.  He finishes his Guinness and because $5 is way too expensive, he asks for a PBR and drinks it out of the can sideways.  At this point, if throat chopping someone in public was an acceptable form of tellings someone to shut the fuck up I would have Jackie Chan'd his ass. 

 

So, I am texting the entire time and then feel bad about this, so I lie and say it's for work and also say that my friend was sick and I needed to go to the store for her.  I made it very elaborate, so he bought it and I now had an out to leave after my drink was finished.  He then asked me if I smoked.  Since I had already won a Golden Globe and an Emmy for my performance thus far, I kept going and said, no.  He said, OK, well I am really craving one, is it OK if I go outside and try to bum one from someone.  I should have slapped him in the face and ran out, but I wanted to save that for later, so I said, no, go ahead.  He asked if I wanted to come outside while he tried to beg for butts and I said, no I don't want to lose our table.  He then proceeded to try and ask the waitress, who, at this point, I think caught on to the fact that if I could have mastered the art of sponataneou combustion I would have gone for the gold, if she could watch or table.  I said, NO, go outside, I'm not going.  He went.  I texted Lauren, who had bbm'd me earlier and told her what was going down.  He came back and apologized for going out.  Lauren called me to try and get me out of the date again.  I swear, with the amount of "emergencies" my friends were having last night you'd think Sam would have Sherlock fucking Holmes'd that shit and realized what was up, but no.  So, he then tells me that I am beautiful and when I say, what?  He said, oh, nothing, no, you're beautiful.  I say, thanks.  He then pulls out a list of "talking points" that he picked up from the info on my profile and starts to ask me questions.  I want to kill myself.  He tells me about the times he has pissed the bed.  I want to kill myself and him.  He tells me that he is telling me too much, but that he is comfortable with me.  I want to blow up the motherfucking bar.

 

We get the check and I throw down my $5 and $2 for the tip.  He pulls out his cash.  I start to see the light.  I am so close to freedom I can taste it.  It tastes exactly like Yellow Tail's Cab Sauv and a Marlboro Light.  Delicious.

 

We're walking out and I see him veering towards me, repeatedly sticking his hand out towards me like I'm going to grab on to that shit.  Bitch, please.  I am looking at my phone and put my hands in my pockets.  We get to the parking garage and get in the elevator.  He looks over at me and says, I really want to, No, and I said, what and he leaned in to try and kiss me.  I put out my hand as if I were about to Hesiman that shit and said, No, I don't do that.  He said, ever?  I said, not on first dates.  Or ever with people who literally make my skin crawl.  We get in the car, he apologizes for trying to make out with me, I said, it's fine.  I have now stopped talking.  He asks if it is OK if he stops at 7-Eleven to get cigarettes.  I said, no.  I should have just gotten out of the car and sprinted while waving my middle finger and yelling FREEEEEEEEEDOM, but I didn't.  He came back and dropped me off.  He sped off. 

 

During or date he informed me that he was NOT in medical school, had not yet been accepted to medical school and had NOT EVEN taken the MCATS yet to see if he could get into medical school.  He was taking classes to get his post-bac shit because he was musical theater major.  Now, I get that you're broke because you're in school, but you are only taking classes PART TIME, you live with your Step-Mom because you had a falling out with your Mother (yes, he told me this as well), you should get a fucking job, or don't but don't go on an online dating site.  You are NOT datable. 

 

So, another one bites the dust.  Sad, but the entire time I kept thinking about how mad I was that I was with a fucking joker and not working out.  Sad has never looked so pathetic.