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.

Cardboard – Survived by Sarah

WHO: We could call him Hanz because he told me, “that’s my fake internet name,” but who cares. We will call him Cardboard for reasons that will become clear later. Also he was about as entertaining as cardboard, so yeah.

WHAT: my first Tinder date. It might also be my last.

WHEN: March 1 2015

WHERE: Downtown Ballard, Seattle. He suggested a really cool bar and restaurant that is both in my neighborhood and attached to a board game store. They have all kinds of board games you can check out and play and it sounded fun. It wasn’t, but that’s not the fault of the location.

WHY: Because I’m throwing all the dating spaghetti against the wall and hoping something sticks

THE DATE
This guy charmed me from the get go. He had funny photos and he was witty and quick and smart and TALL. Or so I gathered from his Tinder profile and the few texts we exchanged. He had this epic photo of a robot costume he made out of cardboard that rivaled those CGI Transformers in the film. The costume was pretty amazing and he seemed goofy. The main concern I had was that some of his photos seemed to feature what appeared to be mutton chops, which isn’t a good look for anyone. Some of his photos were older so my hope was that they were gone by now, or that he’d like me enough to ditch them later. Cosmetic stuff can be changed, I can work with cosmetic stuff. It’s the terrible personalities/shortness/babyhands you have to really worry about.

So we make plans for a Friday evening around 8. We were sending witty texts back and forth and I was excited about this guy. Aside from the possible facial hair disaster, he was cute. He was tall and kinda lanky but not scrawny. He seemed to possibly be a ginger but not uber pale, so bonus. He had funny photos of himself and seemed to not take things too seriously. I didn’t really know what he did for work, but you have to leave some stuff for the in-person part.

Anyway, we make plans. Then the day before said plans (and also on an evening when I am getting ready for a date with someone else), he starts trying to move the plans back later because he wants to go out with his coworkers. He texts, “we work too hard at my job to not go out and have fun.” So I suggested moving said plans to a different evening for two reasons. First, I can feel that him flaking on me evening-of is inevitable, and I refuse to sit around waiting for someone I’ve never met. Second, the third season of House of Cards came out that Friday, so I preferred to spend it with my friend Olivia binge-watching. I could guarantee that would be time well spent, whereas my dating history will show that dates are not.

We move our plans to early Sunday evening. I head down to the place and don’t see him anywhere. I text him to see if he’s there and he doesn’t respond. I just wander around this giant board game store wondering where he is, then I go outside to wait. I see him inside and I go back in. He says, “I was in the bathroom and it couldn’t wait because I had a long bus ride down here.” We hug awkwardly.

He is already annoying me. I can just tell this is not going to be fun.

We go in to the bar and put our name down for a table. The tables are all full of people having so much fun with people they like and I’m jealous of all of them. The hostess tells us we are 6th in line, and I begin mentally calculating how to get out of this. Waiting for six groups of people to finish playing board games just so we can sit down will be excruciating with this person. He is tall and he is a ginger, but luckily no mutton chops in sight. So I guess that’s a plus, but not a big enough one to counteract his personality. Bummer.

Luckily, just as the hostess is walking away, two spots open up at the bar. I suggest “sitting there while we wait” and secretly hope I can just get through a beer with this guy and bail. Unfortunately, the hostess is too helpful. She’s all, “Hey, if you guys just want to play games at the bar there is this handy extra piece that pulls out from under the bar to make a little table.”  Sigh. Thanks a lot hostess.

We order beers and he says, “So, tell me about yourself,” and he puts his chin in his hand and stares at me. “Ummmmm,” I say. “What do you want to know? That’s a big question.” He responds with, “What makes you happy?” I work really hard not to roll my eyes. Really really hard. I tell him, “Well, I really like animals of different species being friends.” He laughs and we thankfully move on. He asks what kind of games I like, and I tell him I don’t like Settlers of Catan. I mention I like pictionary and Taboo and Cards against Humanity. He launches into this long boring explanation about a game that he claims is “just like Settlers but with bug pieces.” I think about reminding him of my previous comment about hating that game, but I would rather just pick something and get it over with so I can get back home to my couch.

