Horrible Date Saga #1 – The Bread Mangler

We meet online and start chatting. He’s funny and has some of the same interests so we start phone calling and talking for hours. I kind of like his laugh and the way he says things. I don’t like how he suddenly has to leave, but maybe he’s playing it coy. There are a few other red flags, nothing specific yet, but little flutters in my gut telling me this might not work. I ignore them and we set up a date, not knowing that soon I would have all the specific red flags I would need.

During the day as I sit at a desk I plan out my night and what I’m going to wear. I am a vegan so he has planned to take me to a veggie restaurant in the valley. I have heard of it and am excited to go. He tells me, through our conversations leading up to “date night” that I should leave work early and get out to the valley before traffic. I tell him that’s not an option and I’ll get there when I can. He sighs and says “Fine. But you’re going to hit traffic.” I already feel like I’m in the middle of a married argument. Like we’ve had this fight 100 times about how I refuse to leave work early. (Red Flag #1). I end up get stalled at work and leave 30 minutes later than I want. I call and tell him that I’m rushing home to change and am on my way. He sighs again (apparently this date is really putting him out) and tells me to just call him when I’m about a mile away and he’ll get dressed.

I’m sorry- “get dressed”?!!? I’m driving 20 minutes out of my way to get ready for this date and he hasn’t even bothered to start getting ready. (Red Flag #2). AND he has picked a place that is 30 miles from my house and yet only one from his own. (Red Flag #3) I immediately call my sister and she tells me not to go. That I don’t owe him anything and he obviously doesn’t care if the date is going to happen or not. I have never stood someone up and I didn’t want this to be the first time. I tell her I’ll meet him halfway and then only stay for a drink. She tells me good luck.

I call him and tell him I hit traffic and it was going to take me over an hour to get to him. He says “I told you”. I take a deep breath and suggest we meet at the Cheesecake Factory in Sherman Oaks. It’s halfway and easy to find. He says he doesn’t feel like eating there but he “guesses” it will work. (Red Flag #4)

I get to the place, park and head inside. I sit down and order a vodka martini, dirty with extra olives, and ask the waiter to keep them coming. I sit and wait. And wait. And wait. 20 minutes after I sit down he walks in and says “I figured that was you. You already have a drink.” (Red Flag #5) He stands there like he’s waiting for something and it takes a few seconds for me to realize he wants a hug. Really? I don’t know you…..but….okay…..I guess. I stand and give him a quick hug and sit down.

The waiter comes over and my date asks for a Heffeweisen (“I love that beer” he says as he tries to smile at me. In fact making eye contact is even difficult for us at this point). The waiter leaves to get the beer and another martini for me. He brings back a basket of bread. I love Cheesecake Factory bread. But before I can even reach for any my date has pulled the entire basket to his side of the table and proceeds to pull both loaves out of the basket and tear them into chunks. He touches every part of the bread possible.

“Can you not touch all the bread, please” I ask, trying to be polite.
“What” he says, looking at me over the mangled bread “you have a problem with germs?”
“What? No. I just-“
“Next you’re going to tell me I can’t use the knife or touch anything else on the table” (Red Flag #6)

I’m speechless and more than a little irritated at this point. I try to laugh it off, something about how little I care about germs, when thankfully the waiter appears with our drinks. He gives me mine and hands my date his Hef. He looks at the beer and says “Is that an orange?”

“Yes sir” says the more than polite server.

“I can’t have citrus, I’m allergic. I need a new beer.” He doesn’t apologize, he doesn’t ask. He demands. (Red Flag #7)

The waiter looks at me as if to say “It’s a Hef. What idiot who says Hef is their favorite doesn’t know a slice of citrus comes with a Hef?” I just smile empathetically, trying to relay to my server that he and I were in this date together and just trying to survive. A few minutes later an orange-less Hef appears and my date starts drinking. Our server asks if we’re ready to order. I look at my date questioningly, “Did you want to eat?”

“Of course I’m eating. Don’t tell me you’re one of those girls who doesn’t order anything and then eats off my plate.” (Red Flag #8)

“Um….no. No I’m not.” I tell our server we need a little time, banter about the huge size of the menu, and he leaves.

My date and I talk for a little and it doesn’t take long before we are arguing. The bickering starts small, disagreements about movies and tv and politics. Probably some religion thrown in there. At some point I look to my right at the two girls sitting a table away from us. They have the most uncomfortable looks on their faces and I am embarrassed to realize that my date is the reason. Our arguing has left a negative taste in my mouth and I am really happy to see our water approach us again.

I order a salad and a cup of soup. Something light and easy to prepare, in the hopes I can get out of this date alive. My date looks at the menu for another long moment, turns to the waiter, hands him the menu and orders ORANGE CHICKEN.

My second martini disappeared before the waiter even turned the corner to place our order. I got up to 4 martinis and 14 Red Flags that night. Needless to say, there was no second date.