About three weeks ago I met up with the most incredibly nice guy. We had chatted over email briefly. I had my reservations, we had nothing in common except weight training, email was stunted, and I was only remotely interested in his basic profile. But he persisted. And I like that. We talked over the phone and he had a great voice.
We met for drinks and he was.......small. Short mostly. And again the conversation was not free flowing. I will say he was one of the nicest guys I've met. He off
ered to walk me to my car and asked to see me again. I always try to do two dates (unless the date is an absolute disaster or the guy is amazingly crazy), everyone is nervous on first meetings. Including me. So I said yes.
It took 2 weeks to get to our second date and the convos between were not great (1st strike). I still felt like we had nothing in common and I also felt like he thought there was more between us than there was. He told me he told his friends about me and was talking about me to his brother. At that point I felt the need to point out that we had only had one date and it was a bit premature to go telling people about me. He didn't take that well.
Finally, we met up for our second date and he was 30min late!! I probably would have left but I had the best blueberry cider I had ever tasted! During the evening I found out that he had made plans for later with his friends, which i could join if I wanted. Uh, no.
There were two kickers that finally decided me on his fate. He brought up the talk about him talkign to his brother about me and that he felt I was angry over nothing. I replied that I wasn't angry about it but felt he should know where he stood and that it possibly came across wrong because of the bourbon. Mind you I wasn't drunk, just walls a little lowered. His reply was, "Remind me never to let you have bourbon."
LET ?! LET?! No one LETS me do anything. I just do it. 2nd strike, Dude.
When we were done with our drinks and it was time to leave I stood up and started for the door. At this point he's only seen me sitting. I stand up and I am a whole head taller. I wore flats for the first date. I wore heels for this date. He looked up at me and said, "You can't wear those again." Strike three.
Nobody tells me what to do, except my mother and father. And even then there is some strong discussion in the process. I decided then and there that this would never work out. For one thing, I love my heels. For another, who tells someone after two dates what they can do?