Double Dates (Meaning TWO…)

So I got home from work yesterday and plopped my butt on the couch.  I didn’t really feel like going on this date, but also didn’t feel rude enough to cancel at the last-minute.  V walks in and sits down with me.  We’re both swiping away at Tinder, and I say,

“I wonder if we have any of the same matches?”

So we both pull up all of our matches and we’re trying to compare, when I decided this game would be way more fun with a bottle of wine.  So it turned into:

“Do you have a Chris?”

“Go Fish.  Drink.”

“Do you have an Evan?”

“Go Fish.  Drink.”

“Do you have a Tom?”

“Yes!”

“Does he have a glass of whiskey in his hand??”

“Yes!!”

“Let me see!”

“Nope, two different Toms with glasses of whiskey in their hands.  Go fish.”

Brie walks in shortly after and sees V with a glass of wine, and asks, “Are we still going for a walk?”

V says, “Well I don’t really WANT to…”

So the game continues until its time for me to leave.

I decide to walk because I still haven’t caught onto the fact that nobody in this town walks places or takes public transportation.  When I told my roommate T, I was taking the bus downtown the other night she goes, “What???”  followed by, “You’re so funny.”  It was $2.25!!!  And hassle free!  I loved it!  Anyway… off topic.

I called Emitch on my walk and she asks, “How far is the place?”

“Eh, like a mile and a half?”

“WHAT??!  Why are you walking there?  You’re going to be a disgusting sweaty mess by the time you get there.”

“No, it’s not hot here when the sun goes down.  I’m actually thinking about putting my jacket on.”

“Ok.”

Flash forward, I was LATE (obvi) so I broke into a speed walk towards the end and I WAS a sweaty mess by the time I arrived.  The dude was what I expected, looks-wise.  He was kinda little, but good-looking.  But, like too put-together, good-looking.  I don’t think my brother reads these posts, but if he did he’d come and slap me, because this guy was a “Lax-Bro” and my brother gave me a strict “no dating lacrosse players” rule.  It’s basically his only rule.  And this guy had a photo of himself PLAYING lacrosse as one of his OkCupid profile pics, so I felt a little guilty agreeing to go out with him.  Which, let’s address here.  He played lacrosse in COLLEGE… and he’s 33, so I’m not the best at math, but that was ummm…. a really long time ago.  And it came up in conversation at least three times.  Like we actually had a side conversation ABOUT lacrosse, which isn’t even a sport I’ve ever cared about.

But in any case, he was nice, he had a job, he had his shit together, and he was a gentleman.  I wasn’t feeling it though.  And I agreed to a second drink, but didn’t really want it.  And I was texting on the side in the bathroom (I know, bitchy move), but some other guy who knew I was on a date wanted to meet up afterwards, and my sister said she’d pick me up after school and take me somewhere else, so these bathroom breaks were needed for coordination purposes.  Well, and because I had to pee.  Obvi.

So we’re sitting, chatting, and I realized I didn’t even know his last name (I actually kinda forgot his first name too because I never saved it in my phone).  So I pulled a slick move and scrolled to his first text to see what his name was.  It was what I would have guessed, so I felt a LITTLE better about myself.  Then I asked for his last name.  He told me.  Then he says, “It’s Spanish… well Mexican.”

“HAHAHAHHA you’re Mexican?!  I have to tell my sister!”

Which gives me another excuse to text.  She had just asked me that day why all the guys she meets are Mexican, and I never meet any.  So I had to notify her immediately.

Lax-Bro then says, “Is this strictly for your phone, or are you going to google me when you get home?”

“I’m totally going to google you.”

“Well, I guess I should warn you about something then…”

Ohhh geez… here we go….

“A couple of years ago, another guy who came from Mexico has the same exact first and last name… He moved up to Oregon…. and I guess he shot a few people…. soooo… when you google my name there’s a lot of news articles about that…”

“OMG!  You’re a murderer?!?!”

“Not me… just a guy with the same name…”

That’s it.  I was convinced.  He’s a murderer.  It’s not a common name.  At all.  And it was a good way out of this date.  I don’t date murderers.

I told him my sister was going to pick me up on her way back from school, which in my opinion, took way too long.  And she wanted to see him.  So she parked the car and came in.  She met him for about 2 minutes, then I told him it was time for us to go. So we said our goodbyes and pretended to go home, but went to a bar down the street to meet the other guy.

Carissa said, “ew” and “absolutely not” about the Lax-Bro.  Second guy walks in, says hello and then goes to the bar to get a drink and she says, “much better than the last one.”

So he comes up to the table and asks, “So how was your first date of the night?”

“It was ok.  He was a nice guy.  Carissa didn’t like him.”

“What was wrong with him?”

Carissa makes a motion near her eyeballs and said, “He had really creepy eyes.”

[Murderer].

Second date shrugs, looks at Carissa and says, “So do you go on all of her dates?”

“Pretty much…”

The guy was a Jew.  I personally have nothing against dating Jews, but from past experience (not really my own experience), I know that their mothers never like them dating or marrying non-Jews, so I feel like it’s kinda a waste of time.  I obviously told him this.  He said his mother is like the one from “Mean Girls…” I wasn’t sure how to take that.  I think I’d be frightened of her.

The three of us are sitting at a table, and some guy I’ve never seen before comes up and says, “Are you Court?”

I’m like… “Ummm.. yeah?”

He says, “Were you at a Yelp event downtown on Tuesday night, wearing a name-tag and sitting at the bar with one of your girlfriends?”

“Ummmm yeahhh….”

“I was the server for the tables!  I went like THIS all night!”  (he puts his arm straight up in the air, imitating a server with a tray on his hand).

Omg…. how is he recognizing me right now?  And you should have seen the Jew’s face, he was so confused by this encounter.

Then the server says, “You wrote us up an awesome review!”

“You read my review????”

“Yeah, it was awesome.  And I’m so glad you called out that obnoxious woman who was giving the bartender a hard time!  She was the WORST!”

“You saw that happen too?????”

“Yeah, I was standing right next to you.”

I am so oblivious.

The Jew was very confused.  Even after I tried to explain.  But he let it go.  He asked if Lax-Bro had sent me a follow-up text, and I told him no.  He left shortly after because he had to let his dog out, and also because he was probably freaked out.  He sent me a text a few minutes after, saying the only reason he was texting was because he felt bad that the other guy didn’t text me.  Gee, thanks.

He then admitted we are probably the worst match ever, but followed it up by saying we should get together again, possibly Sunday to discuss it further.  Dudes are so confusing.

Carissa’s Mexican lover, Tonto came out and met us, WITHOUT any friends… always solo… Never any love for me.  Worst wingman ever.  We counted him as our third date for the night anyway, then he drove us home.

Just another Thursday night.

And since it’s finally Friday and I LOL’ed  (thanks Lisa)…. I will leave you with this:

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xoxo

Gossip Girl

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