The Dollar Date Dickhead

I titled this "Dollar Date" because, if I'm doing my math right, this guy got to go to an NFL game, put his car in paid parking, guzzle a load of over priced beer, enjoy the company of and actually TOUCH the lovely M.K. (who send us the story) for a total investment of $7. However since $6 was given back to him in the form of gas, that leaves this date costing just 4 shiny quarters!! Am I right? Oh and the "Dickhead" part of the title?...well read on...
Bullwinkle

Friday August 19, 2005
Fedex Field
Skins v Bengals

So this guy I met online--but not yet in person--asks
me out. He says he wants to go up to Fedex to see his
Bengals play in pre-season. And because the most
effective way to get me to say yes is to ask me to
attend a sporting event, I of course say yes. I'll
just say now, I will never make that mistake again.

Previous to his telling me he wanted to get scalped
tickets a friend of mine offered me his seats for $30
less than face value. So now that I have someone I can
use them with, I tell my friend I definitely want
them.

My date gets directions to my office and shows up in
his Vette--whoop-de-doo. He warns me that he had left
the top off his car the previous night and it had
rained...fun, let me tell you, I love peeling damp
jeans from my ass and legs. So we start heading up to
meet my friend--and the guy who made me laugh and who
was so clever online is now much less than funny, and
far less than clever--nerves maybe?? But he begins to
show his true colors.

We meet my buddy, and my date searches though his
pockets and wallet,and realizes he doesn't have enough
money and his ATM card isn't going to work--something
about a BIG check he just deposited being on hold for
a few days--so he can't draw any funds off of it.

So, no problem, I pay for the tickets ($100), stick
the envelope under the left strap of my bra for safe
keeping, and we head up to the game. We park at
Landover Metro and take the shuttle in. The whole time
he is complaining that he is on a public bus, and how
he felt dirty. (BTW I should mention that I am
car-less. And, yes he does know that I commute by bus
EVERYDAY) At the gate he pulls out $7 and asks me for
$3 more so HE can pay for the shuttle rides. I realize
now that this is all the cash he has on him. I get the
shuttle tickets from the attendant--slide them into
the envelope next to the game tickets and stow them
away as before.

We enter the stadium, I hit the ATM again, we find our
seats and I buy us a couple beers ($14). He is the
typical football fan and a bit obnoxious and is
cussing --which would be ok with me if we weren't
sitting 2 rows back from a family with a small child
in tow. So I ask him to tone it down as far as the
cussing went--for which I get chastised because he
thinks that if the Skins Fans who are seated all
around us had heard me, a woman, telling him how to
behave and he complied they would think less of him as
a man. Hmmm.

So, each quarter (not wanting to break my bank) I buy
us 1 beer each ($28). I am trying to make the best of
a bad situation--I chat with the other fans, and joke,
when he gets too obnoxious, about how "I am really not
with him" and "can someone give me a ride home to
Virginia?"

Meanwhile, there is ANOTHER self-important S.O.B
talking away too loudly about how much effing money he
makes and how effing much he effing knows about effing
sports and effing this and effing that. And I can see
everyone look his way and roll their eyes but not say
anything--my issue, again, is the small child in front
of us. So finally when he finishes his little sports
rant I turn to him and tell him to "watch [his] mouth,
have some respect for the families with small
children." And of course as I turn around
Self-Important S.O.B. is calling me an effing c*** to
which my date responds with some sort of antiquated
defense of my honor. (Now normally I appreciate a guy
who has my back--but this show of force is just
annoying at this point as he has already proven he is
not a gentleman.) But still it was effective--after
another 10 minutes Self-Important S.O.B. states loudly
if he doesn't pee he is "going to explode" gets up ad
walks up the steps. And he indeed must have
exploded--because we didn't see him after that.

But now my date is "riled up." And just 5 minutes
before the end of the 4th quarter he heads up to use
the facilities forgetting his ticket stub. So when he
attempts his return the usher stops him and won't let
him back to the seat alone, so the usher escorts him
down. The whole way down the steps my date is mouthing
off to the usher--who I should point out IS JUST DOING
HIS JOB!!!! When I show him the stub my date
beligerantly and loudly says "HA, see there you
minimum-wage-working-mutha-f***er, that was bull s***"
And of course the usher again doing his job politely
tells my date to sit down and shut up or he'll be
removed. To which my date responds in surprise "with 2
minutes left in the effing game???" and adds "I can
buy and sell you a million times over you
minimum-wage-mutha-f***er"

Well all I could think was Really?? Because you
can't buy a damned beer in this place! And I stood
up this time addressing the crowd in all seriousness
"I am not with him, can someone please give me a ride
back to Virginia??" Needless to say we were thrown
out--well HE was--but my bag was still in his car--so
I had to go too--and at the top of the steps--I run
into my old boss who sees me with this loser. UGH

We don't say much on the trip back to the car--I am
fuming--and so is he but for COMPLETELY different
reasons. We drive home--and he asks me if I have
anymore cash because he needs to put gas in his car.

WTF?!?!?!?

So I put $6 worth of gas in his car--just so I can get
myself home and cut my losses.

When we get to my house I mention that I have to pull
the trash cans in--he gets out and does it for me, he
walks me to my door--but he has the nerve to walk
across my threshold when I open the door. So I think
fine--I will sit here and chat for a minute. While we
are sitting on the couch he starts getting
handsy---and I am NOT subtle in removing his hands
from my body.

Sometime during our very superficial conversation I
get something in my eye--and I have to excuse myself
to flush it out--so I head upstairs. Does he wait
downstairs?? Nooooooooo, he follows me up and plops
down on my bed.

