Gavin broke his foot this weekend. He landed on it wrong and just cracked the bone clear in half. I got the call that he needed to go to the ER while I was getting a blow out for a date that evening. Oh well, so much for the date, I figured. I packed Gav up in the truck and headed to the ER. He was splinted and out of the ER in under 2 hours so I still had time for my date.
And it was awful. Not just awful but AWFUL – in all caps, just like that. First of all, he announced halfway through our date that the “Mexicans” were in a conspiracy to take over our government. Um, really? His racism astounded me and was so offensive I should’ve ended the date there.
He kept asking me, “So what are your hobbies?” So I told him – hiking, camping, rafting, quilting, etc. Then he asked again, “What other hobbies do you have?” Um…. Cooking, cleaning, working, driving my car? And “Do you play any sports?” No. He seemed wildly disappointed in me.
He also kept burping the whole time we were out together. I mean not just a burp here and there, but a burp every minute. All I could think was “I am NOT kissing that mouth.”
But what finally did him in is that he was sweating profusely for our entire date. He kept taking cocktail napkins and mopping his face and forehead, then setting the napkin down right by our food. Oh gross. I pictured myself underneath him with his sweat dripping all over me and I nearly ended the date right then and there.
Did I also mention that he had girly hands? Tiny delicate little girl hands. This may not seem like a big deal to you but when you’re a girl who likes big, burly man hands, tiny little women hands just don’t do it.
Eventually, I got so tired that I had to ask him to take me home. No sense in prolonging a date this painful.
He drove me home and looked at me expectantly from across the front seat.
No. No way in hell, I thought.
And with that I got out of the car.
But then I felt bad so I leaned back into the car and gave him a hug .
His sweat covered my cheek.
Yes, his sweat was all over my cheek.
A parting gift, I suppose.
I will NOT be going out with him ever again. I may just be scarred from going out with other men.
…I have another date tomorrow afternoon.