One Night in Brooklyn

13 Apr

I spent last Friday sharing the joys of Williamsburg with a friend prior to embarking on a blind date at a nearby bar.  The gentleman I was meeting worked in advertising, played kickball in his spare time, and previously lived in Massachusetts.  The fact that we had both attended school in Boston was his initial conversation starter.  Upon arriving at the bar, “Bill” sauntered through the door and abruptly gestured at me like he was lining up a billiards shot.  This was only the first of an assortment of abrupt and off-putting gestures.  He looked a lot like a cartoon wolf and had “quarter-slot nostrils” as my friend calls them…meaning you could insert coins and take a gentle ride on him outside your local supermarket.  He sat down next to me, straddling the barstool with his legs spread a little too wide apart, and with his head tipped way back.  I had a feeling this was not going to go well.  After a beer (and a terribly boring conversation about hummus) he assessed the progression of the date aloud, saying he thought it would be “cool” for us to have another beer together.  I guess my hummus discourse passed the test.  He went on to compare himself to various characters in “Mad Men” and kept laughing really hard at his own jokes.  He wondered if I had ever climbed a mountain (uhhhh) and boasted that he had three mountains under his belt.  After the second beer, he invited me to go to his friend’s apartment with him.  I gave us both an easy out by telling him I was going to stay at the bar and eat dinner.  I’ve found this strategy to work almost every time…whenever someone is ready to leave and I don’t want to go with them, I declare it time to stay at the bar and eat a sandwich.

After Bill left, I proceeded to get hit on by two 40-something tax auditors who had been eyeing me for the past hour.  One of them was getting all hot and bothered because he thought the bartender had given him attitude and the other kept rolling his eyes at his friend.  The quieter one told me he was out looking for “love” that night, but that I was too close in age to his daughter.  The macho man revealed that he was on match.com after I shared with them that I had been on a blind date.  He said his biggest complaint about online dating was that all of the women on the site lied about their body types and only had pictures from the shoulders up…so when he met them in person he was dissatisfied with the whole package.  I told him that my pictures on OkCupid were only of my face and both auditors said that was ok because they liked what they saw.  Well, thank god.  I quickly paid my tab and left after the obnoxious one asked me to take my sweater off so he could check out “the goods.”

On my way home, I stopped at another bar where some friends were hanging out.  As I was enjoying my beverage of choice, I suddenly felt a tiny paw groping the small of my back.  I turned around to find a pocket-sized individual with a big hat, but no pot of gold.  He saddled up next to me at the bar, bought me a drink, and began an in-depth dissertation on punk bands…occasionally extending a petite limb to touch my thigh or back.  When he tried to wiggle his way onto my barstool, I decided I had had enough excitement for one night, and made the long, cold trek home.

Better luck next time, girl!

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