Date #2 was just plain ridiculous. We met up on the mainland for lunch, his idea. He was new to the Cape and looking to meet new people.... I figured he'd be interesting. He and I had both lived in multiple locations that were eerily similar. At one point we discovered that we lived only two blocks away from each other in Chicago... in TWO different locations (Roscoe Village & Rogers Park).
Silly me thought this might bode well for us. Thinking we had some things in common that not a lot of others I had met had. We even liked a lot of the same music, the same books, and he listed two of my all time favorite movies as his top two ("Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead" & "The Big Chill")... alas, that is where the similarities ended. Let me backtrack for a moment here and say that I am VERY upfront about my height. I am also quite open about not being interested in someone significantly shorter than I am. I realize that on line most guys tend to add an inch or two to their height. Basically a 5'8 guy will say he's 5'10, a 5'9 guy will say he's 5'11, a 5'10 guy will say he's 6'....this goes on and on (always adding an inch or two) till they are about 6'1.
THIS guy said he was 6'3. Let me assure all of you, he was not 6'3. He was not even 5'8 to be honest. I could see clear over his head. Awkwaaaard.
Upon meeting in person:
Him: So, I guess you're wondering why I lied a little about my height?
Me: A little?
Him: You just seemed so cool and pretty, I really wanted the chance to meet you in person.
Me: I'm almost flattered, but I really don't appreciate being lied to.
Him: You wouldn't have gone on this date with me if you knew how tall I was.
Me: Well, to be fair, I probably wouldn't have if it were based on stats alone, but I thought you were kinda great, THAT supersedes the height thing every time.
Him: Yeah? (*smiles*) So where would you like to go for lunch?
(*ferry boat behind me is 2 minutes from leaving to go back to the island*)
Me: My place.
Him: Huh?
Me: Lying to me tops the list of why I wouldn't go on a date with you. Well done. You made it to the top.
...and I spun on my heels (not high heels, just my actual heels since I was in flat shoes) and walked back to the ferry boat, boarded it, and pulled the newspaper I had been reading on the way over back out of my purse, took a pen out... and before we docked on the Vineyard I had finished the crossword puzzle.
Three hours later I got a text message from him that just said "I'm sorry."
All I could think was "yeah, me too."
An hour or so after that I got a message from someone else. Not a text message, an actual message on the on line dating site I was currently tryin' out.
The guy was witty. He made some random obscure references that were right up my alley, and lo and behold, homeboy was 6'5. Well, that's what he claimed his height was at least.
I know I seem to say it a lot, and height is NOT the most important thing to me, but lying about it is lame, and I am so sick of feeling like "the dude" on multiple occasions. Unless you've experienced this yourself, it's very hard to fully understand. I do know some women that are taller, even much taller, than their significant others... and they are not only cool with it, they like it. I will, however, also say that these men they are dating/married to are so beyond bad ass it's kinda retarded. Not to say that if you're really tall it's okay to be a total dumb ass with no personality, intelligence or sense of humor... but I'll be honest, it sure as shit doesn't hurt.
I replied to the message, we wrote back and forth for a few days & exchanged cell phone #'s. When we spoke on the phone I found myself exceptionally grateful that a)he didn't talk like Mike Tyson, & b) he wasn't British. (I would have been more than okay with him being Scottish though, that accent is what narrates my dreams)
He offered to drive down to where the ferry boat docks on the mainland
(*insert ominous music here*)
I said yes.
I bought my return ticket in advance again this time, and brought a book. Worst case scenario? I would have 2 1/2 hours of freedom to read if this turned out to be a similar situation to the last brief (er.. uh... short?) date. I love to read, so win/win eh?
He greeted me at the end of the ramp where passengers disembark, and he had not lied about his height. (THANK YOU!) We smiled, and had that 5 second moment of "do we shake hands? Do we hug? Do we kiss a cheek?"... all playing out via thought bubbles. We hugged briefly, and started to walk towards town.
It was an oddly breezy/chilly day and he mentioned that his car was close by if I wanted his jacket he left in the front seat. (*Mental note: gold star for chivalry, dude!) He then asked if there was anywhere in particular that I might like to go... I just shrugged and said "I rarely eat around here, and only know of one place that I am certain has good food", so we went there.
After ordering and sitting down to wait for our food he asked me if there was "anywhere [I'd] like to go?" Again I told him that I rarely spent much time in this part of the Cape. It was just a place where I would wait in/with my car to catch a ferry boat home.
Then he asks me "what kind of fun things are there to do?"
AGAIN I remind him that I live on the island and his guess would be as good as mine, unless he wanted to go to Walmart and source out some good deals on toiletries & cleaning supplies.
