A Failure
In my self-righteous, post-dumped phase, I feel entitled to free meals and attention from men whom I plan to dump. I also agreed to go on a blind date.
In my opinion, a blind date should be either wonderful or disastrous. I had personally hoped for disastrous, since I had already decided not to like the guy. For this purpose, I was hoping for a purple mohawk, lots of facial piercings, and an addictive drug habit. For example, Turret’s syndrome would have been fantastic.
Unfortunately, the guy turned out to be extremely likeable, polite, and normal looking. He even has an apartment and a job. Normal people like this make me very uncomfortable.
"So what do you do for a living?"
"How do you like San Francisco?"
Pointless banter made me yearn for the rude, crude gossip that I make with friends like Shannon, who most recently started complaining about her boyfriend's bad habits in bed. In detail. And in comparison to other guys' habits in bed. ("Robin was so much hotter, do you want to sleep with him? I think you should give it a try so we can compare notes.")
Who cares how I feel about San Francisco.
To future date prospects:
- I fart
- I speak too loud in restaurants
- I say cuss words near children
Being around well-mannered people makes me very uncomfortable.
Plus, overly nice guys are not as satisfying to break up with.