Well, I guess I should be the one to break the ice for this new section. Time for the tale of my first date, post six year relationship.
My date for the evening was the friend of a co-worker, we met up for Korean BBQ. First off, his nails were longer than what is appropriate for a man to ever, ever have. Um… gross. After we ordered drinks, it was time to order food. Without asking me what I wanted to eat, he ordered for me. Okay… well, maybe I didn’t want the fucking beef. Maybe I wanted some damn fish.
Oh well…after this somewhat important indiscretion, my date proceeded to tell that as an Asian woman, how I should serve him. Fuck off. If you tell me how I should hold the tongs again, I will drill them into your eye sockets and grill your eyeballs for dinner.
With hatred beginning to brew in my brain, the raw beef arrived. My reverse romeo decided he’d impress me with his cooking skills, but instead of cooking the beef this guy burnt it to a crisp. Hellloooooo! Its beef, it needs to be a little pink and bloody. Strike 3 already? And we barely started our dinner…
As I tried to chew through my overcooked beef, my more-terrible-by-the-minute-date thought he’d impress me by telling me about his career in textile importing. Except, instead of mentioning anything cool (is there anything cool about being a textile importer?), my lame duck of a date just told me about paperwork. At that point, I should have taken an Ambien — pretty much the same thing right?
After downing 5 drinks, I had to leave. Before we left, my Mr. Rodgers sweater date made of us use anti-bacterial before shaking hands. Um, bonus points for cleanliness? At least he didn’t try to go in for a kiss, because man…that would have been an embarrassing rejection.
Later on that night I proceeded to drink excessively and dance to soul music at a random bar. Much, much, much more fun.
Did you have a horrible but hilarious tale of your own miserable dating life? Email tingting@blaqbook.com
