The other night I was out to eat with my boo. Sorry in advance for saying “my boo”. And rather than pay attention to my own relationship, I was listening to an awkward date that was going on at the table next to us. Well, “awkward” is probably the wrong word to use because it wasn’t really that awkward. The guy on this date was completely content with being a social weirdo. And the girl looked like she wanted to break her wine glass and stab her eardrums with the stem. But I’ll get to that in a minute. I want to tell you what this asshat was wearing. He was sporting denim jeans with grass stains, and a striped dress shirt tucked in. But I got the vibe that the grass stains weren’t real. I think this guy bought the pants with the grass stains. You know how Abercrombie and Fitch sells jeans with paint splattered all over them? These particular jeans looked like the grass stains were put on them on purpose. How do I know? Because the grass stains were o the pockets. How do you get grass stains on your pockets and nowhere else? Even if you’re an outdoor enthusiast or a woodsman or athlete or hippie, how are the grass stains on the pockets but not the knees? I just don’t buy it.
So ANYWAYS, this guy not only had God awful attire, but he also had a God awful personality. And he wouldn’t shut the fuck up. He was just talking, talking, talking, asking the girl no questions. Okay guys, if you’re on a first date (I assume this was their first because they didn’t seem comfortable and I’m just a genius and know these things), you should be asking the girl questions about herself. Because that’s what girls want, to talk about themselves. I mean come on guys, we have already taken the effort to Google you and searched PatriotLedger.com to make sure you’re legit. If you made it that far, then you go on the date and then you ask her questions. Don’t get me wrong, girls want to ask questions about you and hear you talk, too. But don’t talk about yourself for 3 goddamn hours while your date orders 78 vodka soda waters to drown you out. The worst part is, this girl on the date I was rubbernecking on was dead sober. See that water on the table? There isn’t even ice in that water to crunch on to keep yourself entertained. Yeah…Like, maybe if this guy did something really cool for a living (like he got paid to be @QuincyTweets and keep his identity top secret), or if he had good stories (like my story from yesterday about how I’m Beyonce), but he didn’t. He was F’ing talking about the job market. Okay guy, the job market sucks. That’s obviously why you can’t afford new grass-stainless pants. Stop talking about things we already know. Maybe replace the boring bullshit with a compliment. This guy (pictured above in the photo upload courtesy of yours truly) could have been like, “Girl, those Old Navy flip flops bring out your big brown eyes” or “That teal beach dress brings out your tig o’ bitties”. Literally this girl was just saying “Uh huh.” in the most monotone voice. Joke around. Remember, if you can make a girl laugh, you can make her do anything (big thanks to Marilyn Monroe on that quote, now women who are easily entertained are expected to at least round 2nd base based on giggle currency). This guy I was eavesdropping on during my own date obviously had no idea, was completely egocentric. Like guy, you’re not Holden Caulfield. You can’t pull off the self centered, young adult angst. You’re like 26, you have no wisdom. I went to the bathroom when I realized I had been holding my pee in after drinking 2 sangrias while I listened, and the chick he was with came in right after me. I wanted to break the window open for this poor girl, and give her 10 fingers (Old Navy flip flops would hurt my hands less than heels, so that’s a plus), and tell her to run until she reached the other side of Hancock Street. The change her number. But, there was no window in this bathroom. So I just washed my hands and went back to my date, where I found my boyfriend at the table downing a scorpion bowl. Probably because I was boring him.