I mention that I had been on said couch earlier watching House of Cards, and he practically yells, “I *KNOW* something about that show!” I’m like, “Oh, do you watch it?” He says, “No, but I know something interesting.”

I steel myself. I’m sure whatever he is about to say will neither be accurate nor interesting.

He continues, “You know how it’s called House of Cards?”
Yes obviously, I think to myself. Please move this along quicker.

He says, “Well a deck of cards only has 52 cards. So there are only going to be 4 seasons of that show because there can only be 52 episodes.”

I begin doing some quick math while my hatred of him continues to blossom in new ways. While that math may work out, they’d have to cancel the show next season. Doesn’t seem likely, but whatever.

I tell him, “Well, I’m watching episode 26 in season 3 right now so I feel like you’re probably wrong.”

We move on.

Oh, and did I mention this guy is a video game tester? I am not a gamer, and I don’t mind if other people are, but that’s not who I want to spend my lifetime with. I want someone to go outside with me and do real things. The occasional Candy Crush binge is acceptable, but I’m just not into the video game thing. Even worse was he has that “video game guy” personality. No people skills. Little social awareness. He was also super antsy and couldn’t sit still because the only thing he ever exercises is his fingers. I ask him, “So do you not play video games at home because you’re so sick of them after work?” He responds with, “Oh no, I play them at home too.”

Cool.

So we play the bug game. And I beat him within about 2 minutes. He wants to play again and he beats me in about 2 minutes. I say, “I don’t like this game.” The girl sitting next to me leans over and says, “Do you guys want a suggestion?” I look over at her sort of harshly and she tells us she works there. She tells us about her favorite game there and I immediately say to her, “Well is it long? Like, does it take a while to finish?” She says, “Oh no, it’s quick, like 30 minutes. But if you want you can drag it out for a really long time.”

I snarkily thank her and turn back to Cardboard. He says he’s going to go get the game, and I say, “I’ll stay here.” He leaves and I sigh. I turn to the girl next to me and I say, “Sorry if I was rude or anything. I’m on this terrible date and just want it to be over.” She introduces herself and says, “Yeah, I could tell it wasn’t really going well. Is it your first date?” I tell her yes and she says, “Yeah, he seems weird.” We chat and she’s a pretty new transplant to Seattle as well. Idiot Cardboard comes back and interrupts the perfectly nice conversation we are having. He found the game. Sigh. I keep my back to him and tell her it was nice to meet her and ask if she maybe wants to hang out sometime. We agree to hang at the bar again sometime soon and she gives me a sympathetic look as I tell her I have to turn back to my date.

We play the game which is sort of like Yahtzee but not. If I had better company it would actually have been fun and I would have tried a lot harder. But instead I didn’t try at all and still beat him. The bartender asked if we wanted another round and I said, “No, I think I’m good. Can we get the check?” Cardboard yells across the bar, “Can we pay separately please?” Classy!

I go to the bathroom for a breather. He’s so annoying. When I come back, he taps the bill folder on the table in front of me and says, “I already put my card in there for my half.” I siffle another eye roll and put my card in. He takes the folder and taps it on the edge of the bar at every single employee who walks by. He just keeps hitting the folder against the bar. WHO DOES THAT? Jesus. Someone finally gets annoyed enough to say to him, “Someone will be right over for that.” We separately fill out our receipts and he only tips $3 on a $25 bill.

And he continues to win at everything.

At this point he finally seems aware that I’m not having any of this date. We walk outside and start heading the same direction to our different bus stops. Fortunately, mine is on the opposite of the street. I tell him so and we both mutter something about how it was super nice to meet each other. Bla bla bla garbage talk get us away from each other.

What a waste of a shower.

Editor’s note: The above photo is not his costume and it’s a lot cuter than Cardboard turned out to be in person. I actually went back to Tinder to try to take a screenshot of his outfit to post here, but I had already deleted all his messages because he was so annoying. So oh well. Enjoy the sad robot.