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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