The Non-Date – Survived by A

WHO: Someone we will call John Doe, an old friend of my ex-husband

WHAT: NOT a date. Or so I thought. I told Sarah about this non-date before I went and she said, “Yeah, that is definitely a date.” She might have been right.

WHEN: Summer 2015

WHERE: A local bar on Phinney

WHY: Because he reached out to me after I had recently separated from my husband of 14 years. I thought it was nice to hear from an old friend who was technically friends with my ex.  And apparently because I am totally clueless that most guys don’t want to just be my “friend”.

THE NON-DATE
I had recently separated from my husband of many years and had been embracing all opportunities to connect with old and new friends. This guy John had reached out to me, and I thought it was nice that a friend of my ex still wanted to be friends with me. I didn’t want to have to divide our friends like we did with our kitchen utensils when we split.

So I went. I suggested we get a beer, because…well…that’s what I do with friends. John has always been a “special” friend of ours. He is in his early 30s but has never had a real job, lives with his parents, has no driver’s license because he’s had too many DUIs, and he definitely called me from his parents’ land line because they are “assholes” and took his cell phone from him.  Painting the picture of a real winner here. Thus my stance on the fact that this is ABSOLUTELY NOT A DATE!!!  

So why would I even go have a beer with this loser?  Well this is a guy I’ve put up with for years despite all of the above because he’s a nice person and we’ve been friends for 15 years. At least that is what I kept trying to tell myself. I was just being an accepting and non-judgmental person, right?

I plan to meet with him after work on a sunny weekday. He asks me to pick him up. I agreed, not exactly surprised that he didn’t have a car or any means of getting around. We go to the bar and each order a beer. I start out by asking him if he’s seen my ex recently because they had been friends for years and I was curious to know how my ex was doing. He told me he hadn’t seen him and had no intention of ever seeing him again because he’s a “bad influence.” I know my ex is my ex for many reasons, but a bad influence on THIS guy?  Not a chance.  He makes plenty of his own poor life decisions on his own.

This was my first red flag.

The waitress brings our beers and I continue with the small talk. He then tells me that he is trying not to drink any more. Um… ok. Why would you agree to go get a beer with me if you’re trying to be sober?

I felt like a douchebag for taking an alcoholic out for beers.  But oh well.

We proceeded to drink our beers and slowly some very uncomfortable compliments start flying my way. He starts with things like “You look nice today,” and “I like your dress.” Ok, simple enough. I say “thank you” and continue with the small talk.  And then it continues.  He professes his love for me and tells me how attracted he is to me. He goes on to compliment my earrings, my purse, and other things that don’t really deserve any kind of compliment.  

It’s getting awkward.

The compliment that really put me over the top was, “Wow, you have really nice wrists.” Seriously? My wrists? It just got weird. Blatantly commenting on my tits would have been less awkward.

I should have called it a day and just left, but no, I’m not that smart. Still giving this creepy guy the benefit of the doubt. Oh, past A. I didn’t order another beer for very obvious reasons. I think we each paid for our own beers, and then he asks if I want to take a walk. I say OK and we take a short walk to the park and smoke a cigarette.  He continues to pour on the very strange and unwarranted compliments.

We sit on a bench at the park while I try to figure out how to get rid of him. I lie and say I need to meet up with a friend in Everett. He decides that’s the perfect time to make his move, and he puts his hand on my leg. I physically remove it and tell him that this is never going to happen, we are just friends and will never be anything more.

I felt like I was scolding a young child for not keeping his hands to himself on the playground.

I finally took him home. For the next several months he kept calling me. Luckily he couldn’t text me because he still had no cell phone. What a winner.

I inadvertently answered one of his calls one day thinking it was someone else, so I figured it was the right time to tell him he needed to stop contacting me. He didn’t stop, but I just continued to ignore his calls.

And he didn’t do anything too disturbing until October rolled around. As I was leaving a bar after having a girls evening out with some fellow bloggers and single lady friends, he is there, outside on the sidewalk. Perhaps a coincidence, but also perhaps a very creepily planned out stalking move. The funny part is that I had just told this story to the girls no more than 2 hours earlier.  

They all realize that this is THAT guy and they all try to pull me into the bar next door to protect me from this crazy-ass weirdo who just happened to be outside at the exact moment we were all leaving the bar. Of course instead of hiding from him like a smart person, in my typical fashion (and bravery fueled by a few drinks), I stayed outside and talked to him. Again, it was like scolding a small child. I told him that he can never contact me again. Amazingly, I haven’t heard from him since.

I guess my lesson learned is that just because I’ve known a person for 15 years doesn’t mean they aren’t going to turn into a total creep and pounce on the opportunity of hitting on a newly single woman with really nice wrists.

Court – Being Loved by Sarah

WHO: Court

WHAT: REAL LIFE MEET-CUTE! Who even knew this stuff happened outside of the movies?

WHEN: August 1, 2015

WHERE: Ballard Beer Company, Seattle

WHY: Because I fucking earned it. Read all previous posts to see why.


THE MEET-CUTE
This one is a good one. It’s straight out of a rom com and I still can’t quite believe it happened to me.

I feel really lucky.

Henry – Survived by Sarah

WHO: Henry, the tall, cute, single, high school English teacher
WHAT: OkCupid date
WHEN: End of 2014 or early 2015. Who can remember after all these bad dates?
WHERE: Seattle, WA
WHY: Because for a tall girl who has two English degrees and went to school to be a teacher, how many tall, cute, single English teachers are there really out there? The answer is one, and it was this guy.

The Architect – Survived by Tara

Disclaimer: This is an OOOOOLLLLDDDD dating story, but I was in the Lower Haight today and ran into said ex-date. So enjoy.

Who: The Architect turned Torah-Dad, to be explained later.

What: Meet Cute! Real life!

When: About 3 years ago

Where: On the bus on my way to work.

Why: I was living in the lower Haight and usually walked to work. I was running late and decided last minute to hop on the bus to work. It was packed to the brim but a handsome guy stood up and offered me his seat.


THE DATE
We smiled, I sat down, and handsome guy stood over me. The bus lurched, he fell on top of me, and we laughed. Turns out he was an architect on his way to day two of his new job. He had a great smile and a friendly casualness that had me grinning ear to ear. We chatted for a few minutes, and he asked if I wanted to grab a drink that night after work. I was so shocked by his forwardness that I found myself giving him my number before I could think about it. My stop was next so I headed towards the front of the bus and ran right into a young woman in a wheel chair.

