Him: Ugh. I’m so full. That was good food, actually.
Him: Yeah, I was expecting it to be bad. Most people are bad cooks.
Me: Oh. Thanks?
Him: Don’t worry. It’s a compliment.
Me: I wasn’t worried. But thank you.
Him: Still. I thought there would be pie.
Me: I didn’t make any today.
Him: I wonder if your pie is any good?
Me: It’s a mystery.
Him: Should I help you do the dishes?
Me: Nah. It’s always awkward doing the dishes in another person’s house. I know where everything goes.
Him: But I feel bad!
Me: Well don’t. I invited you over for dinner.
Him: We should drink this wine I brought. I don’t like the beer.
Me: The beer’s almost gone anyway – but I better lay off the wine.
Him: Why? It’s Saturday night.
Me: I’m feeling oddly full. Like indigestion somehow. Plus I’m teaching all day tomorrow so I better just behave.
Him: Boring! I’m gonna drink this wine.
Me: Have at it.
Him: You’re acting weird. Can I look at your books and judge you on your bookshelf?
Me: Sure, but most of the stuff I really like has been lent out to people that haven’t returned it. So…
Him: That’s what I’d say too, if I were being judged.
Him: Ohmygod. You have the Popol Vuh! Can I have this book?
Him: Can I have this book? Did you read it already?
Me: Uh, sure… You can have the book.
Him: No. I don’t really want it.
Me: It sounded like you did. I just had to think about whether I’m ever going to read it, and I don’t think I am. So go ahead and take it.
Him: Nah. It’s in English, and my professor translated it in Spanish. I think I’ll read it in Spanish. I don’t want to be tainted by the English version.
Me: Yes. By all means – don’t taint yourself.
Him: Ew. Why do you have Joy Luck Club?
Me: Somebody gave it to me. I thought it was a good read.
Him: It’s super racist.
Me: Really? How so? It didn’t strike me as terribly racist.
Him: Oh I don’t know. I haven’t read it. My professor says it’s racist and I believe him. I’m getting more wine.
Me: I’ve had a few Chinese American friends read it and say it was relatively close to their own experiences as first generation Americans. I don’t think Amy Tan is a member of the Klan or anything.
Him: Hm. Wow. I’m really plowing through this wine. You should have some with me.
Me: I don’t know if that’s a great idea. I’m feeling a little off. I ate this ham earlier today. It was really cheap and I think it was leftover from Easter. I’m feeling strange.
Him: Something’s wrong with the lighting in here. You need something less bright than this lamp, but brighter than this other one.
Me: I have this – flip that switch over there.
Him: Ohmygod! What is this??
Me: It’s an antique x-ray light from the 1950’s. There’s an actual x-ray in there, too.
Him: Ew. Gross. I don’t like it. I do not like it.
Me: Okay then. Turn it off.
Him: I’m pouring myself some more wine.
Me: Go for it.
Him: I’m not leaving until I finish this wine.
Me: Well you don’t have far to go.
Him: Let’s lay on your bed for a minute.
Me: Hey. You’re really cute, but I’m starting… Feel my forehead. Do I have a fever?
Him: Um. NO. You don’t.
Me: You didn’t feel my forehead.
Him: Come on. Just lay down with me.
Me: I’m really feeling out of sorts. Like, I think I may have eaten tainted food.
Him: Ugh. Look. I’m going to be straightforward. I want to have sex. Do you want to have sex?
Me: I think you’re attractive – but I’m really not feeling well. I think I gave myself food poisoning, somehow.
Him: You’re acting irrational and weird. Make out with me.
Me: You need to work on your game.
Me: You don’t call people weird and irrational and then ask them to make out. Listen to me, okay? I think I have a fever.
Him: So, sex, or no sex?
Me: No sex. Probable diarrhea.
Him: Me and my friends are going dancing tonight. You should come.
Me: I. Am. Ill.
Him: Okay, cool. Am I ever going to see you again, mister?
Me: Maybe. Maybe we can hang out again…
Him: Look. Just tell me right now yes or no.
Me: This is a first date. Cool it on the ultimatums.
Him: I’m not leaving until I finish my wine.
Me: I gathered.
Him: I really like your apartment, actually. I expected not to like it.
Me: Thank you. You’re too kind. Jerk.
16 thoughts on “FriDATE: Tainted”
You’re lucky someone with such high standards approved of some portion of your life.
