The time I almost snuck out the back
Red State Blue Balls #10
C was late to lunch, which was not the first-date dealbreaker I might otherwise have considered it. It was raining, and I’d had to ditch my last-minute plan to ride my Vespa.
Lunch is on me, he texted.
I waited for him by the entrance. When he arrived we chose a table, and then he went back to the counter alone to order for us. He was cute and a decade younger than me. If his profile pictures were to be believed, he spent a lot of time at the gym.
But once C returned to the table and sat down, I realized there was a problem: C talked exclusively about himself. My memory of the “conversation” is a blur of grandstanding about his conquests in real estate development, where he lived, and how well-traveled he was.
Eventually he paused his monologue, seeming to remember that this was a date, not a keynote presentation. “But what about you?” he asked. “Tell me about you.”
Finally, I thought to myself. But before I could say a word, he cut in again. “I mean I already know you love to read, run, and roller skate.” He continued listing the things he’d gleaned from my dating app profile. The man was answering his own question.