Me, mortified: “Oh my gosh! I am SO sorry, I wasn’t paying attention!:
Her: “Oh hunny, don’t even worry your pretty little head. I can see you were thinking about other things.” (she nods her head back towards the Architect.)
Me, blushing, turning to see if he noticed my total fail at a graceful exit: “Hahahaha, right? I’ll just exit out the back.”
Her: “GIRL it’s your lucky day. You can’t tell me you’ve never wanted to ride down the wheelchair ramp on a bus. Hop on!”
Me: “Ummm- uhhh, okay?!”

I stand behind her and the bus driver lowers us VERY slowly. I turn and look at Architect and wave. He’s laughing (at me?!) and yells, “Until tonight!”

I push my wheelchair friend onto the sidewalk.

Her: “Pretty fucking rad right? You meet a hot guy on a bus and you get a ride on the ever-so-exclusive wheelchair ramp. It’s your fucking lucky day! Go get ‘em tiger!”
Me: “Yeah! Youre right! It’s gonna be a good day!” We high five and I head to work.

He calls me an hour later. CALLS ME. I was so shocked I almost didn’t answer. We make plans to go to a bar in the lower Haight around 8pm. I find myself incredibly excited and call my sister.

Sister: “That sounds amazing, however did you forget we have plans tonight?”
Me: “What? Fuck. Right. You wanted to take me to Hog and Rocks. I forgot. Can we rain check?”
Sister: “NO. I was going to surprise you but I invited Jordan, that guy that I work with that I told you about? He’s short but super hot and you guys would totally hit it off.”

Now, in case anyone is keeping score, you will find that I have already written about Jordan (see blog post Jordan). This is in fact the same guy. 

Me: “Can’t I do both? I’ll come have a drink with you guys and then go off and meet the Architect.”
Sister: “Fine, but Jordan is amazing and he’s way better than a dude you met on Muni.”

I book it over to Hog and Rocks after work and Sister is there with an incredibly dapper and very handsome fedora-wearing guy sitting next to her. I’m taken aback. Maybe I should cancel Architect and stay? Jordan has a charming smile and I’m still waffling as he hops off his stool to hug me. He’s exactly my height with the hat on and I decide that since the Architect is taller, I’m going to stick to my original plan (never compromise). Sister introduces us and I jump right in on my meet cute date story so Jordan gets the hint that I’m ditching out. He buys a few rounds of drinks and I’m tipsy as I look at my phone to call a cab.

Jordan: “You should stay. This guy is going to turn out to be lame, I can feel it. Stay and have dinner with me.”
Me: “That is a very kind offer, but I’m not the kind of girl to bail on a guy last minute.”
Jordan: “You’re beautiful and charismatic. You deserve someone more exciting than an Architect.”
Me: “Well, my dapper friend, that is what dating is all about. Finding out. Exploring. Thanks for the drinks and I’m sure I’ll run into you later.”

Later that night Jordan got back together with his GF, moved in with her, and then 2 years later I fell into silly lust with that cocky bastard.

Okay, the date:
We met in front of the bar and he was as cute as I remembered. The bouncer looked at my ID and smiled. He grabbed Architect’s ID and looked at it, looked at the Architect, looked at me, then at the ID again.

Bouncer: “Yeah man! Get it! Congrats dude! Right on!”

Architect ushers me into the bar, grabs us a table, and orders beers. Reminder that I’m 3 very expensive cocktails in and my filter has disappeared.

Me: “Um, what was the bouncer saying to you?”
Him: “What? Oh nothing. It’s not a big deal.”
Me: “No really, what was that about?”
Him: “It was my birthday yesterday, so he was probably just wishing me a belated birthday.”
Me: “Oh! Happy birthday! Cheers!”

We chat for about an hour and I realize that I’ve had about 3 beers but neither of us has gotten up to go get any of them.

Me: “Wait. Are these magic beers? Where do they keep coming from?
Him: “Oh, well I was here last night for my birthday. It’s my favorite bar. The bartender knows what I like so he just keeps ‘em coming. I love having a local bar to go too.”
Me: “Fun! Was it a big birthday?”
Him: “Um, no, nothing out of the ordinary. Just some friends came out and we had some beers.”
Me: “What number did you celebrate? I’m turning 29 this year.”
Him: “Ummm do you want another beer?”
Me: “No, I’m good for now. I love birthdays! Did you have a cake? It’s not a real birthday unless you have a cake. I love cake.” (Can you tell I’m getting drunk?!) “Come on, tell me how old you are. I already told you my age.”
Him: “Um, well see, the thing is, I, uh, just turned 21.”
Me: “I’m sorry. I think I heard you wrong. Did you just say you were 21? Like born in the 1990’s and not able to drink until YESTERDAY?!”
Him: “Right, see this is why I didn’t tell you. I knew you would freak out. Look, I’m super mature for my age. And it’s just a number. You aren’t that much older than me!”
Me: “Do you know who Alf is?”
Him: “Sorry, who? Is that a friend of yours?”
Me: “Do you know what I mean when I say I’m MacGyvering up a plan?”
Him: “You mean MacGruber? Like from SNL?”
Me: “No. Like MacGyver. The TV Show.”
Him: “Um, you’re totally overreacting. This isn’t a big deal. We’re like 7 years apart.”

So I’m a little drunk and obviously making a bigger deal out of this than needed. But he doesn’t know who ALF AND MACGVYER ARE!

Me: “You don’t know who Alf and Macgyver are! You were probably raised on turkey bacon and prefer the “New Age” Ninja Turtles with the weird anime faces. I have to go. You are toooo young for me.  Wait. Does this also means that you are still in college?! ARE YOU AN INTERN?! DO YOU EVEN HAVE A REAL JOB?!”
Him: “Tara, you are screaming. Stop. Seriously, you are being ridiculous. I skipped a grade, so yes, I graduated college. I do have a real job. I have an apartment, and I’m rad. So shut up and deal with the age thing.”

At some point I had stood up and was going to walk out, but then he kissed me. Like realllllly kissed me. Like pushed up against a wall and kissed. It was hot and it totally shut me up.

Him: “So. Are we done with the age thing? Can we go back to my place?”
Me: “Totally. Done. Shutting up. Lets go.”

We leave the bar and the bouncer high fives him.

Him: “I live right around the corner….”

