Thursday, November 7, 2019

The worst date I've ever been on: Part 5 and 6

Chapter 5
The Date, Part 1

The day of the date came. I hadn't heard from him all day, so I honestly had no idea what movie we were seeing, what time we were going at, if I should eat dinner, etc.

I sat at home, doing the dishes, when the phone rang.

"Hey," he said. "I'll be by in like, an hour to pick you up. Okay?"

"Okay," I said, hiding my annoyance.

I really like my day planned out in advance, so this really annoyed me.

"And I was thinking, what if we went on a hike instead of seeing a movie?"

I looked down at my outfit. I had just gotten home from work, where I dressed professionally. The rest of my clothing was packed, because I was moving back down to college in a couple of days.

Not to mention that being alone in nature with this guy was far too sketchy for me, especially by how angry my gut got at me when he first asked me out.

". . . I'd rather do a movie."

"But come on! The sunset will be really pretty!" he said.

"I'm in a skirt and flats," I explained.

"It's not a hike! It's a nature walk!"

"No," I said, finally learning to stand my ground.

"Ugh, fine," he said sourly. "I'll see you soon."

I hung up the phone and gripped the edge of the sink, pleading to God to give me strength.

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The hour had passed, and my phone rang again.

"Hey, I can't find your house," he said.

I wasn't too surprised. I was staying at my parents house, which is on kind of an obscure street. I gave him directions to their street and said, "I'm at the house with the blue car in the driveway."

". . . I don't see a blue car . . ." he said.

"Okay, what street are you on?" I asked, assuming he had to be on the wrong one.

"No, I'm on the right street, I just don't see a blue car."

I literally put my head down on the counter.

"Well, I don't know what to tell you, cause my car is blue," I sighed into the phone.

"Okay, well, I think I'm here. You can come out," he said.

"Okay."

I said another prayer to God as I cursed myself for getting myself into this situation.

I walked outside, and he stood next to his car.

"I can see now that you car is blue," he said. "But it's so dirty it looks gray."

"Uh huh," I sighed, and he went over to the passengers side door to open it for me.

. . . and the car alarm went off as he did so.

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He frantically grabbed for his keys, silencing the alarm, and opening the door for me.

And with that, we were off.

We drove past a Korean restaurant.

"Man, that's the best Korean restaurant I've ever been to. We should go sometime," he said.

"Oh, I don't really like Korean food," I said.

"That's cause you haven't had good, authentic Korean food," he corrected me. "Anyone who doesn't like Korean food just hasn't had the right kind."

"No, I've had authentic Korean food —"

"No," he interrupted. "You haven't, else you would've liked it."

And with that, all the patience that had gotten me this far with him, was gone.

And.

I.

Lost it.

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"I HAVE BEEN TO KOREA," I snapped. "I HAVE HAD AUTHENTIC KOREAN FOOD, AND I DIDN'T LIKE IT."

". . .oh. . ."

(Okay, look. I've been to the Korea airport, where I had a smoothie, and I flew on Korean Airlines, where I had Korean airplane food. But I don't like Korean food, and I wasn't about to let him diminish my opinion again.)

It's like every ounce of patience I had with this kid left my body. I was done. I was so done dealing with him.

. . . but we were 5 minutes into the date.

So I mustered what little strength I had left and put it towards being polite.

He was silent for the next few minutes.

"So, how was work?" I asked.

"Ugh, horrible. I had to install insulation into a wall today," he said.

"Oh man, I've done that before, and it was awful. I'm sorry,"

"No, you don't even get it," he corrected me . . . again. "You haven't had to do it in 90 degree whether like I had to!"

"No, I actually did —,"

"And you haven't had to do it in the middle of the day when it's the hottest —," he interrupted me . . . again.

My turn to interrupt.

"YES I HAVE. I HAVE DONE IT IN THE HEAT OF THE DAY, IN 90 DEGREE WHETHER, PLUS HUMIDITY," I snapped once again.

" . . . oh . . ."

The movie theater couldn't come fast enough.

. . . but instead of pulling into the movie theater, he pulled into a candy store.

Which, alright, I'm chill with. I had been to this store before. I knew I liked it, and I knew exactly what I wanted.

"So, what would you like?" Jacob asked as we walked inside.

"Dark chocolate covered almonds," I replied.

"No, I think you should try this," he said, pointing at some sort of marshmallow thing.

"No, I don't like marshmallows. I wont like those."

"Oh, but you'll like this," he insisted, and ordered two before I could say anything else.

As he ordered them, he looked at the cashier and said, ". . . why aren't you wearing a uniform?"

"Oh, we don't actually need to wear a uniform here," the cashier responded.

Jacob scowled and said, "Well, at the other location I go to, they wear uniforms."

The guy looked mortified, and just shrugged.

"HEY MAN I LIKE YOUR SHIRT," I yelled, trying to ease the tension.

Jacob walked around, looking at the candy that was displayed.

"Do you have [certain treat I can no longer remember]?" he asked the cashier.



"No, we don't carry that here, sorry," replied the cashier.

