Three-hour date from hell
When it comes to bad dates, there are a few that come to mind. I’m a picky person when choosing someone I want to seriously date. My standards are high and wanting to seriously date someone is pretty rare for me.
But when it comes to dating and meeting people, I’m actually really open. This mostly is because I absolutely love meeting people. Dating around is a learning experience that I think is super important for everyone to do before settling down. With dating, you learn so much about yourself, other people, communication skills, standards, and overall, what your likes and dislikes are.
Every single date I’ve been on, both the good and the bad, has taught me something about myself and others. The best part is that I try to take what I learn each time to my next date, making me (hopefully) a better person to date.
I can confidently say that I am very different and more knowledgable about myself and what I want at this exact moment than I was a year ago, six months ago and even a month ago.
Whenever a friend tells me they’re considering going on dates and dating around, my response is always YES BITCH DO IT, because I really do think it’s an important part of growing and becoming a better person for your future partner.
So if you’re reading this and looking for a sign that it’s time to get (back) out there and meet people, this is your sign. Finish this post and go find yourself a date to go on next week. And then tell me about it because I love stories.
Anyway, back to bad dates, because that’s what you’re really here for, right?
There’s one date I reminisce on every once in a while, and the lesson it taught me was invaluable.
Referring back to my 5 tips for every first date, this date taught me the UTTER IMPORTANCE of having an exit strategy.
Here’s how it went down:
After dating a few guys my age, I felt like I wanted to try dating older guys and see how I liked it. I matched with a guy five years older than me.
I’m going to call him the engineer.
He was an engineer.
It’s truly groundbreaking how creative I am.
He was the definition of handsome. Not even hot. Handsome.
He had this grown-ass man look to him that made me thrilled to grab a drink with him. I could already tell the conversation and experience would be different from the 24-year-olds I was previously going on dates with.
I picked a location for us, and specifically told him that we could meet for a drink. This is important for later.
We agreed to meet at 8.
I good time for a drink.
Again, this is important.
Maybe I’ll put the words “a drink” in bold every time I write it here to further emphasize my point later.
He arrived early and texted me while I looked for parking.
He told me it was an hour long wait for a table and that he was going to grab a spot at the bar while we waited.
I was a little confused. I went back to our messages to make sure I had told him we were meeting for just a drink, and not dinner.
I texted him back saying something along the lines of, “Wow, an hour wait is a while. Luckily we’re just grabbing a drink, so we won’t need a table.”
I was sure I had made my point clear that we were just meeting for a drink, and walked over to the bar.
I find him quickly and he gets up to say hello. He was even more beautiful in person. I internally high-fived myself.
I sit down and he pulls out the pager from the restaurant. I couldn’t even hide my face when he said, “So it’s an hour wait, but I figured we could talk while we wait for our table.”
In my head I was thinking ‘Whyyyyyyyyyyyy are you still trying to get a table.”
Back in these dating days, I liked my dates to be pretty short, enough for a few drinks and good conversation, unless we were really, really hitting it off. And the thought of sitting through an hour wait to THEN sit at a table to then do who knows what for who knows how long, sounded like slow torture.
I asked him if he was planning on getting dinner, and he said that we were going to get dinner.
Again, back in these days, I didn’t really know how to tell someone no or that I didn’t really want to do that, or that I had just finished eating a hefty dinner at home, which is why I had planned to only get a drink with him.
And it honestly bothered me how he went about this. I’m not complaining that he wanted to take me out for dinner at all. What bothered me is that he didn’t ask me what I wanted ,and even after my texts making it (what I thought) clear as fuck that we were just going out for a fucking drink, he still was going to just do what he wanted.
So dumb me didn’t say anything and I ordered a drink to kick off this hour-long wait for a table to then eat my second dinner.
I brushed off how annoyed the whole thing made me, and I tried to just have a good time and appreciate him wanting to take me to dinner anyway.
We started talking about life and the engineer talked about his work….as an engineer.
It wasn’t the most exciting conversation, but I listened and asked questions.
The conversation about engineering was fine…for the first 5-10 minutes.
Until it kept going.
He wouldn’t stop.
It got to the point that the only reason the engineer stopped talking about his work…as an engineer was when the pager went off, saying our table was ready.
That literally means we talked about engineering for like 45 minutes straight.
I felt my heart literally drop when I realized that it had been an hour and I’d still have to sit through a dinner with him when I was bored out of my mind and definitely not hungry.
We order our food and he finally asked me something about my work. I mentioned a few sentences that lead him to say something like, “That’s exactly how it is in my office too! At work I,……”
*Cue massive eye roll and a wave of regret for even being at this dinner when ALL I WANTED WAS A DRINK*
Our food arrived and I was able to finish it pretty quickly because he kept talking and literally didn’t even notice that I hadn’t spoken at all, as he went on and on about engineering.
I looked at his plate after being at this table for an hour (making our current date time two hours), and noticed he wasn’t even halfway done with his sandwich, let alone his sides.
I excused myself to the restroom and called my sister.
I literally told her to tell me about her day, so that I could waste as much possible time in the bathroom while he ate his food. I figured if I wasted enough time, he would have to finish majority of his meal, which meant the date would be that much closer to ending.
I was literally willing to make him think I was dying in the restroom than sit at the table and listen to him talk for any longer.
Let that sink in for a bit.
I come back out a solid 10 minutes later and he was finishing one of his last bites.
I felt like the smartest human being at that moment.
Our waiter asked if we wanted dessert, and I’ve never said no to desserts so quickly in my life.
The date was ending.
But not really actually because he just kept talking.
We were nearing about two and a half hours together when he finally started saying his closing remarks.
I knew it was bad when he told me how much fun he had with me.
He told me, “I feel like we really connected, and I really loved talking to you. I hope we can continue seeing each other and go on more dates.”
I awkwardly laughed and didn’t really say a word. Something I had been doing for the last two hours.
He asked where I parked while we started walking out. I told him it was right across the street. He said he’d walk me to my car, and I insisted he didn’t need to. That didn’t change anything as he grabbed my hand and walked me to my car.
He gives me a hug and thanks me again.
I thanked him for dinner and he wrapped his arms around my waist.
He kissed me before I could even think of a way to stop him.
I quickly get in my car and drove home, clocking out of the date three hours after it started.
I was exhausted. The amount of things I could’ve done in this time was upsetting.
He reached out to me after, and I ended up telling him I wasn’t interested a little while after.
All I wanted was a drink with an older guy to see how I’d like it, and I ended up with a three-hour monologue on engineering.
The Girl with a Heart on Her Middle Finger