"Would you like to go there?" he asked me.
"To Walmart?!"
"Yeah, sure, why not?"
"Seriously?"
"I know it's not a typical "date thing" to do, but... it could be fun"
"Walmart?"
"Yeah"
"Walmart?"
*he starts to laugh*
"YES, WALMART!"
*I can't help myself and start to giggle*
"No, but I'd be really happy to hit a CVS" I told him.
After we finished our meals... we went to CVS. He was totally cute, more than a little charming (but not in a smarmy "I'm trying to get something out of you" way), and I was genuinely enjoying my time with him.
We wandered up and down the aisles, poking fun at the ridiculous items for sale... I had started a mini pile of toiletries in my hands that I knew I couldn't buy back home, and especially at the awesome prices I could get them at CVS. He tried to make fun of me by asking if I'd ever wear the bright orange nail polish I had in my hands...
"You do realize you're asking someone with fuchsia hair if she'd wear orange nail polish, right?"
"You're right, want me to go grab you some of the blue too?" he smiled. A very sweet smile.
Conversation was easy with this guy, he was smart, he was funny, he had impecible comedic timing. He knew the most random obscure things... which totally jives with my plethoric knowledge of random & useless facts. (Did you know the name of the street The Brady Bunch lived on was Clinton Ave? Did you know that cat pee glows under black light? Well, now you do.) I loved that he and I were so similar in that respect. It was just funny. The hour or so spent wandering around CVS laughing till we had tears in our eyes was so much fun... till we hit the periodicals section.
I picked up a copy of one of the many home decor type magazines and flipped through quickly as he stood there with a not so pleasant look on his face.
"What's the matter?" I asked him
"This!.. What's with this shit?" he asked... to no one & everyone.... as he points to a row of magazines.
"What do you mean?" ... I really had no idea what he was talking about.
"Why are all these black magazines here? Why are there so many black people on the covers of these?" he said.
I stood there waiting for the punchline to a shitty joke..... and it never came.
"Are you serious?" I whispered
"Yes, yes I am... what's with this shit? Why are they everywhere?!"
I looked at the items in my hands, decided that there really wasn't time to take a pen & paper out of my purse and write an apology to whichever CVS employee would find the moisturizer, lip gloss, orange nail polish, and purse sized bottle of hairspray saying:
"I thought the last boat was at 8pm or something like that?"
"Yeah, stupid me, I read the schedule wrong, I forgot they were changing things this week... best get a move on. I can come back for the stuff another time."
"Oh, okay. Bummer."
"Yeah"
"Wanna go out again next weekend?" he asked me, walking to the front door of CVS.
It felt like forever as the multitude of answers played out in my head... all of them ending with "no way Jose!"... though, his name was obviously not "Jose"... so even that comment could have sparked controversy....
As we got into his car I chose "Next weekend? Oh! I can't! I'm scheduled to cover a shift for someone at work, sucks, eh?"
"Yeah, I had a good time with you, you're awesome."
So awesome that I will go on a date with a fucking racist... I thought to myself.
"Thank you, that's very kind of you to say" I replied and willed my cell phone to ring/beep/make any sort of noise so that I could be momentarily distracted as we drove back to the ferry.... by some miracle, thanks to a random facebook notification, it made the telltale sound of something coming through on my phone.
He laughed at the fact that it was a sound bite of "R2D2"... I just smiled and said "excuse me for a moment, I need to check this and make sure it's not work related." Fact is it was just a friend commenting on a picture I was tagged in.... but HE didn't need to know that.
We got back to the boat in record time, and when he asked me where he should park so he could wait with me I told him "Oh don't be silly, if you leave now you'll avoid the traffic. I'll be fine, the boat will be here any minute."
He gave me a strange look, and as I got out of the car he called out to me by name and said
"Did I do something wrong?"
I looked at him and then turned my head to see the ferry boat pulling into the dock. I knew I wouldn't be able to get on it till the cars and passengers were unloaded first... and I must admit, I was kinda freaked out by the idea of what this guy might say or do if I told him the truth... then I noticed two people waiting to get on the next ferry boat. Two fairly large & heavily tattooed gentlemen that I had met and talked to at length with the weekend before at my job managing the motorcycle shop. They noticed me too. (At 5'11, with fuchsia hair, I'm kinda hard to miss) and waved back... I turned back to "my date," feeling a strange sense of security, and said:
"Yeah... yes you did. Dude, you're a freakin' racist. I want no part of that. Please lose my number." I turned and walked towards the men on their motorcycles with a smile on my face, no idea what Roger Racist had to say, and no inclination to care either.
