Moments ago, I just dropped of my guest of honor that I’ve been killing myself entertaining the last FIVE FUCKING DAYS. I cannot tell you how excited I was to wake up this morning and get his ass to the airport…it was better than Christmas. I think I mentioned it, but I’m not sure, that a guy I met on a boat trip earlier this summer was traveling the five states away to spend a few days with me.
At first, I was really excited. Then I met Matt, and we went on our two amazing dates, and then I was wondering if me and this guy…I’ll call him Townie since he is from a small town and clearly very small-minded…anyway, I was wondering if we were going to get along. We had been texting and talking on the phone for the few months since the boat trip, but I was slowly starting to recall things he did that I didn’t like—flirting with me by making fun of me, asking me to kiss him before getting angry that I pulled away.
But I told myself I was going to try and have a fun time with him. I planned lots of fun activities for us—tour of a local brewery, dinner with my friends, trips to several bars, eating local food, private tour of local football stadium, etc. Did I get a thank you? Nope. Nothing. Not even a, wow this is cool.
Some of the comments I did get were:
*That tour guide wasn’t very good*I didn’t like that movie*Your shampoo smells weird, like mint*Are we actually going to stores in the mall?*What’s Williams-Sanoma?*It’s funny they card us here*You and your friends talk alot of shit about people who are 30, I’m 31*This pasta salad is different*
I don’t want my ass kissed. But when I arrange a PRIVATE TOUR of a football stadium, I expect a thank-you. We got to see the locker room, the tunnel where the players run out before a game, and we walked onto the turf. Yeah, our tour guide sucked because SHE WASN’T A TOUR GUIDE. I called in a favor because I know the owner, thanks. So what did Townie say to that? “So how did you hook it up, then, you Googled it?”
I FUCKING WALKED INTO HIS OFFICE AND ASKED FOR A PERSONAL FAVOR.
Really? Afterward, I took him to this little bistro by my place. He said, “how do you know of all these places to go? People just tell you about them?”
Me: I’ve lived here for 7 years. I work for the biggest company in the city. I am a journalist. I meet people. I go places.
Honestly, I felt like I was talking to an old friend that hadn’t grown at all, when I had. I understand he grew up in a small town and has lived there his whole life, but I couldn’t believe he wasn’t open to try new things. His entire visit I was sending SOS text-messages to my friend Nicole and ShyGuy, who confirmed to me that the guy was a douche, after I told him this little ditty:
Townie’s first night in, we were out with my friends drinking and he kept wanting to kiss me. I am not a fan of PDA, so I backed off. He said, “really?” I’m like, not here. We get back to my place and I give him a kiss…to which he says, “Seriously, you have to stop with these half-ass kisses.”
Okay faggot ass mother fucker, I’m stopping with the kisses all-together. And I did. And he slept on my couch for the remainder of the trip. When his last night in town was upon me, I was perky, knowing I just needed to entertain him one more night and then I would be FREE AT LAST, FREE AT LAST.
So we went to a Mexican place for food and margaritas, then across the street for a few beers. Afterward, I realized he hadn’t even seen downtown yet, so I drove us downtown where I took him to the roof of a building to see the river and the city. I should have told him to jump, because what happened next is ridiculous.
We walked around the corner to a fun little beach bar…it was dead because it was a Tuesday night. So there is a girl sitting by herself at one end, a guy by himself at the other, and the bartender standing in the middle. We take our seats in the middle, order a few drinks, and the guy to my left says he just got back from Iraq that morning and he had to stay in town for a few weeks before he could go back to his hometown. Honestly, I’m pretty cheesy about our troops and people who are out there fighting for us, so I told him thank you for his service and offered to by him a shot.
He let me, and then asked if he could show us some pictures. He scooted over to us and was flipping through some on his phone…when things got interesting.
Townie: how long have you been in the service?
Soldier: 18 years, since I was old enough to enlist.
Townie: wow, what made you decide to enlist?
Soldier: I grew up in a small town where you either enlist…or you get stuck with the bad crowd doing meth.
Townie: really? Because I grew up in a small town and just went to work after high school and I’m not addicted to meth.
Soldier: I have a degree from UC Berkelee, buddy. It opened doors for me, it’s just what I wanted to do.
Townie: (obviously feeling less like a man) I mean I have been working since I was 12 years old.
Soldier: Umm how did you do that? Were you working in some Korean sweat shop?
Townie: No, like doing dishes for my parents.
Soldier: You’re a douche.
Townie: Fuck you.
Soldier: Well I really don’t want to do this in front of your girl, so let’s step outside.
Townie: (says to me) What should I do?
WHAT IN THE FUCKING FUCK FUCK???!!!!?????!!$$ First of all, I am not the one that got you into this stupid mess. YOU, Townie, are the one comparing household chores to bombs in Iraq, not me. Really, I wanted him to step outside and get his ass kicked, so I could leave him on the street and spend my night in peace. But I simply said, I dunno.
Townie: I’m not going to fight you.
Soldier: It’s fine if you do, let’s just take it outside.
It went on from there and fizzled out. I finished my beer, while Townie sat there and got pissed at me for not saving him. When we drove home, he didn’t say a word to me, and when we got to my place he told me he thought I was never going to leave. Well excuse me, asshole, but you’re a grown ass man and shouldn’t leave it up to me to take care of your problems.
The highlight of this 5-day long date was going to the pool to watch a volleyball match and drink heavily. When a player was down, they asked a girl (wearing a captain’s hat and swim trunks) if she would fill in. Her response?
“Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I’m good at sports.”
Cheers to that, Lezzie.
This goes down in history as the worst second date…EVER.