Online Dating: Talk About Awkward

My last post was full of new lessons learned the hard way. They mostly came about because of the most horrendous date I've ever had in my life. Here we go with the story...

The beginning is brief. Met online. Messaged back and forth for a few days. Started texting. Texted for about a week or so until there was a time that fit both of our schedules. Fast forward to that fateful night. It’s a rainy, crappy Wednesday night, and I drive out to Lucky Strike in Novi for a “fun” date night. (Just for story purposes, I’m going to call this guy Busta, and that point will become obvious later on.)

Busta sends me a message saying that he’s having a hard time finding the place. I’m driving so I have to call him and try and talk him through directions. He says he’ll find it. I arrive and text him that I’m parking and about to enter the establishment. When I get in, I look around and can’t find him. I send a message “where are you?” and check my coat. At this time I also buy a Players Card (because my old one is residing in the ex’s wallet…). I get a text that says “should I meet you up front?” OMG. Nope, meet me by the dumpster; that’s my first choice. So I’m looking around and I finally hear, “Kristen?” and I turn around to find him. I gave him a quick hug (again, I’m referencing Point 4 here), and I asked him what he felt like doing. He shrugged and said he didn’t know. So I start walking around, taking him on a tour. He’s not saying much, but he’s staring at me. Insert the awkwardness. So I tell him that I’m really into trivia, and we sit down to play. As I sit down, he takes a seat next to me and tells me that I look good. I thank him for the compliment and we start trivia. No conversation. I try chatting with a few openers, but nothing really in response. Great. We walk around some more, and I MAKE him choose a game to play. After my prompting, we go over to the car-racing machine. This is the point where he unexpectedly goes in for a hug/touchy/kissy thing. It’s like he tried to envelop me and I managed to squirm out of that and just end with a half-hug. Busta looks rejected. I feel bad.

We move on and play a few more games, all at my prompting. He tried to play the basketball game (I don’t know, to impress me? If you’re not good at shooting hoops, here’s a hint: don’t use that as your pick-up move), missed every shot, and then he had to use the restroom. So I took this opportunity to text my sister and BFF about the awkwardness of the situation. As I’m finishing up the text, he came up behind me and “tickled” me. I put that in quotations, because what he really did was grab some of my back fat and jostle me. WHAT THE HECK!?!? Now I feel violated and don’t really want to play any more games, because apparently he’s getting frisky. He tells me that I smell nice, and I launch into some story about how I got enough products from Bath and Body Works to last me a year because I’m a thrifty shopper. Anything to steer the topic away.

I run out of points on my card, which I paid for on my own. Busta wants to keep playing, and I tell him that I have no points left. A few times I had to say this. He never offered to put more points on the card, or get one of his own. Then he asks me what I want to do next. Too bad I picked an establishment that mas multiple things to do, and is in walking distance of more (see last post and reference points 1 and 2). I really just want to go home at this point, but I’m feeling obligated because of how much time we spent texting. And though I’m not physically attracted to him, I thought I’d give him one last chance to have some personality win me over. Conversation about ANYTHING would have been good at this point, because I’m really the only one talking. I’m leaving multiple doors  and conversational pathways open for him, but he never follows through.

I’d ask him his favorite movie and he’d just give me the title and become silent. Wouldn’t ask me in return what MY favorite is, or explain his answer, or talk about anything movie-related. COME ON, GUY! I’m giving you an opening that’s so VAST you’d HAVE to have something to say. Or so one would think.

So I walk outside and say that there’s a movie theater right next door. This was magical to me because I wouldn’t have to push myself to come up with things to try and talk about and I could at least get some enjoyment out of the evening. So we go in and he picks out the ONE movie I will never see in my lifetime. I shoot him down and we go back outside. At this point it’s not raining, so I start walking around and making laps, just coming up with things to say. When he’s still not contributing I call him out on it and want to know if he’s shy, or nervous, or just a quiet person in general. He tells me he has lots of stuff to talk about, but he wants to sit down and talk. I told him I’m like a race-car driver making laps, and I’m OK with walking. He looks confused, and I say, “you know, like the Mario Andretti of speed-walking conversations?....Danica Patrick???” He kinda chuckled, but insists he wants to sit down. We go BACK into Lucky Strike (the coat check girl gave us the “Weren’t you JUST in here?” look. I gave her the “I can’t escape” look and she nodded) and sit down. He orders a beer and I have a water. Again, I push the conversation. Not much response.

