April 11, 2009

Dating StorieZ - 1

--By Carnivore Cutie in the City

My date with NYCStyle
The opening conversation over jDate started with NYCStyle IMing me and telling me "Hi, you are gorgeous." Well clearly this guy is intelligent and has at least decent vision. So right away, he's getting a response. I review his profile. It's ok. He's 33. Works in Private Equity. Decent looking. Brown hair and brown eyes, so not completely my type but whatever. He says he's 5' 10". (ALARM - how many guys who say they are 5' 10" are really 5' 10"?) So we go back and forth via IM - the usual banter - and he asks me for my number. I give it to him and he calls me immediately. This is a good sign. He has a normal voice. He's funny. We speak via phone two more times - and he asks me out on a date. He asks me what kind of food I like. I'm totally honest and tell him that I really have a thing for tofu. The consistency is just so amazing. Like a white pillowy sponge in my mouth. Sorry - I digress. I tell him steak. He suggests Sparks. Being the agreeable person that I am, well, I agree. Cause that's what agreeable people do. Duh! He then tells me that he will wear french cuffs and cufflinks (in my profile - I say I am a sucker for this). He requests that I wear stilettos. I'm thinking to myself, "Which stilettos do I wear? I have about a jillion stilettos. Because people who are 5' 10" and wear a size 11 can really find a good stiletto."
The date is originally set for Wednesday evening. On Monday morning, he emails me and asks if we can make it for Tuesday. I think to myself....YES! I don't have to worry about what I'll make for dinner on Tuesday! So I agree. Tuesday morning, he calls me and asks if I'm excited. Tells me our ressie is for 9. He'll pick me up at 8:40. He drives. A car. This is getting interesting. So after work and my therapist appointment, I go home and shower. I walk my dog. I do my hair, makeup, and put on a black dress. I'm looking goooooooooooood. He calls, tells me he's running about 10 minutes late - then he calls again and says he's downstairs. Here we go.
First impressions: He gets out of his car. He is not 5'10". His body is not "firm and toned". He smells like he was marinating in cheap cologne for about, oh, a month. Since I am significantly taller than him - I can also see that he has a very shiny, round circle in the middle of the top of his head where hair used to grow (I assume). He gives me a hug and I think he has a semi-boner. Or else his pants are way too tight. And he needs to readjust. But, I really really love steak. So I get into a cab with him, and off we go. I buckle my seatbelt when in the back of the cab. Once I do this, he reaches over, puts his arm around me and decides that this would be a good time to take his other hand and try and run it up my dress. EW. So I'm trying to keep his arm and hand off of me, all the while turning my head to the window (which was open) and breathe in the unscented air. Puppy-style. This dance goes on the entire ride to the restaurant.
I get out of the cab. He opens the door to the restaurant. We have to wait for our 'reservation'. So we go to the bar, where I sit down and order my usual. (Hello - ABSOLUT martini straight up, extra dirty). This order, of course, provokes a "You're so dirty" comment from him. He continues to try and touch me. I continue to discuss the Yankee game, which is on TV, and remove his hands (bad fingernails) from my hip, leg, back, arm, etc. FINALLY we sit to dinner.
At the dinner table, we start to chat. He asks me about my work. I say, "I...." and he interrupts and goes off on some random story. Um, ok. We order. I get the mixed green salad with tomato wedges and sliced steak. He gets the spinach salad and sirloin. More inane conversation about how hot I am and how he wants to live in Argentina with me. The salad comes. We start to eat. He smiles at me. He has green leafy spinach bits all along the bottom row of his teeth. We finish the salads. The steak comes. It's seriously delicious. In the midst of enjoying my meal, I feel something on my leg. It is a foot covered in a sock. It is his. It is gross. I ask him to stop. He smiles (spinach gone). We finish the meal, he keeps putting his hands under the table and grabbing my leg, then wants to massage my foot...I'm asking him to stop the entire time. Dessert. Check. Done.
On the street he turns to me, most likely gets on his tippytoes and forces a kiss. My jaw is strong but not strong enough. His lizard tongue snakes its way in. So gross. I keep my eyes open and hail a cab. I thank him, but since he parked his car by my apt, yep - he gets in the cab too. Same cab situation on the way home. Groping, me removing his arm. I get out of the cab, and thank him again. He tries to kiss again. After my whole, ha ha ha "I'm not that kind of girl" speech he asks if he can come upstairs. I tell him no, I need to walk my dog...goodnight though and thanks again. He suggests waiting for me downstairs so we can walk the dog together. That plan gets nixed.
Half an hour later, he calls me. "I had a great time, next time we'll makeout, ok?"
That's the story of my date with "Socks."