The Dating Disasters Link Up has finally arrived!
Here's the deal: Link up anything dating-related (and it doesn't have to be current--talking to you married ladies out there). Also, it'd be cool if you followed the hosts (me and Erin of Two Thirds Hazel) and included the following button to spread the awkward action to all of blogland! No pressure.
<div align="center"><a href="http://www.onetonothin.com" title="One to Nothin"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v331/kensiekins/flirtingwithdisastersmall.jpg" alt="One to Nothin" style="border:none;" /></a></div>
There hasn't been a whole lot of "dating" per se going on around these parts lately, but there has been a lot of getting-hit-on-in-weird-ways, and it's getting out of hand. So I don't actually have an epic dating disaster to share with you, but I'd like to say that it's because I've been avoiding the likes of these guys...
Glasses and his little toady seemed nice enough as they swooped us up on the way out the door of my friend's new apartment, saved a parking spot for me with construction cones and proceeded to buy us drinks, more drinks and a round of shots (even for the other 12 guys standing around us in this sausage fest of a bar). Things got complicated, however, when my friend started talking to a very attractive specimen and so I tried to wingman it up for her by talking to his friend. Next thing I know, Glasses grabs my swivel chair and spins me around to face him. Then he pulls me onto the dance floor where there is not a soul dancing except for two Michael Jackson impersonators and starts straight up ballroom dancing with me. And let's be clear, I do not know how to ballroom dance. Luckily his phone was dead so he couldn't even try to get my number. I did, however, find his and the toady's business cards in my wallet and a note on my phone with his actual name on it.
Baja Fresh Boy
I had just sat down at an outside table for my first-ever Baja Fresh experience, I was about to run a train on my burrito bowl when a dude wearing a jumpsuit of sorts walked over and said, "I'm way too cute for you to be sitting here alone." *crickets* "That was a good one right?! Can I sit down and have a mini five-minute date with you?" Meanwhile his two guy friends sitting at a table a couple feet away are cringing and saying things like, "Dude, you're gonna get shut down.." and "This is rough.." And I'm all, "So.. you're going to watch me eat..?" Eventually he gets out a receipt and a Sharpie and places it in front of me asking for my number and nervously laughing saying, "You're not going to give it to me, are you?" To which I replied, "How about you give me your number?" So thank you, Baja Fresh Boy, I will be adding that slip of paper into the collection I've started in the bowl where we keep the mailbox key, because BART Boy's number is in there too.
Barry from BART
Apparently some amateur porn was recently filmed on BART, so I guess I shouldn't have been surprised by a strange romantic gesture on this public transit (which I briefly mentioned here), but BART Boy came out of nowhere. I rode the train for about an hour not knowing he was behind me all along (sounds way more romantic than it was, trust me). It was a few minutes before his stop that he decided to introduce himself, and my first thought was that this man dressed in a business suit on a Saturday night was going to try selling me life insurance. Instead he asked if he could give me his number and handed me a folded up piece of notebook paper. No "what do you do for a living?" or "What's your sign?" just right to the point. The only problem with "right to the point" is when you time it poorly and the doors don't open for a good 30-40 excruciating seconds that neither of us tried to fill. Into the basket you go.
Okay, these guys had the right idea as far as pickup lines go, and by that I mean.. they could've said anything because they all had accents. The first group (yes, there were two groups of foreigners in one night) consisted of men from England, Scotland and Portugal. These guys simply said, "Where are you ladies off to?" so we went to a bar with them and discussed the jukebox and the random Christmas tree adorning the loft over ridiculously strong whiskey drinks. Once the bar closed, we stood outside as one of them sprayed my pepper spray on his hand and proceeded to lick it.. at this point my friend and I got distracted by two Irish boys knocking on the window and offering us pizza, so we hung out with them the rest of the night playing (and cheating at) rock, paper, scissors to prove who was better at being best friends, us or them, and then us laughing hysterically because "guy with a point" sounds like "gay with a pint" when Irishmen say it.
So at the end of the day, the lessons ladies can take away from this are: always get souvenirs from creepers who hit on you (a piece of paper is way more fun than a new contact in your phone), public transit and lunch breaks are a great time to hide from dudes on the prowl and try not to be a phenomenal dancer when you're not interested in the dude making you dance with him.
As for the fellas: The quickest way to a woman's heart is through your accent and her desperate need for drunk pizza. Also, time the exit right! It's way more mysterious, intriguing and less awkward that way.