Based on your last two encounters, I am now truly convinced the dating scene in NYC is absolutely sit-comical. You can’t’ fabricate this kind of anguished and slightly hysterical dramedy anywhere else, I think. Where do you meet these guys, jerk?
Mostly online. Thanks for reading, jerk.
Do you intentionally go on dates with people that you think you’re more intelligent than to make yourself look better when you write about it online? I’m serious. You come off as so holier-than-thou you’re either embellishing – or at least altering to your advantage – much of these conversations, or you go out of your way to find idiots to make fun of to your readers on the internet. It was funny the first few reads, but it’s just the same old bad date where “Him” doesn’t have any social tact or depth, and “Me” is completely grounded, sane, and level-headed. Is this a self-esteem thing? It really is starting come off as “look at how great I am! Can you believe I keep going on these dates with such duds?!” Do you go on any good dates? Are these just the bad ones? Look, I don’t mean to be an asshole. You seem like a cool guy. You seem interesting, you’re hot, you’re funny, and I bet you make delicious food, but to be frank, you’re really starting to come off as a big jerk, Jerk.
Andrew, you really have to work on your flirting skills. Still, it’s flattering.
I figured that’s the type of response I’d get, seeing as how what I wrote wasn’t some two-dimensional middle-school comment criticizing something on your bookshelf. But I’ll take it as a sort of affirmation: you’re a jerk.
Andrew, what you wrote was an out and out attack that I didn’t feel deserved a serious response. I don’t understand what type of reaction you were trying to trigger by calling me a bunch of names? I blog about awkward dates and cringe-worthy situations – it’s right at the top of my web page. If you don’t like it, best just to close the site, rather than attack me for it.
Where do you blog online? I’d like to read what you write, make personal assumptions about you, and criticize your choices.
Oh wait, no I wouldn’t. But if you’d like to go on a date…
I didn’t call you names, nor did I attack you. I stated how you are coming off to me in these re-caps of your dates, and asked you questions about them. Don’t put something on the internet – let alone allow people to comment about it – if you can’t handle criticism or give a dignified response.
I’m not even criticizing you for writing about your awkward dates. I think that’s a funny premise. My only criticism comes from how extremely one-sided the awkwardness seems in every single post. It’s like the entire time you’re rolling your eyes, or winking to the audience, throughout the re-cap. I’m sure I’m not the first to wonder why you’re consistently going on so many awful dates that you seem over or better than before they even begin.
I don’t have a blog myself, but if I did and I wrote about something as personal as you do in the way in which you write, I would expect personal assumptions, criticism (both constructive and not) and yes, the occasional attack (which I still believe is not what I did).
I’m not surprised that you don’t have a blog yourself. Some people find it easier to criticize the work of others than to actually put themselves out there in a real way. You called me holier than thou, and implied that I suffer from self esteem issues, no? That’s what I meant when I said you were name calling and attacking.
I’m a little confused. You say you like the premise, but then complain when I execute the premise. That seems like an odd complaint. So, you think my postings are a little one sided? Okay, fine, but I’m not naming these people or showing photographs of them. I’m not harming anyone by writing this. Me blogging about the dates in a ‘one-sided’ way is the equivalent of me telling my pals over brunch about an awful date I had last night. Who’s side am I supposed to tell but my own?
Am I intentionally going out with people who seem awkward, defensive, or lacking in social skills? Absolutely. That’s what I write about, after all. That’s my currency. Do I think I’m better than them, or smarter than them? Nope. I just write about the awkward, cringe-worthy things they wind up saying to me.
I’m not going to apologize for expressing myself on my own website. I get that you don’t like it, but I’m flattered that you’re reading.
Andrew, this really is the most convoluted way anyone’s ever asked me on a date. Sheesh.
Oh. Also. I find it hilarious that you pick THIS particular entry for your tirade. I mean, this guy pressured me to have sex while I had a fever, and I have to explain why I’m not a jerk? Priceless.
This is fiction right? I still can’t believe all these dates you go on. LOL!
i think…….. i think i enjoyed reading the argument between you and andrew much more that the actual post itself. not that the post wasn’t entertaining, because it was. (:
So Michael –
When someone asks if he should help you do the dishes and you say no-thank-you (which you did very graciously), the right response from him really should be something like this:
“In that case, while you do the dishes, may I scratch your back or rub your head or caress your neck?”
IMHO, of course.
I’m seriously starting to doubt the quality of your apartment’s lighting.