Not So Fly Guy

I showed up to  a cozy Williamsburg cafe for a date after I reluctantly agreed to meet Garett, a self-proclaimed ‘serial’ entrepreneur who I knew was probably going to be a total douche from the start, but it was Friday night and  I pathetically had nothing else on the agenda.

I was the first at the scene, so I ordered a glass of Petite Sirah and surrendered my American Express to the bartender to open up a tab.

Garett arrived and immediately expressed his remorse for his unpunctuality.

‘So sorry I was late, I had to fly out to Pennsylvania because one of my rental properties out there had a flood and I had to do some damage control. I jumped on my plane right after and got here as quickly as I could.’

Your plane? You have a plane?

Asking about his plane was a huge mistake that I immediately regretted. He pompously whipped out his cell phone and began showing me his beloved propeller plane as if it was a new born baby girl. This went on for roughly 25 minutes.

He continued on about all the businesses he had started and his elaborate plan to retire at age 40. He ordered several double shots of tequila on the rocks as I just finished my first glass of wine.

We then established that we both lived in East Williamsburg. I finally got a word in and said that I lived in a lovely one bedroom and told him the street.

‘Oh, I guess we are neighbors then! My brother and I live in the building 2 blocks over by the same management company! It’s a bit tight right now, we are both living in a one bedroom because we are putting all of our money back into our businesses.’

‘….but you own a plane?’

‘Yeah, the plane is my baby. I would rather share 600 square feet with my brother than give up my plane.’

By his third double tequila and only my second glass of wine, his speech was slurring and determined it was time to call it a night.

The bartender came over and asked if we would like to put our drinks on the card he was given to which Garett eagerly replied, ‘Yeah that works!’

I get my bill and the total comes to $127.62.

‘Jesus Christ, what were you drinking? Crystal?’

‘Oh, yeah. Sorry, I only drink top shelf. Didn’t realize I drank so much though! How about I get you next time?’

‘No, Garrett. I had 2 glasses of wine that were $12 each. How about you man up and Venmo me $100 right now.’

He proceeded to offer up the excuse that he didn’t have Venmo, so I suggested we run to the ATM next door.

‘I don’t keep that kind of money in my account.’

‘Garett, you don’t have $100 in your account? You just spent an hour telling me about the plane you own and how you are retiring in 5 years.’

At this point it was a lost caused. I kissed my $127 goodbye and kicked Garett to the curb. He was never to be heard from again.

 

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Roses Are Red, I Wish I Were Dead

Initially I wasn’t very attracted to Kenny, but being that I was on the rebound from a recent breakup and it was also my New Year’s resolution to cease my shallow tendencies when it came to selecting bachelors in hopes of better luck, I opted to meet him for a drink.

I entered the well-lit cocktail lounge and the first thing that caught my eye was the conspicuous bouquet of red roses that were awkwardly placed on the bar. To my horror, my date was sitting directly adjacent to them.

Those can’t be for me. No way.

Now, this was not just a small floral arrangement that you pick up at the bodega on the corner. This bouquet must have contained 30 roses at the very least. I can’t even figure out how he managed to carry them down the street without assistance from a crane.

As he greeted me he beamed with pride. “These are for you!”

Don’t get me wrong, the gesture was very thoughtful and didn’t go unappreciated, but right before I took a seat he told me that we would have to go somewhere else because the bar was about to close for a private event.

We got up to leave the bar and he left me to lug this gargantuan tree of roses down the 7th avenue by myself as he leisurely strolled next to me. When we got to the next establishment I received plenty of inquisitive stares as I struggled to find a place to set my colossal vase.

“So what do you think of the flowers? I bet no guy has ever done that for you before.”

“They are nice. That was very sweet.”

“This whole thing cost me like $80 so I’m glad you like them! I only do this for girls that I really want to impress.”

“Oh, glad to hear I’m so special.”

“The last girl didn’t appreciate it so much though. She though it was a bit creepy and left without them. She was kind of a bitch about it.”

I finished up the second round of my drink and made my way to a taxi. Thank God for the flowers at that point though because they were so big it blocked his face from trying to kiss me goodnight.

 

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Regurgi-date

After going back and forth with Josh on Tinder attempting to find a time mutually beneficial for both of us, we agreed to meet for an afternoon cocktail in NoLiTa at 5 PM on a Sunday.

Naturally I show up at 5:08 because being the old fashioned young  lady that I am, I prefer to make an entrance and arrive subsequently when on a date.  Eight minutes is fashionably late, but not so much that is is being inconsiderate of someone’s time.

To my dismay, I arrived at the latin-fusion taqueria to find out I was the first on the scene.  I talked myself into sympathizing with his tardiness because I know how terribly inconsistent the subways can be on the weekends,  so I ordered myself a pomegranate margarita and attempted to remain patient.

He texted me at 5:13 and informed me that brunch with his friends ran late and he would be arriving shortly.

I would have preferred he used the subway delay excuse but I suppose I appreciated his honesty.

When he finally made his appearance he was loud and boisterous to the point that he commanded the attention of every patron in the bar. He rudely shouted at the bartender to ‘fetch’ him a Dos Equis.

Clearly, the guy was heavily intoxicated.

“So, you were at brunch you said? I don’t suppose it was bottomless brunch, was it?”

“Oh yeah, it was. I’ve been drinking since 1. I’m good though. I’m ready to keep drinking!”

He proceeded to consume 2 beers within 5 minutes and was becoming even more obviously inebriated so much that the bartender began to notice and requested that he exit the bar because he could not in good conscience serve him anymore drinks.

Suddenly he got extremely belligerent and started demanding that he be served another drink.

Humiliated, I tried to coerce him into leaving peacefully. As I grabbed his arm to lead him to the exit he turned around, looked me straight in eyes…

And vomited.  All over my feet.

I screamed and ran into the bathroom to rid myself of his regurgitated eggs Benedict and mimosas and when I emerged again he was nowhere to be found.

I never heard from Josh again, and it is probably for the best, because I would most likely punch him.

 

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Family Feud

I met Alex on PlentyOfFish and really couldn’t complain about my selection. He checked all my boxes. He was a gentleman, had a good job, no kids and just seemed to all around to have his shit together. Naturally, I was elated to meet him for dinner the following Thursday.

For our second date, another lovely evening commenced as we discussed our friends, work and places we have traveled to over a cheese and charcuterie plate accompanied by some craft cocktails.

As we ended the date with a kiss in front of the 2 train, he asked me if I would be interested in going to the cinema that Saturday. I had to reluctantly decline because my mother just so happened to be coming into the city from Texas for a girl’s shopping weekend.

On a side note, my Southern Baptist family who are all born and raised in the Lone Star State are extremely conservative, needless to say. So unless I am serious about a guy being my potential husband, there is really no sense in introducing someone to my mother, let alone a guy I have spent less than 6 hours total with.

Awesome. I would love to meet your mom”

“Oh, well, I would love for you to meet her, but it’s just going to be a girls weekend. It will be quick though. We can get together Monday night if you’d like.”

HINT: NO I DO NOT WANT YOU COMING OUT WITH MY MOM AND I.

“So, you don’t want me to meet your mom then?”

“Honestly, it’s a bit soon for you to meet my mom. I think this weekend is just going to be her and I this weekend.”

“Fair enough. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

The minute I stepped off the subway I receive this sweet message from him:

 

IMG_3753

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