A.D.D. Alex, the bond trader: I saw his picture online and thought he was really cute, so I was excited when he emailed me asking for a date. I couldn’t figure out why someone so handsome/gainfully employed/seemingly normal hadn’t been snatched up already – then I found out.
We met at a place in the East Village (I was staying in the city all weekend) and when I got to the restaurant, he told me we should relocate because there was a 30 minute wait. Fine. So we walked to another place a few blocks away and sat down. After having menus and waters brought to us, he said the place was too loud and that he wanted to move AGAIN, so we (or rather I) apologized to the waiter and left in embarrassment.
Two more (yes two!) places later we finally settled on chill spot and ordered food. I really wanted to leave by this point, but I was trying to be a good sport.
While eating, he got a piece of food stuck in his teeth right in the front and it was really grossing me out. I didn’t feel comfortable enough to tell him, so I just kept quiet and tried to keep staring at his eyes and concentrate on not looking down. *Miss Wingman note: this must be what it’s like for guys to avoid staring at obvious cleavage, no?
Not only did he eat like a slob, but then he told me that he needed to find a new apartment… because he was still living with his ex. What?! I almost didn’t hear him say it because I was so distracted by the food in his teeth, but when I asked him he said they’d just broken up a month ago and he was trying to find a new place to live. WTF!
Apparently he didn’t think it was strange at all, nor did he feel the need to ask me anything about myself other than saying “Oh, so you like…work with poor people?” after I said I was a counselor for troubled youth. That was about all I could take. I suggested we pay our bill, I wanted out.
But the kicker was when the check came and he started adding up what I owed (he should’ve paid ME just to have endured all that) and then left the waitress a horrible tip. When we walked outside to say our goodbyes, I pulled back when he tried to kiss me. Apparently surprised, he shot back, “What, you think you’re too good for me? Psssht, fine, I can find way hotter girls than you on [the site].”
I didn’t say anything at first, just pivoted and walked away. But then I couldn’t help myself, so I turned and yelled back in his direction “And I can find guys without nasty food stuck in their teeth on there too! Seriously, that sh*t’s gross, check a mirror.” Needless to say, that was the last we saw of each other (but I did get some sidewalk applause).
Monica: Wow. There’s nothing I could say to that guy that you didn’t already take care of yourself. Well done (and thanks for making me feel better about being single). The moral of the story, guys? If you’re basically still mid-breakup, don’t tell us – and don’t ask us out yet, either. Also, don’t make us play musical bars, don’t nickel and dime us, and for the love of God, please bring floss.
Got a horror story to share? Send it on over: firstname.lastname@example.org. All names have been changed to protect the innocent (unless someone’s really terrible, in which case public mockery is warranted) Game on.