To be continued…

Human Phil – Survived by Sarah

WHO: Human Phil. You might be thinking, “Aren’t all the guys you go on dates with humans, Sarah?” That point is actually debatable as I’m not totally sure they are all actually human beings, but you’ll find out why I have to specify that this guy was a human shortly.

WHAT: OKCupid date

WHEN: A few weeks ago

WHERE: The Hi-Life in Ballard, WA

WHY: Because of all the single. Sigh.


THE DATE
I first started talking to this guy on OKC like 5 months before we actually went on a date. To his credit, he continued to reach out to me every time I ghosted off the app. I had met Navy Guy (see previous blog post My Person) back in March and had an on and off thing with him for a few months. Every time Navy Guy ghosted me, I reluctantly re-downloaded all the stupid apps and started messaging people to keep myself from losing my shit.

So Human Phil was one of the guys I would randomly and sporadically message and he always replied. We didn’t have much deep conversation, but he seemed to have his shit together. His main profile photo didn’t really do anything for me, but some of the others seemed to be better photos and he seemed cute. His profile said he was 6’3” and since he kept responding after every disappearance I made, I kept him around in my message inbox.

So, shit finally ended with Navy Guy and ended badly. I hopped back on the dating train to keep myself from totally derailing emotionally, and Human Phil and I made a plan.

Now, the curious thing about online dating is that most of the apps don’t make you list your actual name. So unless you think about it ahead of time or they offer it up, you suddenly find yourself going on dates with people who you realize you don’t know how to address. Several times I’ve sent a text to someone like an hour before meeting them that says, “So this is really embarrassing but I just realized I don’t know what your name is.” Online dating is the worst.

So Human Phil’s name on OKC was c5run. I had no idea until morning of our date what this guy’s name was. I know it seems weird to not have asked, but it’s just something that slips your mind when all you’re doing is typing to people. They don’t even seem like real people anyway until you meet them. The morning of our date, he sends me a message asking if we are still on for that evening. He also mentions he never caught my name and says his is Phil.

This might seem shallow and lame, but I was immediately turned off. My cat is named Phil.

If you’ve never seen the show Modern Family, you’re really missing out. There is a character named Phil who I have long said I want to find a real-life version of to end up with. There’s an episode where Phil and his family go to a dude ranch and he dubs himself Buffalo Phil, which is what I named my cat. I’ve had said cat for about 4 years and was not looking forward to dating someone with the same name. That just feels creepy. That’s like a level of crazy cat lady you can’t recover from.

Human Phil lived downtown but said he loves Ballard and agreed to meet me in my neighborhood. I picked a restaurant that s inside an old firehouse and has a decent happy hour, and reluctantly drug myself onto the bus to go meet him there. I wasn’t really feeling excited and it was a Sunday evening and I was tired. Monday was coming and I had things I needed to get done.

Human Phil was much more attractive in person than in his photos, which rarely happens. We had decent conversation and hung out for over 2 hours. He was from Arizona and had moved here two years earlier. Bla bla bla. None of it was particularly memorable, but it wasn’t awful. It was mildly enjoyable.

At one point he told me about his dog and said, “I’m a really bad pet owner,” and I was immediately turned off. You should never be that and you should never tell someone that.

We had some appetizers and beers and he paid for everything which was a nice change. We exchanged phone numbers and made tentative plans for the following week. When we walked outside, he gave me a hug and kind of tilted side to side as he hugged me and said LOUDLY in my ear, “IT WAS NICE TO MEET YOU SARAH!!”  

After our first date I wasn’t totally sure I felt like dating this guy, but at least he wasn’t terrible. For our second date, he suggested a place in Fremont and I headed over there after yoga. I texted him to let him know I was running about 5 minutes late, but he didn’t respond. I walked as fast as my little long legs could carry me, and saw him getting off the bus about 30 seconds before I walked inside.

Yes, I was late. But at least I made the effort to let him know I was going to be late. He didn’t seem to feel that was necessary on his part. It rubbed me the wrong way for some reason. I should have taken it as an omen.

I had been basically sprint-walking for several minutes in the very hot sun, and the restaurant was really stuffy inside so the sweats came on. What a good look. It was extremely crowded for a Thursday night so we sat at the bar while we waited for a table. I was dying of thirst but Human Phil wouldn’t stop blathering on about one thing or another. After 20 minutes I was finally able to break in and say I was going to go order a beer. He looked miffed and stood off to the side so I could order.

I asked what he wanted, and Human Phil said, “Oh, nothing. I can wait until we get a table.”

Um, ok.

I asked if he wanted some water, and again Human Phil said, “No, I can wait until we get a table.”

I was growing more annoyed by the second.

We finally got a table and about 2 minutes after we sat down, someone announced that trivia would be starting in about 15 minutes. I’m not sure if you’ve ever tried to have a conversation while trivia is going on in the same room, but it’s near impossible. You just end up silently sitting there listening to the questions and whispering the answers to each other even though you aren’t playing.

So that’s what we did. We had lame conversation until trivia started, and then we listened to trivia until we left. Everything he said was annoying me. The things about him I’d found interesting on our first date had dissolved. We had discussed bus lines on our first date, going over in detail which routes and which stops are the worst. We somehow did this again on our second date. It wasn’t even an interesting conversation the first time around, so why it was being revisited again was beyond me.

I jokingly said, “We already talked about this last time. I guess we have nothing left to talk about.” But I was only 1% joking and 99% serious.

Once trivia started, I was relieved not to have to talk to him anymore. Which worked out well because he got far more annoying. Turns out he is a know-it-all who has to be right. Every question they asked he would tell me my answer was wrong and his was right and then whenever he was right he would point at me and say, “I told you.”

I find super competitive people to be a total turnoff. I am not competitive at all and losing at something doesn’t really bother me. There’s a lot more I couldn’t probably tell you about this guy, but what’s the point. So I mentally checked out and ate my food quicker so I could leave  sooner.

We split the bill and headed outside. Someone must have been looking out for me, because his bus was pulling up right as we walked outside. He hugged me and I was like, “Go or you’ll miss your bus! Bye!” He ran across the street and I happily listened to a comedy podcast to help me get back to a non-annoyed place while waiting for my bus. He texted me half an hour later, “Got it!” I waited until the next day and wrote back, “Nice.” And we never spoke again.

I like cat Phil a lot better anyway.