UNBELIEVABLE!

So when I am finished in the bathroom, my eye
completely red and puffy and teary, I tell him I am
not comfortable with him in my room, and in fact I am
not comfortable with him in my home. He gets this
dejected looking, puppy dog face on and starts down
the steps. I walk him to the door, and he says "Well,
I guess I won't be hearing from you again." To which,
I say nothing, but close the door, lock and chain it
and think "You guessed right"

So let's recap.
Tickets $ 100
Beer $ 42
Gas $ 6
shuttle $ 3
This complete waste of my time Priceless

And in case you hadn't heard the Skins lost to the
Bengals 17 to 24.

YOU MIGHT ASK:
Why in the hell would you keep yourself in such a
shitty situation and then continue to let some douche
take you home (get a cab), and then come into your
home and talk to him? Plus, why the hell would you
give him money?


MY REPLY WOULD BE THIS:

So, I should get a cab from Fedex Field to Vienna, VA?
Do you know how much that would have cost?? I already
dumped 150 bucks... Sure why not just put another
50-60 bucks on top of that??? Screw that! He can drive
my cute and patient ass home.

While I agree I could have gotten out of the
situation--I was there to see the game as much as I
was there to see the guy and by the way the seats were
phenomenal. So, while I can hold my own when I need
to, I am just as non-confrontational as the next
person.

Flint Westwood... or Ok, I've met Ugly, So Where's Good and Bad?

My sister and I still laugh about her date with "Flint Westwood." She had placed a personal ad to meet someone. She is a stunning girl, with a great figure and a terrific sense of humor, but wanted to try something different to meet her Mr. Right. Well, she got a call from a guy...nice chat...said he looked like Clint Eastwood (in Eastwood's younger, moustached days). So they agree to meet for a drink. She looks all over the bar, can't find him, because there's nobody who looks REMOTELY like Mr. Eastwood. But there IS a guy with an enormous, god-awful mustache, who looks easily 15 years older than he said he was. Sure enough, he's the blind date. They order some beers. He comments that her hair is not really blond (it was dishwater--I suppose he thought she'd be bleached or something). She comes back with "you didn't mention your hair was salt-and-pepper." He then tells her, "oh, it's not--it's probably Dog Hair." He then runs his hand threw his hair, and all the dog hair falls out onto his shoulders and the table. She about threw up. Then, he takes a sip of his beer, and gets foam all over his gynormous moustache. She's trying to be polite, so she points and says, "oh, you've got foam on your moustache." Rather than pick up a napkin, the guy pulls his lower lip up over his 'stache and loudly SLURPS the foam off of it! She stayed just long enough to drink half her beer so as not to appear too rude, then said she really needed to get going.

Who Doesn't Like A Little Head?.

In a moment of temporary insanity, I decided to join an online dating site. So this guy emails me, and boy, he was totally hot. Young, thick dirty-blond hair, buff...but that was a problem. He was young...like 10 years younger than me. Being a single mom, I'm particular about who I will date. It's not just me anymore, you know. I have to consider who it is I may potentially bring into my child's life. Anyway, he tells me that since he has a eight-year-old, he doesn't see the age difference being a problem. Okay, so we meet. Well, if he hadn't walked right up to me at the restaurant, I would not have recognized him. Yep, he was buff, all right, but his head was not in proportion to his body. It was TINY. The movie Beetlejuice came to mind, with the shrunken-head guys. His cheeks were sunken in. The thick dirty blond hair was actually thin, unkempt and sun-bleached white (I HATE that). No thick, kissable lips like in his picture; his mouth was a thin gash, and he had BRACES. I was still reelng from that shock, when, in the course of our conversation, he admitted that he'd lied about his age. He wasn't 27, he was my age. Anyway, I made it through lunch and mumbled something about possibly getting together over the weekend. Normally I'm really upfront about my feelings if I'm not interested, but I really was just speechless at the whole thing. Later, I emailed him (I know, lame) that I couldn't see him anymore because he had lied. So began his email campaign of totally dissing me, calling me every name in the book and insisting that he didn't lie to me, he just withheld the truth until we could meet in person. And even though I'd told him that I hadn't dated in a while, he kept saying I was trying to pin him as a liar just to cover the fact that I had "too many dates to handle." Whatever.

The Speed Date

I'm a single guy and, due to my job don't get to meet alot of eligible women in my age range, so I decided to give one of those "speed dating events" a try. It was held in one of those large, multi-room, mega bars. Now I should mention that I suffer from just a touch of night blindness and the lights were very dim, so I was lurching up and down a bit (couldn't see the stairs on the multi-level floor) trying to find which room held the event.There I stood , squinting and scratching my head, when I spied two women holding the same speed dating brochure that I had in my hand. Problem solved! They got up from the bar, so I followed. Up some stairs, down a hall, through an open door and...the two women turned, wide eyed with anger and fright...I was in the womens bathroom!
I made my apologies, got some directions and finally found the correct location. The room had been separated into about twenty separate stations (tables) at each table sat a woman and the guys, at two minute intervals, would make their way from station to station until we had all had twenty two minute "speed dates". At table #1, the woman was nice, but no sparks, so I headed to table #2. Sat down and felt a cold ,wet puddle, spreading over my butt...the idiot guy in front of me had spilled a full glass of Jack Daniels on the seat, not cleaned it up and not told anybody! This meant that I spent the next 36 minutes, explaining to 18 women why I had:
a) been seen in the Womens Bathroom
b) was observed lurching around the main room.
c) smelled strongly like whiskey.
d) had a large wet stain on my butt...sigh
Strangely, quite a few women contacted me later...lucky for me I guess things really are desperate out there!