The girl who goes on bad dates

Last night was a birthday gathering for a good friend of mine. About twenty of her girl friends, and three of her guy friends, gathered together at a martini bar for drinks. There were the general "get to know you" conversations between different groups and everyone seemed to be having a good time. While talking to my friend's sister she suddenly stopped in the middle of the conversation and said to me, "are you the girl who goes on all the bad dates?"

I was a little shocked at this. Do I go on bad dates? I turned to the birthday girl and asked her if I was indeed the friend who she had told her sister went on all the bad dates. Yes, it turns out I was.

The conversation continued:

"I guess I am that girl."

"Give me an example."

"Well, there was the guy that talked about basil for fifteen minutes straight. The "jack-off" guy I went on a date with last year. The guy who cried on the first date."

And as I sat there recounting some of my worst dates to this stranger I realized that, yes, I was he girl who went on bad dates. How did this slip by me? How had I never known this about myself before now. So here, I list for you the basics of the bad dates I've been on:

• The guy who cried on the first date. This was actually a blind date set up through a friend, and he seemed to be the marrying guy. He spent the night asking me all kinds of incredibly intimate questions. You know, the questions you don't ask until that night three months into a new relationship where you stay up talking for hours. "Tell me something real about you. What's your biggest regret? What's one thing you could take back?" Calm down buddy, at least let me finish my cocktail. At dinner he said, "Ok, I'm ready for you to ask me questions now." Alright....what's your biggest regret? I was simply repeating a question he had asked me. I didn't mean for him to sob into his pasta. I mean, we were at a nice place in the West Village, this was unnecessary. Anyway we left the restaurant when all of a sudden he just had to sit on this stoop on Perry Street. So we sat. And he told me about the 5 kids and house in the country he wanted. The moment I expressed my lack of wanting children, the man was off the stoop and in a cab. I was left standing alone on Perry Street, feeling much relieved if truth be told. Did I mention this was at midnight?
  
• Basil. Apparently it grows in all sorts of weathers. Is easy to grow. Can be used in a lot of dishes. And...I pretty much stopped listening three minutes in. I mean how long can two people discuss an herb? Perhaps he was just nervous. Perhaps it was the third date and that's when I really knew...it just wasn't going to work out. No one loves basil that much.
• The racist. He talked about how he used to be a server and he knew that black people gave bad tips. He spoke many times of the "Chinese dude" wearing the weird hat, and he spoke freely about many other races. And I'm pretty sure he was Armenian. God knows what he would have thought of me if I didn't happen to be white. He called me again, but I did not pick up.
• The "I forgot my wallet" guy. No you didn't, you're just cheap. And I only had one glass of wine anyway, it wouldn't have been that expensive. Good luck with that.
• The asshole guy. I was held up for 15 minutes! I couldn't leave work, in this industry you just have to stay late sometimes. Shouldn't you want a girl who cares about her career? How dare you call me unpunctual, I'm always on time. Jerk. Who want's to date a Long Island cop anyway?
• The sleep-over guy. It's the second date. No you can not sleep over. I don't care what time your train leaves. No, I have no couch, and I don't know you. Note to self: Avoid Long Island guys.
• The Jack-off guy. I won't repeat the entire story as I've already detailed it in an earlier posting. But on a first date, you should never, EVER, say anything along the lines of "what am I supposed to just jack off for the next five days?"
• Also never assume that a girl is a lesbian just because she isn't into you.
• Then there's the latest with the Photographer who chose the most inopportune time to tell me he's seeing other people.
  

I think that's enough for now. I'm getting depressed just typing these words out. I am the girl who goes on bad dates. And it's great! Know why? It gives me something to blog about.

Also while I'm in New York going on bad dates one of my best friends from home just got engaged. And I introduced them. Lovely. Happy for her. Really.