I was looking forward to my date for convenience purposes only. The guy I had been talking to online lived only one subway stop away and we decided to meet at the Starbucks within walking distance of my place. This was my first date with Mouse Boy (you’ll find out why I call him that later on in the post) and he seemed alright. Attractive, had a job, lived close by and had a car.
I get to the Starbucks and see a text from him saying that he is already there, has his drink and is sitting upstairs. It would have been nice if he had waited and ordered with me so he could pay. I order myself a tea and chalk it up to him not knowing good first date etiquette.
I go upstairs and see him right away. The Starbucks is in a old building so it’s super cozy upstairs. There are lots of large wingback chairs and dim lighting. The place is packed. It’s Thursday night and I guess a lot of people go there to study. I go to the back corner and he’s sitting at a table with his coat still on. I introduce myself and he says, “Oh good. I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to get that comfy chair to sit in but didn’t want to lose the table.” The chair he is referring to is wedged in a corner and to get it to our table he will have to ask another couple to get up so he can lift the chair over their table or ask them to shift their table out of the way. It seems like a lot of work for a chair. Since I just met him literally thirty seconds ago, I just keep this opinion to myself.
I watch as he struggles to try to lift the chair, then decides to just drag it across the floor. It makes this horribly loud scraping sound and everyone is looking at us, likely thinking, “Oh his poor girlfriend.” I want to yell out, “He’s not my boyfriend everyone. This is a first and last date in the making.”
After an awkward start, we began talking. The conversation goes a little something like this:
Mouse Boy: “Where did you grow up?”
Mouse Boy: “What a disgusting city.”
Mouse Boy: “What do you do for a living?”
Me: “I’m a legal assistant.”
Mouse Boy: “Do you need to go to school for that?”
Me: “Yes, you do.”
Mouse Boy: “Oh, I totally thought that was the kind of job you could get certified for online.”
It takes Mouse Boy only a few minutes, but he manages to quickly mock my birthplace and my occupation. I’m beginning to wonder if this is part of his strategy or if he is just a moron.
I decide to take the attention off myself and ask him questions about himself. This is when I discover this gem: Mouse Boy is writing a novel. The main character is a mouse. A mouse that lives in a mouse village, with a mouse mother and a mouse father and who is being terrorized by a cat villain.
Ok, so not only is this novel completely unoriginal, it’s also incredibly lame. I keep waiting for him to say it’s a joke but it isn’t. I then become so enthralled with this awful novel I ask him a million questions about it. In my head all I am thinking is, you mocked me?! You spend all your free time basically recreating Stuart Little.
After about twenty minutes, I’m no longer amused and want to end the date. However, Mouse Boy has chosen to get a venti hot chocolate (how manly) and is sipping it. I down my green tea, end up scalding my mouth and say, “Shoot! I forgot I need to be home by 9:00 p.m. I promised my landlord I’d help him with something.” Mouse Boy believes me and offers to walk me home. I politely decline as I would rather sit through a book reading of his crappy novel than have him know where I live.
He then goes in for a kiss. This is where I question men in general. On most dates, when I give no indication that the date has gone well, and some where I have even given indication the date has gone badly, men typically go for a kiss. In this instance, I did the whole “I thought you were trying to hug me” move and hug him instead.
The next day I regaled my male bosses with my date story and their responses were the same: “You NEED to get your hands on this mouse book.” I had planned on never talking to Mouse Boy again, but they were dead set on reading this mouse masterpiece. I try striking up more conversations with Mouse Boy via text, telling him I have an English degree and would love to review his novel for him. After a week of trying, he just won’t budge. I give up and never hear from Mouse Boy again. Perhaps one day that novel will become a best seller and I will run into Mouse Boy drinking a venti hot chocolate in a wingback chair at his book reading. Doubtful.
Do you have any dating adventures you want to share? Leave a comment below or on the FB page