Ohhhh my goodness. I thought Scott was bad the other weekend, but that’s because I hadn’t met David yet. I made a bad choice and decided to simply hang out and watch football at his apartment. I know, I was almost asking for it, and I’m ever so thankful nothing happened to me. But after seeing him, I realized I could kick his a** if I needed to, which, incidentally, is what started off the “date” on such a bad note. In his pictures he came across as an all-American boy—athletic, lighter coloring, good natured, blah blah blah—everything I could hope for, right? He met me outside and after saying “it’s nice to meet you,” I spit out, “Oh, you’re skinny.” Oops! Such a major no-no, but I didn’t understand that until hours later. My comment obviously peeved him because guys don’t like being called skinny apparently, and I tried to explain my slip by saying he looked like he had lost weight from his pictures. He informed me that I was actually correct and he had lost weight recently. HA! I knew I was right. Regardless, I did apologize for my comment and tried to start fresh. David cozied himself on his recliner across the room from where I was sitting. I loved the distance between us; it was really conducive to creating a warm atmosphere. He worked for the government and did something related to studying the mind or why people are the way they are. I guess, since it was a Sunday and all, he thought he was still at work. For the next two hours, he chipped away at everything about me. Religion was a biggie for him. My profile explicitly states that I’m not religious, and the only person I try to fake this with is my grandmother. David went on and on about God—I’m not sure exactly what he said because I was watching the football game that was on TV. Wow, thank goodness for football, this is what, the third date that it’s provided me with entertainment?
We made it past religion and David had some other random jerk things to say, but he really got me fired up when he said that I use my looks to get what I want. Now, I try to take care of my appearance, but I am definitely not one to wear skimpy clothes, bat my eyelashes, or do whatever else with my looks to get what I want. Because his rantings weren’t offensive enough, he decided to make the proclamation that no guy will ever like me for me—he will be only interested in me because of my looks. I laughed. And after a few minutes of thinking of ways to impose physical harm on him, I decided to leave instead. I could’ve left way earlier, but I wanted David to feel like a dope because he cried about one comment I made, and I was able to withstand his judgments for two hours. Before I left, we stepped outside on his balcony. I was taking in the view when he pulled me in and kissed me. Uhhhhh, huh? I’m pretty sure he hated me about five minutes prior and now he’s kissing me? He took out the hammer and really nailed his coffin by making some, um, suggestive remarks, I guess we could call them. I laughed. Again. And walked out. Hopefully Scott and David will be the only jerks I have to meet.
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