Miss G.'s Story: Adventures in Date Sitting

The first, but, not the worst dating horror story I have to tell.

I was at a Christmas party in a loft downtown a few years back, when a tall, artsy, good-looking guy sidled up beside me under the Christmas tree and began to chat me up. I was mildly interested. He seemed real and down to earth enough. He told me he drew a cat comic for a local jazz magazine, which peaked my interest and lightened his rather serious seeming demeanor. I don't normally care what people do for a living, but I love drawing, I love jazz, and I love cats...sold. Before leaving, he asked if I would like to go for coffee with him sometime. I agreed.

Two days later (record time for LA), he called and asked me if instead of coffee, I'd like to go to a gallery that his friend was showing at. Of course! Like I said, I like art. One day later, he called and asked if I also liked noodles, and would I like to do that too. Um, ok guy. The day arrived. He called and asked if I could pick him up because he didn't have a car. Now, I am happy to oblige, really, I am quite an easy going person ....until... he told me he lived downtown and the gallery was in West Hollywood. Ok, now... I am supposed to go from my house in Silverlake to pick him up from downtown, drive to West Hollywood, and then back to Little Tokyo for noodles and then, he adds later, a party in Hollywood? Are you serious? Four words ran through my head - son.of.a.bitch. Lots of red flags popped up and I of course brushed them away because I was not yet told that a bunch of red flags does not mean it's a parade (thanks Kelley). I express irritation. A LOT of irritation. I do not need this date.

Somehow, this guy played on my emotions and swindled me into going along with the date, saying that he'd pay for parking and that we'd get into the gallery free. I swear I asked my best friend if I should cancel at least five times. I am not one for regret though, and what did I have to lose? So, I picked him up. He lived in a transient hotel downtown and his room was adorned with velvet wallpaper. My first thought was ...vampire (but not in a good way).

Somehow, I ended up paying for parking, and he didn't end up getting us into the gallery for free, so he paid. Then he paid for a drink each for us. Note, this all adds up to around 20 bucks. The art was so-so and there was too much going on for much dialogue between us. Soon, I begrudgingly took us back downtown to the Little Tokyo area and we sat down in a crowded noodle shop. I am still optimistic that the noodles will be good and that we will have interesting conversation. As I now know all to well about LA men, I was about to endure over an hour of talk all about him, him, him. Some guys brag about their job, what they like, where they've been, who they know... some go on incessantly about their childhoods or past relationships. Some don't even have conversations, they just quote movies and make jokes. Whatever the case....ew. This one, went on and on about his childhood, and how he found out his dad was gay. This was when he started crying. Did I mention he'd only had one drink? I consoled him for at least 30 minutes, barely able to eat and desperately wanting the check. Finally it came. The bill was, I think $18. Now, I did not expect him to pay for me at this point. I just wanted to go home. Not only did he not pay for me, but he couldn't even cover his own half. Are you kidding, you ask? I wish. In this moment, I really wish I was the bitch some people want me to be. I think of going to the bathroom and ditching him. I think of sliding my bowl of noodles across the table and onto his lap. I think of just getting up and walking away. Instead, I end up resentfully paying. I also tell him I am not up for going to the party anymore. Now, dear readers, please be clear... if he didn't have that much money, I was totally fine with that...but don't make such an elaborate date and only take $25 out with you. I would have been thrilled with just a cup of coffee that I paid for myself.

After screeching to a halt in front of his door, he not only tried to make out with me, but also tried to get me to come up to his lair for some "sherry." HE apparently thought the date was going well. Somehow I got him to leave without actually having to kick him repeatedly. He continued to call me for two weeks to try to get another date and give my money back though. I did not return the calls.