I let my attention wander, catch the score of the Michigan basketball game, then I find he’s staring at me. Ohhhh, great. I keep giving him entries which should be no-brainers. “Oh, you work at a school, what kind of school? What do you do there? Do you like your job?“ these are all legitimate questions he could have asked me stemming from ONE sentence I gave him. But nothing. I ask him if he likes his job, and he says not really. So then I ask what he’d like to do, and he said “anything that makes me $20 an hour I’ll do”. So I try approaching this from another direction and ask if he could do anything in the world, what would it be. He said he’d want to do something in music. Alrighty, now we’re getting somewhere. Instead of elaborating, I have to push it. Again.

“Well, would you like to play music, write it, or produce?” Busta tells me that he wants to drop beats. Oh dear sweet mother of pearl. He goes on to tell me that he’s a lyricist. Now I’m flabbergasted and I have to ask, “….do you mean you’re a white rapper???” He confirmed this. More awkward silence. I go back to the job route and ask him if he’s had any past jobs he’d like to go back into since he doesn’t like his current one. Apparently his employment with Walmart, Meijer, and CVS he liked even less. He doesn’t want to go back to school, but wants to find something for more than $20 an hour doing as little as possible. You had me at “hello”. (PLEASE note that that last line was filled to the brim with sarcasm.)

More silence, and staring from his end. Then all of a sudden he is staring at something behind me. He looks questioningly, then breaks out into a huge grin, and gets up and leaves the table. Leaves me in the booth alone. I have enough time to text my sister and BFF, apply some lip gloss, and get uber annoyed by the time he gets back. He’s glowing, looks happier than he had been all night, and says to me, “Sorry, I just met a celebrity.” Is this dude for real? He then gets on his phone to text message everyone he knows (all the while NOT talking to me, or telling me who it was), call his brother, and then ask me how to access the WiFi so he can get Google to give him the correct spelling of this guy’s name. I don’t even know his name, but apparently he was from the rap group D12. I have no idea.

After 10 minutes of him pretty much ignoring me to tell everyone he knows of his celebrity score, he looks up and says, “Did you put on perfume?” I tell him that I just needed some lip gloss. Then he tells me that it makes him want to eat my lips. So I panic and start talking about how me and the BFF went shopping and she managed to get a ton of stuff with just gift cards, and I had to actually PAY for my loot - whatever I can think of that’s not of any “lip-eating” relevance. He then wants to know what we are going to do next. I tell him I have no idea what he’s going to do, but I was going home. He says he’ll walk me to my car, but I tell him that’s not necessary. He doesn’t say anything.

So we walk out and it’s pouring rain. He says, “Well, maybe I’ll only walk you halfway since I’m parked on the other side of the lot”. Thank GOD. So we get to the corner and it’s that awkward moment where I’m trying to remember where I parked my car, and while looking for it he’s obviously waiting to give me a hug. So I go to give him a little hug (POINT 4), and he goes and slides his arms INTO my jacket to get at me. Yes, you read that correctly, he jacket-hugged me. I flashed back to middle school where the adolescent guys did the same thing outside waiting for the bus to arrive. Ugh. He’s a little bit of a clinger, and I can tell he’s waiting to see if it’s OK to kiss me, so I release him as quick as possible and said, “Welp, nice to meet you, had a good time, bye” and he says “thanks” as I’m taking off to my car.

I never looked back, and couldn’t speed out of there fast enough.

Needless to say, I’ve learned a LOT about what I want. Listen, if I was willing to settle, I’d still be with the ex. I’m looking for fireworks, or at least something that’s intellectually stimulating.

I hope this brings at least a smile to your face, or a giggle to your day. Because this was really crappy, and the only way to get past it quickly is to laugh about it. Thankfully, I never received another message from Busta ever again. At least he took the hint.