When I returned to OkCupid this time around, I made it very clear on my profile that I have a type. "Have you been arrested or charged with a misdemeanor? I'd probably like you." I've decided not to beat around the bush any more: I like criminals. It's kind of a dealbreaker.
So when I got a message from a man who told me immediately that he was arrested in a high-speed chase, I thought "Sweet! Let's go out and try to fall in love with each other," because that's as good a reason as any. He had a beard but said he worked in politics, so I took a gamble and told myself I could overlook the facial hair as long as he wasn't in the tech sector.
It was a gorgeous night in Seattle to meet at a patio bar for a drink, and I was feeling quite hopeful. There was no way I was going to have a bad time, I reassured myself, because he's been arrested. I'd arrived at lucky number 76, and I was optimistic he was the one.
Then we met... He was about three inches shorter than his stated height, wearing a too-tight white shirt with a button popped open, hair greasy and matted as though he'd been wearing a baseball cap for several days straight. Nothing about him seemed fun or even remotely criminal. I wanted to turn around and run, but that would had been rude, so I asked the bartender for the strongest beer possible and without waiting for my date to order, I paid for my drink in cash. I was 100% uninterested; we were not starting a tab together.
He ordered a "rum and cola," and I rolled my eyes, deciding on a fundamental level that we had nothing in common as human beings. It's obviously Rum and Coke. He was lame.
Then he told me about his job in politics: "I actually am the only IT guy for the ____ court in Seattle, so I keep all the systems running."
If working in politics means you do IT, then I work in Mexico because my patients are Hispanic.
I'm not sure what happened for the rest of the date because I was quite focused on my beer. It was delicious- medium-bodied and a bit citrusy while not too bitter. My date kept talking and I pleasantly agreed, "Uhhuh... Yeah... That's really cool... Wow..", over and over again for about ninety minutes.
He stopped and asked me how I was doing.
"I actually have to get up really early tomorrow so I should get going."
We left the bar and awkwardly hugged on the street corner (it wouldn't be a proper first date if we didn't). He made a vague suggestion to hang out again, and I responded with an equally vague "Have a good night!", which didn't address the offer of hanging out whatsoever. Passive aggressive Seattle style. That's the way I do.
So when I got a message from a man who told me immediately that he was arrested in a high-speed chase, I thought "Sweet! Let's go out and try to fall in love with each other," because that's as good a reason as any. He had a beard but said he worked in politics, so I took a gamble and told myself I could overlook the facial hair as long as he wasn't in the tech sector.
It was a gorgeous night in Seattle to meet at a patio bar for a drink, and I was feeling quite hopeful. There was no way I was going to have a bad time, I reassured myself, because he's been arrested. I'd arrived at lucky number 76, and I was optimistic he was the one.
Then we met... He was about three inches shorter than his stated height, wearing a too-tight white shirt with a button popped open, hair greasy and matted as though he'd been wearing a baseball cap for several days straight. Nothing about him seemed fun or even remotely criminal. I wanted to turn around and run, but that would had been rude, so I asked the bartender for the strongest beer possible and without waiting for my date to order, I paid for my drink in cash. I was 100% uninterested; we were not starting a tab together.
He ordered a "rum and cola," and I rolled my eyes, deciding on a fundamental level that we had nothing in common as human beings. It's obviously Rum and Coke. He was lame.
Then he told me about his job in politics: "I actually am the only IT guy for the ____ court in Seattle, so I keep all the systems running."
If working in politics means you do IT, then I work in Mexico because my patients are Hispanic.
I'm not sure what happened for the rest of the date because I was quite focused on my beer. It was delicious- medium-bodied and a bit citrusy while not too bitter. My date kept talking and I pleasantly agreed, "Uhhuh... Yeah... That's really cool... Wow..", over and over again for about ninety minutes.
He stopped and asked me how I was doing.
"I actually have to get up really early tomorrow so I should get going."
We left the bar and awkwardly hugged on the street corner (it wouldn't be a proper first date if we didn't). He made a vague suggestion to hang out again, and I responded with an equally vague "Have a good night!", which didn't address the offer of hanging out whatsoever. Passive aggressive Seattle style. That's the way I do.
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