Peter – Survived by Sarah

WHO: Peter

WHAT: OkCupid date

WHEN: July 17th, 2015

WHERE: Summit Public House, Capitol Hill WA

WHY: Because I had decided OkCupid was officially the least worst dating app. And this guy’s profile was pretty funny. And funny has never steered me wrong before…oh wait…

THE DATE
This guy had made plans with me two weeks ahead of time, which is some impressive dedication. I can barely plan what I’m having for dinner tonight, let alone plan to get a beer with someone in two weeks. But his profile was well-crafted and he seemed to be non-creepy. And luckily he checked in a couple days before said beer-getting to remind me.

I didn’t want to go, but I am one to keep my commitments. Even when I don’t feel like it. Like, at all.

I’d been on a wildly successful date two nights earlier, and I had plans the following week to see that guy again. So I didn’t feel like going on a first date I could already feel was going to suck. But I went anyway because I didn’t have anything better to do. I had been debating with my co-worker earlier in the day about this guy’s photos. Every single one looked like a completely different human being, so I was incredibly unsure of what he looked like.

I had my aunt and uncle’s car for a few days, so I fortunately got to drive myself to this weird place this Peter guy had picked. I ground my way through traffic and got there right on time. I texted him to let him know I was there, and he said he was “200 seconds” away. I liked that response and wrote back, “That’s accurate timing.” Maybe I would like him after all.

Wrong.

This guy strolls in and looks less than zero percent like any of his photos. One of his photos showed him as a surfer blonde who was sort of balding but looked really laid back, one showed him with a giant head of luscious jet black hair and super pale skin looking like a 12 year old, and so on. None of them prepared me for who walked in.

Peter’s profile said he was 32, but the person that walked up to me looked to be about 45. He looked like one of those 40 somethings who is trying to still keep a stranglehold on his youth but failing. He was wearing these big plastic glasses and I couldn’t tell if they were supposed to be hipstery, ironic, or just stupid. He had on a button-up shirt that was checkered, but all the checkers were clown colors like bright orange and red and yellow. It was overwhelming my retinas. And then this shirt was tucked into full-on dad jeans with a leather belt. Like the bad jeans Obama wore that time he threw that baseball pitch. And on his feet were hi-top Converse that were the ugliest color I have ever seen in my life. They were like baby diarrhea brown.

It was an intense ensemble.

He walked over to me and at first I sort of recoiled. Since he looked like none of his photos, I thought he was some rando coming over to talk to me. As I was getting ready to say I was meeting someone, he stuck his hand out and said really over-enthusiastically, “Hi, I’m Peter! Nice to meet you!”

Since his name and arrival time seemed to line up with who I thought I was meeting, I assumed this was the same person. I wanted to leave immediately, but I shook his hand and we walked over to the bar to get a drink
Peter: “Wow, you’re tall.”
Me: “Yep.”
Peter: “Like, really tall.”
Me: “Um, I know that.”

Silence.

Me: “Thanks?”
Him: “You’ve been working on that your whole life?”
Me: “Um, well I stopped growing in like 8th grade. So no.”

A word of advice to humans in general: don’t tell tall people they’re tall. They totally already know.

Peter plunked down his card for both our beers and told the bartender to open a tab. Poor guy, he really thought I would be staying for another drink. I thanked him and said he didn’t have to pay for me, but he insisted. Which was nice, I’ll give him that.

He was a nice person. He didn’t seem like a total creepy weirdo like some others I’ve met. He had a job, he seemed to have friends, and he definitely had a personality. But it was that third thing that I wasn’t too keen on.

He was friendly and outgoing, but in an almost abrasive way. To his credit, there wasn’t much awkward silence during our date. But all the talking wasn’t necessarily good.

Everything he told me was boring as fuck. And I don’t say that lightly.

He had written on his profile that his office allows dogs. There was a group of adorable dogs at the bar we were at, so I mentioned the office dogs. Peter then launched into a significantly long lecture about said dogs.

He told me the name of every dog that comes into his office.

He told me the names of every dog’s “mom and dad” who bring each dog to the office.

He told me THE WEEKLY SCHEDULE of every dog that comes in. What days, how long they stay, etc.

No, I am not joking.

He told me THE HYGIENE OF EVERY DOG that comes into his office.

And this was only like 10 minutes in.

He told me he had only been at his job for two months and that he had spent much of the week just doing math.

If there is one thing that can make a conversation totally thrilling when you first meet someone, it’s definitely going into detail about all the math you did that week.

I promise I’m not just being a judgemental wench, this guy was boring as shit. And it was a weird juxtaposition to how loud his shirt was and how exuberantly he talked. He even had a really animated face, sort of like a Wallace and Gromit claymation character. But unfortunately none of that could overcome the boring.

He was from Kansas. Spoiler alert: all his stories about Kansas were boring.

Largest ball of twine? Boring.

Super flat and nothing to do? Boring.

The Royals aren’t in Kansas? No one cares, except Paul Rudd. He loves the Royals.

Kansas is better than Missouri? Whatever. And is it? Is it really? They both sound boring.

I mentioned I had just seen Wicked and asked if there was any Wizard of Oz stuff in Kansas. He very seriously said, “The Wizard of Oz has NOTHING to do with Kansas.”

I calmly pointed out that, while I was aware it was likely not actually filmed in Kansas, every part of the movie that isn’t in Oz TAKES PLACE IN KANSAS. I told him that I meant is there any touristy Wizard of Oz stuff, because that seems like a thing they would have. He said no.

Fine. Whatever. I literally couldn’t care less.

I was barely able to contain myself every time he launched into a new topic. I kept rolling my eyes every time I took a sip of my beer and facepalming myself.

We briefly discussed how easy it is for people on the internet to get irate and rant about things and attack people because it’s anonymous. He informed me that he spends a lot of time doing that on board game forums.

Let that just settle into your brain for a hot second.

Yes, board game forums. He told me that’s what he spends most of his free time doing. He rants and raves at people on BOARD GAME FORUMS.

After a Liz Lemon-worthy eye roll, I asked him which games he is on forums for.

Him: “There are literally tens of thousands of board games.”
Me: “Ok, but which one? Like Monopoly?”
Him: “Yes, Monopoly is a board game.”
Me, stifling my raging hatred of him: “Yes, I know that. Which games do you go on forums about?”
Him: “I guess mostly math games.”

Oh, brother.

I’m so sorry if you thought this story was ever going to get interesting, because it doesn’t.

