I had a date last night with a sexy-ass Italian from north Jersey. You would think that this would be the perfect date for me considering, on paper, he fits the bill for what I want in a man: tall, gorgeous, and ripped. It definitely helped his case out that he was from Jersey too, not that I’m looking for anybody specifically from home or the east coast, but there’s somewhat of a rugged realness that comes with men from Jersey or New York (or from any major city for that matter) that I just can’t get enough of. Any way…
I asked him to meet me at Stout (I really need to stop bringing all my dates here…), and after hugging him hello, I immediately thought, “GOD what a rock-hard body….check” (at this point please do not be surprised at how shallow I am during my selection process). He sat down and within 30 seconds began a long, incessant rant about how much he HATE HATE HATES LA and can’t wait to move back to Jersey and OMG U LIKE IT HERE Jesus I hate it I wanna go back so badly everything sucks the people suck my job really sucks my LIFE sucks this is why EVERYTHING out here just SUCKS!
…………whoa dude. I just met you. …..really? =( As to not be rude and come off as a total cunt who actually wanted to tell him how utterly irritated and annoyed I was at the fact that he was so complainy and pessimistic, I validated him for missing home and having trouble out here due to the difference in cultures…basically things I didn’t have to do considering I was no longer at work! As a means to calm my own nerves from getting so irritated and tense, I began to order drink after drink after drink as he talked NON-STOP about everything he hated in California and every single type of way that New Jersey was better (mind you, I gave up drinking alcohol for Lent…so in other words, I broke my PROMISE TO JESUS as a means to deal with this date!). He would stop every so often to ask me something about myself, then proceed to cut me off to talk even more abouthimself…so drink even more I did. Eventually, I left to go to the bathroom and text Drama that he BETTER COME SAVE ME GOD DAMMIT OH MY GOD PLEASE!!!!!!!! I apparently also managed to drunk-text M&M “To,” when I meant to say, “Yo.” Ugh. Precisely why I should not have his number. I get back to my seat and he at this point is now flirtier and touchier (probably because he realizes how drunk and easier I’m lookin at this point), eventually mentioning that,
Him: Yeah ya know I’ve only dated Filipino girls throughout my life.
RED FLAG RED FLAG HE HAS A CREEPY ASIAN FETISH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Me: *pretending to be completely turned on by this detail* Oooooh yeah? *giggling* Well I’ve only dated Italian guys throughout my whole life… (eww oh fuck does that mean I have a creepy Italian fetish?!)
Anyway, I eventually met up with Drama and Scandal, ended my date, and made it back home…somehow and some way that I can’t currently recall. He texted me later last night talking about how he’d love to see me again and even more so today saying the same, but I think I’ll pass. Besides, I’m even more irritated that I wasted a super hot outfit on a not-so-hot date. Hate when that happens. Next time, I’m going in a wifebeater and boxers with no makeup or deodorant. That should ward off creepy-asian-fetish men…