High School Called: They Want You Back

Go Aviators

I had my first date from my nemesis, Match.com. It was as I expected: awful.

I have been trying to keep an open mind and not be as picky in the past. Well, that mentality didn't work out so well this go round.

So, I met this douchebag out for drinks. I tell you, drinks are the way to go. Dinner is way too much for a first date. That is too much of a commitment for the first encounter. Drinks are easy because if you don't like the person, you peace out after 1 drink. So, I sat down at the bar and ordered my Sam Adam's Oktoberfest. A guy came up to me and said, "Denise?" I was immediately disappointed. It really looked like he was wearing a toupee. Lesson number 1: never trust anyone that wears a hat in all their pictures. Another thing that annoys the hell out me is that people lie. They look NOTHING like their picture. Nothing. If your picture is more than 3 years old, you do not look like that anymore - let it go.

He was 38 and from Ohio. I said yes because 1) he was from Ohio and 2) well, if he is 38 there is a possibility of a sugar daddy.

Here are some sample questions from the date (no joke):
"What was your high school mascot?"
"What schools were in your high school conference". Note: I could only name Sidney, Piqua, Troy and West Carrollton. I completely missed Northmont, our arch rival, as well as other schools - Trotwood & Greenville.
"Were you a cheerleader in High School"
"What sports did you play in High School"

Now, don't get me wrong. I liked High School and all but I have done some pretty awesome things since graduating TEN YEARS AGO, ie. went to college, travelled the world, lived in Chicago & New York, etc. I don't think to ask people about their high school experience on the first date. In fact, it's REALLY creepy. Super creepy. He asked me if I was hungry and I said no, even though I was kind of starving because I had a gross lean cuisine beforehand. I ordered 1 more beer to be nice. He threw back at least 4 or 5 gin & tonics.

Now, I am the least graceful person with heels. I have a love/hate relationship with them. They look pretty but they KILL my feet. As we were leaving the bar, I guess he could sense I was having trouble and said I could "hold his arm for balance". I politely declined because I would rather fall on my face than touch him. We parted ways on the walk home because I did not want him to know where I lived. I do have some street smarts.

Needless to say, I will not be seeing him again. Ever.