Him: “You know how you can play chess against a computer?”
Me: “Um, yes.”
Him: “Well there are other games you can play against a computer.”
Me: “….”
Him: “Well there’s this math game that performs at a level higher than the smartest human bla bla bla I can’t remember what else he actually said because I was too busy rolling my eyes.”
Me: “…cool?”
Him: “Bla bla math games etcetera. And one time I spent 3 hours playing checkers online against someone simply because we were in a stalemate and the other guy refused to forfeit so I did too.”
Me: *staring at a dog nearby*
Him: “Then I went and anonymously talked shit on him on the forums.”
Me: *I wonder if that dog has as involved a schedule as those office dogs.*
Him: “So that’s how I spend a lot of my free time.”

I kept yawning, and he still kept talking. At some point he went to the bathroom and I texted Tara, “OMG HELP HE IS SO FUCKING BORING.”

Our drinks had been empty for like 20 minutes and I hadn’t been able to make an exit. Finally there was a brief pause and I was able to say, “I hope this isn’t rude, but I’m really tired. I had a long day at work and have to get up early tomorrow, so I think I’m going to go. Sorry.”

He looked sort of surprised, which is shocking because I don’t know how he could have thought things were going well.

I said, “It was nice to meet you,” and gave him a hug because I’m too nice to tell him he bored me almost to tears and it really wasn’t that nice meeting him.
He said, “Well, you have my number so text me when you want to hang again.”

I nodded and walked away.

Two days later, after I’d blocked him on the app we met on and deleted his number from my phone, he texted me. I deleted it again because it was still boring. Sorry, guy.

Baldy and Cutey McPlaid Shirt – Survived by Sarah

WHO: Another idiot. Who cares.

WHAT: Just another Plenty of Fish failure. The only thing I’m finding plenty of is wasted time.

WHEN: June 25th, 2015

WHERE: The same restaurant I’d been stood up at the night before in Ballard, WA

WHY: I was still in the throes of breakup sorrow. The only way to distract myself from the sad was to spend as little time alone as possible.

THE DATE
Ok, so maybe you think I’m a masochist for returning to the scene so soon after being stood up. In all reality, that was a totally embarrassing thing to do. But after sitting there for so long the night before staring at the menu, I was desperate to try everything they had. So when this guy and I were deciding on a place to meet morning of our date, I jumped in quickly and suggested Matador.

And here is where I already start to get annoyed. I know, shocking right?

Him: “Matador is good. It’s a little expensive but I’m down if you feel like getting schmancy.”
Me: “Let’s try it, I’ve never been. I’m from CA so I’m obsessed with Mexican food.”
Him: “Oh let’s definitely go if you’ve never been. They do Mexi-fusion really well.”

Mexi-fusion?

Me, annoyed, which luckily didn’t come through because texting: “Ok cool.”
Him: “If you want real authentic Mexican food I know a lot of other places. You have to get out into the ghetto and they’re the kind that make you ill all the next day.”
Me: “Well I have to work tomorrow so I don’t really want to feel ill.”
Him: “I’m starting to question your commitment to Mexican food.”

Strike one. No one should ever, EVER, question my Mexi-foodmmitment. He clearly has no idea how many burritos I have eaten in my life. My insides are made of salsa and tacos, guy.

So we go to Matador. I walk inside 1 minute late and he’s already sitting at the bar drinking a beer. Maybe it’s just me, but I find that exceptionally rude. Unless I’m like 10 or more minutes late, be a patient human being.

He’s got a fully bald head with a full beard. I think I’ve mentioned before that this is not a good look (see the previous Superstar dating event). I order a margarita at the bar and sit next to him, but as soon as it’s in my hands the waitress says our table is ready. We pay and the guy tells the bartender it’s separate.

Keep this point in mind for later on in the story: he did not offer to pay. It will become absurd later, I promise.

I don’t see the waitress I had the night before, so I breathe a tiny sigh of relief. We sit outside one table away from the table I was stood up at. So at least I’m not 100% repeating my previous evening. At least this guy showed up.

That’s a pretty sad “at least” to focus on.

It’s tolerably hot outside and I sit on the side of the table facing the sun. I love sunshine, so what do I care?

But the sun is directly in my eyes with nothing to block it. I put on my sunglasses but it’s so directly burning into my corneas that I literally can’t see the guy’s face across the table. I put my hand up to block it, he says nothing.

He has a Newsies-type hat and he puts it on backwards. He says he needs to keep his head and neck from getting burned.

If you think those hats are a bad idea, you should see someone bald wearing one backwards.

Luckily for me, I could barely see him.

The waitress came and I asked for chips and salsa.

Waitress: “Would you like some fresh guacamole? We make it in house.”
Me, looking blindly across the table with my hand shielding my eyes: “Would you eat some if I get it?”
Bald Backward Newsies Hat: “Erm, no.”
Me: “Um, ok” and then to the waitress, “No thanks I guess.”

The waitress leaves.

Me: “You don’t like guacamole?”
Him: “I’m indifferent to avocados.”

I stared silently into the sun.

WHO IS INDIFFERENT TO AVOCADOS?! They’re delicious. And pick a side, guy. You either like them or you don’t. Take off your hat, grow a pair, and make a decision.

Suddenly, a tall, plaid-clad, cutey face guy appears at the side of our table. He refills my water, and I grin like a moron. He makes a joke and I giggle. He returns several times to our table for various reasons, and I make a point to catch his eye and smile every time I see him walking through the restaurant.

Back to the moron across from me.

We have basically nothing in common. So we talk about online dating since I guess we both do that.

Ulgh. Whatever.

My arm is starting to shake from holding it up to block the sun for so long.

He brags about how he has been on over 30 first dates this year. He says, “This is my year of dating.” I say I’ve been on probably just as many, but he doesn’t really care. He brags about how he has paid for almost every single date.

I’m having a terrible time so I comfort myself with the fact that maybe he will at least buy my tacos for me. And the tacos were absolutely delicious, by the way.

I make eyes at the cute plaid-wearing guy. He’s so tall and smiley.

This idiot across from me is still talking. He says, “You’re going to have a weird sunburn on the back of your hand from holding it up like that.”

No offer to switch places with me, and I’ve been blind for over an hour.

I finish my food and he is not even close to being done. He had ordered the nachos, which were some of the most impressive nachos I have ever seen. They came out piled like a foot high with basically an entire animal’s worth of chorizo piled on top.

