My beloved readers, good news! Bunny is back! By back I mean, back to dating! What’s the best way to get over a relationship? Why, I’m glad you asked. The answer to the question is: REBOUND!
I’ve joined a handful of dating sites. And y’all let me tell you… it’s scary out there. If one more person says, “hi sexy” I’m going to tell them to fuck off. After weeding through multiple contenders I think I found a winner.
It’s Friday night and I’m wearing my fuck me pumps. Because heels make everything better. I’m at one of my favorite cider/beer bars. I arrived early so I could order some loaded tater tots. There’s no way to be sexy while having cheesy/greasy hands. And having your mouth filled with tater tot goodness.
It’s been an hour, I’m still waiting on my date. I don’t want to be that crazy woman. So I send a text simply saying, “How much longer are you going to be?”
Brent, my bartender is a typical frat boy. He gives me a refill and tells me it’s on him. Well, at least one man is being chivalrous this evening.
My date finally walks through the door. But he walks straight past me, doesn’t even acknowledge me. He walks right into the bathroom. I take a deep breath and give myself a mini pep talk. I talk to myself and say, “Be nice, don’t be a bitch. Be nice, don’t hit him with your bag. Wait my bag is too expensive to hit him with it. Be nice, don’t assault a stranger in a public place.”
He pulls out the chair next to me, and sits down. I don’t give him a chance to speak. I automatically ream him saying, “So glad you finally decided to grace me with your presence. Would a text have killed you?”
I know, I know so much for me being nice. But I mean come on, a FUCKING HOUR!!!! He’s lucky I was still there. Well I stayed to finish my tots and cider Brent generously gave to me. But still, come on!
He stares at me, with that stupid blank face. Like he’s in shock. My bartender, then gives him shit too. He says, “Well well… Is this him? You’re way past fashionably late dude. The tab that I started for her, is now yours.”
I ask my idiotic date, what is he drinking? And he speaks, finally. I think the shock froze his brain from functioning for more then a few minutes. He orders a stout. Then turns to me and says, “I apologize for my behavior. I was just a little taken back. Please forgive me and let’s start again.”
Okay, I’m going to give the poor sap a break. We are drinking and talking. I remember we had plans for an activity after drinks. I ask if he’s still up for ax throwing. I do not know if alcohol then axe throwing is a good idea. But I’m willing to give it a go. I still kind of want to put his picture up as the bulls eye. But I doubt they’d let me do that.
Description of the idiot: 5’11, asian, brown eyes, athletic build, very nice arms and calves (cue drooling), and a great smile. He looks better then his pictures. Those pictures online must be a few years old. He really should update them. Because damn he is fun to look at.
Onward to axe throwing, Bunny is pathetic at it. I dropped it behind me. Alcohol before was probably not the best idea. But good news I didn’t injure myself or anyone else. I feel like that’s a win!
I feel like we are hitting off. Even though the night started off atrociously. But after that it’s been really great. I’m interested in going out again. As we go to leave, I tell him I enjoyed the evening. Let’s do this again. I give him shit and ask if I text you will you actually respond this time?
He says, “Yes, of course. But let me give you my new number. I’ve got a new phone.”
So, that explains it. I wish he would have told me that beforehand. But I really didn’t give him a chance to speak. He was a trooper for listening to my pissed tirade.
Later that night, I go to stalk his social media. Like everyone does after a date. This is when I realize… the FUCKER has BLOCKED me.
WHAT THE FUCK!
I angry text him. So much for our great evening. You’ve already blocked me from your social media. Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t interested? Is it so much to ask for a honest answer these days?
He immediately calls. I consider letting it go to voicemail. And wait til the last ring until it would pick up. Then I answer with a snooty tone, “May I help you?”
He tells me he has a confession to make.
Inner Monologue Moment: Oh lord. A confession, he’s married, gay, has a girlfriend, multiple children, a long arrest record, just got out of rehab, needs money, dysfunctional member the list goes on that is going through my mind.
But no. He says, “When I arrived at the bar, I noticed you. And decided to give it a shot and sit next to you.”
I reply, “Why wouldn’t you sit next to me? It’s difficult to talk on a date if we’re not seated close to one another. That’s a certain dating basic. Maybe no one told you that.”
The idiot says, “But my name is Mike.”
Me: “Excuse me? Is that a nickname, middle name, some sort of other name? So who are you? You’re telling me you’re not who I was supposed to meet?”
Mike: “No, I just wanted to get to know you. And I decided to wing it after you went off on me. It was a bit brutal. But I liked it.”
Inner Monologue Moment: Well I feel like shit now. I reamed an innocent stranger who sat next to me at the bar. Well fuck, I’m an awful person.
Mike: “I had a great time. I’d like to go out again. But me as Mike. If you’re up for it?”