A Dating Story

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A long long time ago (like 2 weeks or so), in a galaxy far far away (otherwise known as the suburb of Newtown) I found myself on a date. Let's call him.....the magician.
For this particular date I broke my cardinal rule of no leaving Philly, make him come to me. The magician was new to the area, had never been to philly, and really didn't seem to keen on coming into the city. I agreed to drag my ass up to Newtown because in our emails and phone converstaions (brief as they were) the magician made me laugh. Something new and different for my eharmony dates! So i decided 'what the hell', threw caution to the wind, and drove the 40 minutes up 95.

The magician is a teacher at a private school, and lives on campus. I arrive, and he greets me in a parking lot outside his building...but standing 20 feet away from me and saying "hey". I'm all "hello? is that you over there? where am i? why are you standing so far away?" He leads me into the dorm (sophmore boys, how appropriate), into his apartment- which is empty. No, like really empty. I am greeted by a large tv, a desk with a computer, and a tin single bed like i slept on at camp. This was all the furniture spread out over 3 large rooms. Oh, and some bookshelves filled with boring books (all college text books, no actual 'i like to read' books). Strike one.

The magician promptly asked me what I wanted to do. To which i thought, "me? but you invited me here! i don't know what there is to do here, but i'd prefer something where i can sit. like, on a chair". Instead i said, "ummmm what is there to do here?". he replied "oh, ummm. not much. i guess i didn't think about what we would do when you got here". Strike two. How do you not think about what you're going to do on a first date, especially when you're forcing someone to come to you and you don't have any FURNITURE. Needless to say, his bright idea was to give me a tour of the campus. It was pretty, and pretty boring. It took all of say, 10 minutes. and i spent a few of those sitting in the magician's classroom at a desk that made me feel i was back in high school. which was not my prime dating time. Let's move on.

So we're back in the empty apartment, he's wrangled up an uncomfortable chair for me to sit on. the magician proceeds to talk about himself, incessantly. in our 2 and a half hour date i think i learned his entire life story without really asking. During this particular stretch, he begins to tell me that he can't afford furniture- for a plethora of reasons, one of which is college debt, particularly racked up after valentine's day of last year when he took four friends to Las Vegas for the weekend. "oh, do you want to see the pictures?" inner monologue:"no not really, this is bizarre". cut to us on his facebook account, looking at his drunken photo album of him and his FOUR GIRLFRIENDS in las vegas, drunk off their asses getting lap dances. wonderful. classy. everything a date should be. Strike 5000. Funny enough, I don't leave yet. This is still near the beginning of the date....just wait.

So mr. magician is waxing poetically about his debt and how he likes to spend money, and the stupid tshirt he's wearing cost him $300 at the Louis Vuitton store in vegas. First of all, who spends $300 on a tshirt? and Secondly, who buys tshirts at louis vuitton? buy a wallet or a scarf or a piece of fabric that looks like luggage. not a tshirt. but okaaaaaay fine. I announced I am hungry. He says, "ok i know a place we can go"- aka- the only restaurant he's ever been off campus, which is 100 yards away. He makes me drive. It's a sports bar. Great. We sit outside, even though it's overcast. Like he is worried we might have to make a quick getaway. I'm thinking i'm the one who is going to run away, but whatever.

So. We sit, he keeps talking about himself. Why he's 24 and just graduated from college, how he spent 2 years after high school living in new york doing nothing but mooching off of various people and working odd, kind of crappy jobs. lovely. Oh wait! First there was the story of how his co-workers think he's an alcoholic. Great first date story, magician. Way to warm me up. Apparently he went out w/ some other teachers and had six drinks and wasn't drunk- and like, went around telling everyone he wasn't drunk? And so now he 'has a problem'. It's the big gossip on campus. It's also ridiculous and information I don't really need to know. Like ever.
While he's telling me this story I ordered a diet coke. He has a coke. He only gets through half of it though before telling me that soda bothers his stomach because he's incapable of burping.......(that's my silent awkward face in response). He then orders a drink, a shot of ammaretto, a shot of chambord, and half and half (ick, sounds gross). The waitress asks him if it's got a name, so she can enter it into the computer- oh yes. it has a name. This lovely drink concoction is called a Wet Pussy. (Cut to me almost spitting out my soda all over the table). The waitress cracks up- clearly this is her lucky day. She delivers the drink minutes later, saying the bartender has never heard that name- this drink is really called Nuts and Berries, and is apparently a favorite among the gays. (Cut to the magician making a face and sulking at being called gay).

Ok so- going well so far, right? As i'm eating my chicken fingers (in a basket, in case you were wondering) the magician continues his worldly life stories. and interjects that he is "really really smart" and "didn't go to class at all in college, cause he could teach himself his entire college education, while drunk and magic" (you know, the game magic, i don't know how to explain it). Once again, cut to me almost choking on my chicken finger, partly cause it was really hot, and partly because i can't believe i'm eating with such a jackass. like seriously. he sees me almost choking and instead of trying to help goes "oh, i guess that came out wrong- i just feel like i'm saying a lot of dumb things, and i don't want you to think i'm stupid". Well, now i think you're a rude jackass, don't mind me though i'm not CHOKING or anything. The fingers go down, i recover, everything is fine. This is when it's apparently my turn to shine:
"so, tell me about yourself"..... me: "well, what would you like to know? i'm not sure i can top some of your stories".... him: "oh i dont know, whatever". yeah thanks, at least pretend to be interested in something besides yourself and your wet pussy, dickwad.