I’ll bet that guy felt ill from that meal even though we didn’t go to a dirty ghetto place. Mission accomplished.

Cutey McPlaid had brought the nachos out and when he set them on the table, he smiled at me again. I squirmed a little in my seat and smiled back. He patted Baldy across the table on the shoulder and said, “Good luck.”

Anyway, I sit there staring at the Mt. Everest of nachos this guy is never going to finish. He continues talking at me like there’s any remote chance I’m showing I care about anything he’s saying.

My arm is so tired.

He says something about how he made such a valiant effort at the nachos, but he’s barely scraped the surface. I tell him to scrape all the toppings off the chips and take them home to throw in some eggs or on top of new chips. He seems unimpressed by my ingenuity.

The cute waiter guy comes back eventually and we smile at each other. He asks the idiot if he would like a box, which idiot finally agrees to.

Our table has been cleared for a while and the bill hasn’t come. I’m so ready to leave, but I’m enjoying smiling at that cute boy.

I begin formulating a plan in my brain.

The check finally arrives like 15 minutes later. We’ve been at dinner for over an hour and a half. After all the bragging I’d heard about his year of dating and shelling out, I mildly expected the guy to make some grand offer to pay for me.

Nope.

I get my card out and he does nothing to stop me. I throw it down on the bill and when the waitress comes back the guy says, “Split it.”

Whatever.

We walk out of the restaurant and do the lame “see you soon, let’s do it again” thing, and we set off in different directions.

But I’d made up my mind to do something I have only done one other time in my life.

I walk around the block and return to the restaurant, my third time arriving there in two days.

Not pathetic at all.

While I walked around the block, I’d grabbed one of my business cards from my wallet and scribbled my cell phone number on it. I was going to give my number to that cute boy.

When I enter the restaurant, a few people look at me weird. I had been taking deep breaths on my way back to psych myself up, and I’m sure I looked like a deer in headlights. I looked around frantically and when I didn’t see him, I almost bailed. Instead I noticed a group of servers standing around staring at me so I bolted into the bathroom. And I just stood there.

Oh, Sarah.

I looked at myself in the mirror and breathed. It was like a scene from a movie that everyone says doesn’t really happen in real life. Well, apparently it does. I probably should have splashed water on my face to make it completely cliche.

I took a few breaths and walked back out. I scanned the room as I slowly walked back towards the door. I didn’t see him, but I did spot two waitresses standing around doing nothing. I quickly walked over to them fearing he would appear before I could leave.

Me: “Um, hi. This is sort of weird and awkward, but would you mind giving my phone number to that guy who works here who was wearing the plaid shirt?”
Waitress 1: “Um..”
Me: “I don’t normally do this or ask people out, but I was just on a really bad date and he was nicer to me than my date was.”
Waitress 1, less weirded out now: “Aww I’m sorry.”
Me: “Oh it’s fine, but he was just so nice to me. Is he single?”
Waitress 1 and 2, smiling: “Yes!”
Me: “Oh ok good. I don’t see him anywhere, would you mind giving him my number?”
Waitress 1: “Sure!”
Me: “Thanks!”
Waitress 2: “Hope your night goes better.”
Me, suddenly spotting the plaid guy out of the corner of my eye: “Thanks!”

And I bolted out of the restaurant before my entire body had the chance to claw up with awkward. And he never called.

Wells Fargo Guy – Survived by Tara

WHO: Wells Fargo Guy

WHAT: Real Life

WHEN: 2008, Santa Barbara. Another one from the slutty chapter of my life.

WHERE: Wells Fargo, duh. He was my banker.

WHY: I had just moved home after two years of college, number one. I needed a break and took some time off to find myself. I walked into Wells Fargo and was greated by a VERY tall, dark, and handsome banker. I opened an account while he shamlessly flirted with me. He was a smooth talker, very charming, and offered me a swag bag of free things if I went out on a date with him. Obviously my standards aren’t all that high, so of course I took the bag and agreed to a date.

THE DATE
I met him at his house. I lived with my parents and wasn’t about to have any guy meet them on the first date, so I told him I’d come get him. He’s in basketball shorts and work out t-shirt. Didn’t realize that we were going so casual. I was in jeans, a nice top, and wearing heels.

Me: “So, you need to get ready?”
Him: “What? No. I thought we’d just stay in. Order pizza and watch a movie. Sound good?”
Me: “Um, well not really my ideal first date. Kinda thought we could hit up this new spot on State Street.”
Him: “Let’s stay in. I just don’t want to share you with anyone.”

I realize now how creepy that is. Noted.

But I give in. He sits down on the couch. I move to sit next to him and he puts his arm around me. A little forward for a first date. I wriggle out of his grasp and he asks if I could get him a beer from the fridge.

Let me set the scene: His couch faces the fridge, so anyone sitting on or around the couch has a perfect view of what’s happening in the kitchen.

Me, bent over, head in the fridge: “What kind of beer do you want?”
Him: “What’s the bottle all the way in the back?”
Me: “Looks like an IPA.”
Him: What about the one over to the left?”
Me: “Also an IPA.”
Him: “What about that one on the bottom shelf?”
Me: “PBR.”
Him: “Yeah, get us those. Can you bring a few glasses? Try that cupboard over there.”

I open the cupboard and there are no glasses.

Me: “Um, there aren’t any glasses.”
Him: “Yeah there are, you just have to reach up really high. Higher, reach, reach. Right there. You see them?”
My back still facing him: “Nope. I see nothing.”
Him: “Oh try the bottom cupboard. We just moved things around. You might have to get on all fours and look all the way in the back.”

Friendly reminder that I’m 21 in this true life story. Not a ton of dating experience and obviously unaware at how weird he’s being.

I bend over, get on all fours, and shuffle around some stuff  to find some glasses.

Me: “AHA! I WIN! Found them!”

I turn around and see that he has his hand down his basketball shorts and he’s obviously very turned on by me looking for beer glasses.

Me: “Um, I’m sorry. What are you doing?”
Him: “Your ass is just so round and big. I just wanted to look at it from all angles.”
Me: “Uhhh. I think this was a bad idea. I’m gonna go.”
Him: “No stay! Sorry, your ass is just so hot. I’ll behave. Look, I ordered pizza. Stay.”

I marinate on his offer for a second. I could just eat the pizza and then peace out. Maybe 30 min, tops.

Me: “Okay. I’ll stay for some pizza. But first date buddy, keep it in your pants.”

