Blindsided by a Bad Blind Date

Today's post was written by a guest.  Her name is Kim Ashworth and I present her Blindsided by a Bad Blind Date.  I don't know  about you, but I can TOTALLY relate!

I have a tendency to fall into long-term relationships, only for them to end 2 to 3 years later when I've grown bored and disappointed with the situation.  The last year of those relationships are always wrought with feelings of inadequacy--not on my part of course, but on my lacking counterpart. But due to the relationship's comfort and ease, it always takes me a awhile to get out. You know, like a year, so by the time that happens, I'm bitter and in need of some super sexy time and attention

However, no matter what I do, the first few months are always comprised of miserable dates. It's like the past relationship years have suddenly clouded my dating judgment and I can't discern the trash from the mediocre.

While a lot of terrible dates come to mind, there is one that has always stood out across the years.

I was 26 and had just gotten out of a 3 year relationship, one that I had initially thought would end in marriage, but clearly didn't. I was going on a rampage, sleeping with randoms, online dating and trying to meet anyone I possibly could. Looking back, I don't know why, I guess I was just trying to fill a void. You know how those things go.

Finally, I had a friend say he wanted to set me up on a blind date. Truthfully, those aren't really my thing, but I thought,"why not?" I asked him a few questions about the man...what does he do? How old is he? What is he like?

His answers were vague. He mentioned something about working for an insurance company, that he was 28 and was a fun guy. I said ok

He gave the mystery man my number and he began texting. His texts were boring and filled with grammatical errors. I should have known right then that it wasn't worth my time, but I went along with it anyway. After a few days of texting, he proposed we meet up for a drink one night and I agreed. I let him suggest the place, but much to my dismay, he picked a seedy dive bar, where old men in tank tops spent their time chain-smoking and drinking $1 beer.  Real classy. I was already wishing I hadn't agreed to this.

The night of, I got there 5 minutes late. The mystery man was no where to be seen, so I sauntered up to the dusky bar, sat down as far away from the old men as I could and ordered a water.  The bar was nothing short of disgusting. Five minutes went by and I considered leaving. When it hit ten, I got up and was about to walk out and when, of course, he showed up.

He had one thing going for him: he was attractive.

I turned around and we grabbed a table in the corner. He instantly ordered me a beer; didn't ask, just did it. I don't like beer. Great.

It took him all of 2 minutes to begin word vomitting. Telling me about his harsh upbringing, his desire to be an artist but not having enough self-esteem to do so, and his inability to maintain relationships. The man was a train wreck-- a train wreck that didn't know how to stop talking about himself.

It was like once he started talking, he couldn't stop. The rambling went on and on. I merely served as a sounding board for him and nodded along while thinking about my grocery list.

I tried to interject with comments about myself, but he wasn't having it. He just turned it back around on himself, while he pounded beers. He started to get really honest by the time he hit is fourth beer; I was still on my first. That's when he went off on his previous girlfriends, telling me how they lacked creative vision, were dumb and boring in bed. I instantly thought the same of him.  Then came the unwanted sex stories, which I think were his attempt to seduce me. I'm still a little unclear of his intentions.

He told me of his wild threesomes, his interactions with prostitutes , his extensive Adam and Eve sex toy collection collection and his man on man experience. I just sat there, wide eyed and utterly confused. I had said exactly 12 words at this point and it had been an hour. I stared awkwardly into my beer, which was half-full with liquid and half-empty with dating potential.

And then suddenly, it stopped. His mouth stopped moving. His eyes stopped penetrating my soul and his beer was empty. I looked up at him, wondering if I could finally speak, but before I could open my mouth, he said, "so my mom's out of town for the week, do you want to come back to my place?

"Wait, you still live with your mother?"

He eagerly said yes like it wasn't a MAJOR turn off.

I quickly grabbed my purse and said, "I'm sorry, I just can't date someone who still lives at home." and walked out. He just sat there flabbergasted as he clearly thought he had just spit impeccable game at me for the past hour.

I didn't really care too much about his living situation. It wasn't ideal, but wasn't a deal breaker. Really, it was the fact that he ordered a beer for me and spent 60 whole minutes telling me about every horrible aspect of his life. These are things I like to discover a year or so down the road, not the first hour.

Thanks, but no thanks.

Amen Sister, Amen - Kathy