When we finish eating and leave the bar, I decide we should drive through town, in an effort to avoid going back to the big gaping hole of nothingness that is his apartment. He agrees, but then when we get to the cute little one block downtown, he refuses to park and get out of the car for any reason whatsoever. There were some cute stores, a little street fair. No way no how. he's not interested. Silly me remarks that i'm seeing a few too many John McCain signs on people's lawns. what kind of people live in newtown anyway? Well, the magician is not into politics: "i'm apathetic. i don't really care about national politics". Ok. Really? Do you really think after all this that you're going to impress me with your surprising lack of opinion on something? No. you're not. especially something like the presidential race, which i find to be extremely important. What else you got for me magician?

Oh- no worries, as we're driving back to campus he tells me that- low and behold, he is a MAGICIAN (hence, the name). Like, a real, live magician. He apparently really moved to new york after high school to hang out with magicians. apparently they all hang out once a week at a restaurant on 35th street. you should go check it out. i bet its real cool.

Surprise surprise, we're back at the abyss of the apartment, only now he's doing card tricks. This is the longest god damned date of my life. Card tricks? Ok in fairness, they're actually pretty good. But WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON. He tries to show me some booklet that was a lecture he gave to the magic community, but i'm beyond not interested in that. Stop trying to impress me magician, you lost me long ago, probably when you didn't even walk all the way up to me in the parking lot to say hi.

Finally, FINALLY i leave to head back to the city. He walks me to my car, again stops like 10 feet away to like, wave as i walk the last part to my car (is he afraid of parking lots?). Yeah, great to meet you magician. So glad we did this. We'll have to do it again soon. I feel dumber for knowing your life story.

The best part, is that night he emailed me to tell me what a great time he had, and that we 'should definitely do it again'. Ummmmmm thanks but no thanks mr. magician. Get a clue.
Strike 4890348709032957.
Eharmony strikes again!

A No Good Very Bad Day

So. There's lots of things to discuss. I've been gone for a while, and i've been busy. There are funny yet sad dating stories to share. But not right now. Now, i'm going to describe my day. Because I need someone to appreciate the craziness of my day.

Work was busy, busier than usual. I had five clients back to back, and they all showed up! Some clients are making progress, others were harder to deal with, and by the end of the day i was exhausted and cranky. Now, my mother was coming to visit today. I've known this for a while, and was preparing the apartment for her arrival. I still had to clean the bathroom though. So while I was looking for parking- my mom called. She was standing somewhere around 30th St. Station waiting for a bus. I told her she had to be on Chestnut St., she said she was. But there was no bus stop. I told her to walk towards Center City until she saw a bus stop. But no, that would be too much. Perhaps the buses no longer go down Chestnut st? To which i responded, ummmmm no. Septa doesn't just change major routes, just walk until you see an actual bus stop. My mother, the wonderful Evelyn- said i was being obnoxious and rude and she was going home. then hung up on me. Wonderful.

So I parked my car and came home to clean the bathroom and change. I threw some last minute things into the washing machine, and was on the phone with Matt updating him on my latest horrible date story (to be described later) when God decided to laugh at me:
a loud noise started going off in the apartment. I tracked it down, and low and behold my washing machine was overflowing! hurray! suds! I called my mom, who promptly told me i should call a plumber because it wasn't her problem. And oh, she was wondering the streets in case i wanted to know, cause i'm a terrible daughter who can't help her find the bus.
I went to call the woman who routinely has to fix my shitty washing machine, when i heard someone jiggling my lock. Thinking Evelyn had decided to cab it- i opened the door for her- except it was a hispanic handyman. Wearing a toolbelt. Wanting to fix things. I thought- how did you find out about my washing machine that fast? But in reality, he had the wrong apartment. Too bad he was insistent he had the right apartment, and was convinced I was wrong. Then came a ridiculous conversation involving me going "no really, i didn't hire you to come here. i don't have a problem in my bathroom. i promise. no- no i really do think you have the wrong apartment". the handyman called his boss- Jose. Then went off to find someone else's apartment to fix things in. In the meantime- Evelyn showed up.
She came in, and wandered around passive aggressively looking for the Gizmo while not talking to me. It was great. I went about my business and got the washing machine lady on the phone. I was instructed to put fabric softener into the machine to get rid of some of the suds, run it for 3 minutes, change the setting, run it for 10 minutes, then fill it up with a gallon of vinegar (??) and let it run again for the full cycle (sans soaking). so, add to my night tracking down a gallon of vinegar.
I'm trying to get on my way to supervision, like i do every thursday, but mom decides she wants to talk. Particularly about why i'm such a terrible child who's always rude to her. Which i'm not, by the way. She is uber sensitive and considers rude to be me not calling her everyday in a bright and shiny mood with good news. Oh please. So she threatens to go home and punish me by trying to make me feel guilty. and i tell her that she's gotta do what she's gotta do.
Oh by the way, Jose the boss handyman showed up- and showed me his list of things to fix in my apartment. A few minutes were spent convincing him that he meant apartment 300, not 301. He was insistent that it was 301- but finally he went away after i told him he should try and put his key into the door and would realize it wouldn't work- cause he had the key to 300. And i hadn't hired him and wouldn't be paying him.
Now late, I went off to supervision to apologize to my supervisor and discuss my oh so lovely day. I then went and got my nails done, and went to meet this mysterious Penn grad with a business proposition at Starbucks (oh, and i found vinegar at an asian market) but was stood up, and sat sipping my non fat mint mocha not wanting to go home.

But home I came, unloading my vinegar into the washing machine, praying it works, catching up on tv just awaiting the wonderful weekend ahead. Full of passive aggressiveness i'm sure.

The dating stories will have to wait.