I move into the living room and walk away from him to sit across the room on the other couch. He grabs my hand, and pulls me to sit on top of his lap.

Him: “Just thought you might want to feel how hot your ass makes me. Think maybe later I could put it in your butt? I bet it would feel so…”
Me: “Jeeze buddy. HELL NO. I’m out.”

I grab my stuff and head for the door.

Him: “Oh come on! With an ass like that you are begging to have me all up in it. Stop being a tease. Come on, come back. I’m kidding. Come back. Wait…what was your name?”

I slam the door behind me and walk down the driveway. I notice a pimply teen holding a large pizza box.

Me: “Hey kid, is that for this house?”
Him: “Uh, yeah Miss, it is. Extra large with extra sausage.”
Me, eyes rolling: “Of course he ordered extra sausage. Is it paid for?”
Him: “Yeah, credit card.”
Me: “Great. Can I add a tip on the card?”
Kid: “Yeah, totally.”

I grab the pizza and book it back to my car.

Kid: “Hey Miss, you left me a $50 tip?! Thanks!”

Superstar – Survived by Sarah

What follows is the first chapter of a two-parter story. Though the navy guy referenced in the story and I are no longer together, this is a story of hope for all those struggling singles out there. Or maybe just for myself, who knows. So enjoy. It’s not all bad out there. I mean, the guy in this first part of the story is lame but next week’s, he’s the beacon of hope.

WHO: We can call him Superstar, even though he isn’t one

WHAT: My first Hinge date

WHEN: Friday the 13th, 2015

WHERE: A cool bar in downtown Ballard, my neighborhood in Seattle. The guy said he frequented it often, they had an outdoor seating area, and shuffleboard. So far the only good online date I had been on involved shuffleboard, so I agreed to meet him at said bar in the hopes that shuffleboard was my lucky dating sport.

WHY: Because I was sad this Navy guy I was supposed to have a date with that night cancelled morning of. I couldn’t face another Friday night alone with my cat eating ice cream and watching Netflix in a still pretty unfamiliar city where I don’t know that many people, so I agreed to a date with the first replacement I could find for the night.

THE DATE
To some people Friday the 13th is unlucky, but not really in my family. One of my uncles who is really great was born on Friday the 13th, so I’ve always thought of the day fondly. However, this Friday didn’t seem to be going my way. I had a date scheduled with this Navy guy I was pretty excited about. We’d been messaging and texting back and forth for a couple weeks and he was so witty and so cute and SO TALL, so I was so very excited for our date. He’d asked me if it would be to ok for him to see a photo of my cat Buffalo Phil which goes a long way in my book, and he and I had been making some plans to “take over the world.”

Plenty of Fish has suggested him to me. He was in the Navy which isn’t usually my thing, but he was too intriguing to care. And the uniform actually worked for me when it was him wearing it. Unfortunately the morning of our date, the dreaded Friday the 13th, he had to cancel because some idiot on his ship got a DUI. He was the ranking officer (helloooooo) and so he had to stay in to “deal with the guy.” Luckily for me, I had a slow day at work and was able to “hook another fish” for the night.

See what I did there?

Anyway, this Hinge guy was tall I guess. He picked a cool bar in my neighborhood that I hadn’t been to, and because I got there a little early I waited outside for him. This guy seemed funny I guess. He was a runner, one of those overachieving multiple marathon types, and he had a shaved head which I’m assuming was by choice and not genetics. We were about the same age and he liked to do outdoorsy stuff, which 99% of people who online date write on their profiles. But he was available Friday night when I needed to not be dateless so I agreed to meet him.

As I waited outside the bar, I saw someone walk by who I thought was him. He went right by me without saying hello and went inside, so I assumed my memory of his photo was wrong. Since he was already 5 minutes late, I texted him to let him know I was outside. I’d peeked in the bar when I arrived earlier and hadn’t seen anyone sitting solo so I knew he wasn’t in there. He responded with, “I’ve been sitting at the end of the bar waiting.”

Sigh. This was off to a great start.

I went inside and saw him, the very guy who made eye contact with me outside and walked right past me. I rolled my eyes and walked over to him. He already had a beer sitting in front of him that he’d finished half of.

I said, “Hey, I’m Sarah. You must have walked right past me, I was waiting out front.” He shook my hand like this was a business deal and told me his name, which I pretty immediately forgot. But he had a slight accent I found intriguing. I’m a sucker for accents.

Superstar leaned over the bar and said to the bartender, “Hey can we get the stuff for shuffleboard?” He then looked over his shoulder at me as he was walking away towards the shuffleboard table and said, “You probably want a beer.”

Now, this is the type of dude I’m used to dating. Withholding, inconsiderate, doesn’t consult me on decisions, leaves me standing by myself with no warning. So I became immediately attracted even though I was pretty sure I didn’t like him. I’m still learning.

I ordered a beer standing at the bar by myself, then took it over to the shuffleboard table. He had set the pucks down and asked me who should go first. I guess we were getting right down to business, no getting to know each other evidently necessary.

He was infinitely better than me and beat me 21 to 8. I thought maybe we’d stop and chat, but no. No time for that. We started another game. I’m don’t even remember what he did for work. Our conversation was like a boring job interview neither of you really want.

During the three games we played I learned he was from one of the Dakotas, can’t remember which. Every time he said Dakota he had that adorable Fargo accent and I pictured myself become Frances McDermot living out there in a giant puffy coat. I guess this guy could come too.

After our third game, we both were out of beer and I knew this wouldn’t go anywhere. But I powered through because I am me.

I said, “Should we sit and chat?”
He looked at me confused and said, “What?”
I said, “Do you want to sit for a bit?”
He looked at me annoyed and said, “Ok. I guess”

We both got another beer, same deal as last time. He ordered first and then left to go sit down while I stood there alone and ordered mine. No offer to pay, no chit chat, no nothing.

I don’t really remember what we covered as we talked, but who really cares. I hadn’t had dinner so a few sips into my second beer I started to feel slightly less repulsed by the full beard that accompanied his completely bald head. That’s not a good look, but beer goggles.

Suddenly, he stood up and said “We should go.” I had a few sips of my beer left and I said, “Can I finish this first?” He scowled.

We walked outside and to the corner where the light was red. While keeping his hands in his pockets he said, “Well, bye Superstar” and turned his back to me.

