So there I am on date #4,832.
And it’s going O-K.
My date, a longtime employee of an online bidding site that rhymes with C-Bay, is engaging enough – although he’s not good at making eye contact.
He’s already told me that I blink too much.
And he’s admitted he has no filter.
Hmmm. . . sounds like an excuse to say what you want and damn the consequences, but O-K.
He moves a glass on the table and says, “I did that so that I can see your tits better.”
I instinctively cover them up with my hands.
Jesus! Did he really just say that!?
EXCUSE ME? I say loudly.
“Oh sorry. I was joking,” he replied.
And then 5 minutes later… “I really am sorry.”
And again, 5 minutes later… “Sorry.”
I should’ve walked out.
I thought about it.
But by the time it occurred to me, it was too late. The conversation had moved on and we were behaving amiably again.
And a part of me realized with dismay that I’m kinda used to men behaving badly around me, or else I would have left.
I couldn’t make this shit up.