"What?!" he said, "They carry it at the other location."

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I can't remember what the cashier said in response to this, but I was CRINGING.

Jacob came back up to me and said, "What else do you want?"

"Dark chocolate covered almonds."

"No, I think you should try this," he said, pointing to some caramel, pretzel thing.

"That doesn't look good to me. I just want my dark chocolate covered almonds," I said.

"No, you'll like it. It's really good," he said.

"You can get them, but I'm not gonna eat it," I said . . . . . . . and he ordered two.

Jacob smiled at me as if he had just done the nicest thing ever and said, "Anything else?"

"Dark. Chocolate. Covered. Almonds."

"But that's so boring," he exclaimed.

Ah! Good! Another insult!

I'm 90 percent sure I rolled my eyes.

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I walked up to the cashier and asked for my stupid dark chocolate covered almonds.

Jacob paid for the sweets, and we began walking over to the movie theater.

"This date is turning out to be more expensive than I planned," he said, then looked at me. "But you're worth it."

GUYS. I CANNOT EXPRESS TO YOU HOW ANNOYED I WAS.

HE HAD LITERALLY JUST BOUGHT UNNECESSARY FOOD THAT I TOLD HIM I DIDN'T WANT. AND THEN HE TALKS ABOUT HOW EXPENSIVE IT IS?! I'M SURE HE WAS TRYING TO IMPRESS ME, BUT I WAS NOT IMPRESSED. I WAS JUST ANNOYED.

We walked into the movie theater and sat down. He handed me the marshmallow and the pretzel thing he had bought for me after I said I wouldn't like them. I took a bite of each, then said, "You can finish mine. I don't like them."

"Then why did I bother buying them?!" he said.

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Oh, man, I was about ready to scream.

But the movie was starting, so I munched on my dark chocolate covered almonds instead.

Chapter 6
The Date: Part II

I didn't particularly enjoy the movie. All my friends who have seen it like it, so I'm left to assume I don't like it because I was sitting next to Mr. dark-chocolate-covered-almonds-are-boring-and-your-opinions-are-stupid the entire time.

The movie finished, and I was grateful he hadn't tried to pull a move on me. As the credits rolled, a remix of a song by The Beatles began to play. Being the huge Beatles fan I am, I began to sing quietly along.

"I don't recognize this song," Jacob said.

"The original is by The Beatles," I said.

"Oh, I hate The Beatles."

It took everything within my power not to call him, or his opinion, stupid (like he had done to me SO MANY TIMES).

He began driving me back to my house, and the one-upping stories began.

Now, here's the thing. Usually, with one-uppers, I let them win. I don't care. They can think they're better than me. It's fine.

But with Jacob?

Oh, I was not about to let that happen.

And here's the thing: 90% of the time, when he wanted to one-up me, I was just trying to relate to him! Ugh, it was so annoying.

Anyway.

I don't know how we got started on the topic, but I mentioned that, after I had gotten back from my religious mission, I was very tired all the time.

"You don't even know," he said, which seemed to be one of his favorite phrases. Because I, apparently, knew nothing. "Try having a 16 hour flight back from Korea."

". . . I literally did that—,"

"No, your flight was like, 4 hours."

Again, all patience I had previously had with this kid was GONE, and I snapped, "I LITERALLY TRAVELED FOR 23 HOURS COMING BACK FROM SINGAPORE."

". . .oh. . ." he said. "Well, I traveled for longer than that coming back from Australia."

I can't remember how I responded to that, but then he said, "You don't even know. I came back from Australia when it was winter here and summer there."

"I LITERALLY DID THE SAME THING. I WENT TO NEW ZEALAND IN JANUARY AND CAME BACK WHEN IT WAS STILL WINTER."

That was a lie. I came back in April. But I just wanted to one-up him because he had killed all patience in my body.

. . . I think I still haven't regained all the patience I had before this date.

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Anyway, we finally get to my house, and he walks me to my door. At some point, we had begun talking about school, and how he was in various science classes.

"I'm a feminist, but," he said as we walked to my door, and I knew this was gonna be good. "Women just aren't as good at math and science as men are. Like the girls in my science class just aren't as good as the men are.

"But I'm a feminist," he reassured me.

"Mmmmmm," I responded.

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All my energy was gone. I knew I couldn't convince this guy otherwise. His arrogance made him untouchable to reality and me going on a feminist tangent wasn't going to pop his balloon brain.

I unlocked the door.

"Okay, well, I'll see you on Sunday—."

And he kept talking.

And talking.

And talking.

And talking.

I literally had the door open.

I was literally standing inside.

I WAS LITERALLY SLOWLY CLOSING THE DOOR IN HIS FACE.

AND HE JUST. KEPT. TALKING.



I don't even remember what it was about now.

I probably wasn't even listening.

Finally, with the door open half an inch, I said, "Okay I'm gonna go bye."

And closed the door.
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Now, this may be the end of the date, but it wasn't the end of my interactions with him.

The next blog post will cover the aftermath, and what this experience taught me.

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