I didn’t respond with a parting greeting of my own. We’d spent two hours together and I felt totally insulted that this idiot I wasn’t into wasn’t into me. Tipsy Sarah took it incredibly personally and I texted Tara this as I walked away:

I guess the beer goggles were stronger than I thought. The flirting was likely only on my part because he was being fairly standoffish, which usually for me means I like him more. Also, as I mentioned before, sober Sarah would not find this person attractive. Drunk desperate Sarah changed her tune a bit.

And for the record, I did not buy Doritos. How strong am I?!

I did however go home and eat Hagan Daaz rocky road straight from the carton with my cat nearby as we watched The Unbreakable Kimmy Schhmidt. I wanted so badly to feel like I was Unbreakable, but I was breaking at all my seams. Later that evening as I was flossing the almonds out of my teeth and feeling sorry for myself, I popped a crown off one of my molars.

Friday the 13th finally got to me. I was reaching the end of my rope. But then, Sunday the 15th happened…..

Stay turned for the thrilling conclusion next week!

Velour Tracksuit – Survived by Tara

Who: Aaronn. Why two A’s and two N’s?

What: Back on the Tinder Bandwagon. Uggg.

When: Last Sunday. Like 3 days ago.

Where: Dive bar in the Mission

Why: The best way to get over someone who moved out of your zip code is to hop back on the dating train, right? Right? RIGHT?

THE DATE
Since rejoining Tinder I had been receiving all sorts of weird Tinder texts from guys. For example:

Tinder Guy: “Oh hey, I was up all night, entered a biggest penis contest at a bar while too drunk.” Two days later, “oh, too much?”

So when Aaronn just asked about why I was holding a chicken and if Bacon cream soda was delicious (all pictures of things I had on my profile), I jumped at the chance for a normal date.

Aaronn. Okay, really. Why so many extra letters? I should have known then. But via Tinder, he seemed funny, tall, smart, and nerdy. He was in video production and liked Celluliod. Full disclosure: I had to google it. Apparently it’s a highly flammable compound that is used in old movies. A dude that likes fire and movies? He couldn’t be that bad.

We met up at dive bar that I had walked by all the time a few years ago but had never actually been inside. I walked in and instantly loved it. The tables were covered with white tablecloths and served Goldfish in crystal bowls. Aaronn was sitting and already had a beer. He stood up as I walked over and he was wearing a velour track suit. Yep, I said a velour tracksuit. A full-body one. He wasn’t being ironic, he was wearing it for comfort.

I decided to give it 45 min.

Me: “So nice to meet you! How’s your Sunday? Did you take part in Bay To Breakers?” Logical question, duh.
Him: “Yeah, Teeeeaaaarrrruhhhhh. It’s nice to meet you too. Teeeeeeeaaaaarrrrruuuuhhhh.”He slowly pronounces my name. Twice. It’s like he’s mulling over whether or not it’s something he wants to eat. Totally weird. “Yeah, hung out with a friend that was visiting. We jammed a little and then I came here.”
Me: “Fun! Where’s he visiting from?”
Him: “Down the street.”
Me: “Oh, so he lives here?”
Him: “Yeah, he came over. He visited.”
Me: “Oh. um, okay. cool.”

Now, it’s been 5 minutes and he hasn’t offered to buy me a drink let alone ask if I needed one.

Me: “Well, I guess I should go get a beer.”
Him: “Oh yeah, I’m on my second. You should get one.”

Silence.

Me: “Riiight. Be right back.”

After returning with my cider, we proceed to have very boring conversation.When I realize it’s only been 25 minutes and I want to go home and watch netflix with my roommates and cuddle with said roommates’ 4 year old, I decide to try to make an exit.

Me: “So. Video production. How’s that?”
Him: “Well, every once in awhile I make corporate videos. But I manage a small theater in the Mission. I push the play button.”
Me: “Fun! I’m in an independent movie that a friend is making. I get to be a zombie stripper. Super pumped about it.”
Him: “I don’t like movies like that. I’m more into Blah Blah Blah Blah famous obscure unknown director and movie genre.”
Me: “Oh.”
Him: “What’s your favorite movie?”
Me: “Well, whatever I say you are totally going to judge me.”
Him: “Well only if they are shitty.”

Sigh.

Me: “Well the movies that I can always watch over and over are Princess Bride, Pulp Fiction, Goonies, and Garden State.”
Him: “Never heard of most of those.”
Me, ignoring this and changing the subject so I can start to leave: “Well, lately I’ve been more into watching TV shows with my 3 roommates. We stay in and cook and hang out, it’s been super fun. We’re a cute little anti-social family.”
Him: “Oh, that’s cool. My family is weird too.”

Didn’t say weird, but okay buddy.

Him: “Yeah my dad keeps trying to send me to Alaska to try get in touch with my masculine side.”
Me: “Oh. Is that something that you need to do?”
Him: “I mean I don’t do much, I’m boring actually.”

I can tell.

Me: “Well, I gotta get going. I have an early day. Gotta be up at 4am. Retail life, ya know? Early day.”

I actually work at 6 and roll outta bed about 5:20, but he didn’t need to know that.

Him: “Oh. Really? It’s only 8. You got here at 7.”
Me: “Yeah, early day though, so gonna go.”
Him: “Well, I’ll walk you to your car.”

I was parked about 5 blocks away. Since I had to walk with him for another 10 minutes to my car, I decided to see if I could get him to believe that Lily, my 4 year old roommate, is actually a 30 year old.

Me: “Man, my roommate Lily is ridiculous. She’s on this weird gluten-free diet. We went to In and Out last night, and she just ate the burger and fries without the bun. Like, she took the burger out of the bun and jiggled it in both her hands and tried to make a hole in the center with her nose. Oh! And the other day, she declared that it was naked time and ran around the house screaming about how she was a Naked Mole Rat. Do you even know what that is? It’s this weird albino rat thing. Who does that?! It was hilarious. She also loves pirate tv shows and is totally that kind of girl who eats her sandwiches with the crusts cut off and naps. Jealous that she’s still in school and can do that. Anyways, this is me, so see ya!”

Him: “Oh uh yeah, uhhh bye?”

I lean in to hug him, my arms stretched out in the normal hug way, and he leans in with his arms curved like he’s carrying a pile of wood. He gives me this weird, limp, under-arm hug and starts to say something, but I just wave and walk away. I mentally high-five myself for lasting exactly one hour and think about how 30 year-old Lily wouldn’t be any different than me and most of my friends.

#ratherbehangingwitha4yearoldthandating