The one with the beer…

After all the concerned responses I received on Facebook after my post yesterday, I have to admit that I’m a little nervous posting this one today. But, if I can’t be a good example – a shining beacon of hope – then I guess I’ll settle for being a terrible warning. Eat your veggies kids! And don’t go on dates!

Just in case you’re wondering, not all bad dates originate when meeting someone online. Sometimes your friends or acquaintances take it upon themselves to set you up. (I am 100% not opposed to that. In fact, I have met several nice people this way – and – if you have someone in mind that you think I should meet, by all means, introduce me.)

But, sometimes…well, sometimes you are left to wonder exactly what your friend thinks of you. And how exactly they came to know such wildly diverse people. Do your friends even know you? Sometimes I wonder if I get set up on these dates based solely upon the fact that our mutual friend just happens to know two single people. (I think that is probably the case 97.5% of the time.)

Such was the case with one date I went on a few years back. I used to belong to a divorce support group. It was a bunch of people who were going through a similar tear in the reality of their life who liked to get together once a month and have appetizers and cocktails. Not such a bad deal when you are trying to figure out what just happened. Anyway, as is likely to happen when you are thrust into a group of people experiencing a similar situation, friendships formed.

Well, one of these friends said there was a friend at work that I ABSOLUTELY had to meet. We had similar senses of humor and were sure to get along famously. So, what did I have to lose? I said he could have my number. (For those of you wondering, why yes, yes in fact this is the time that I learned never to do this again.)

We exchanged a few texts and decided to meet up for lunch the next Saturday. He wanted to go to the Outback by the mall (a different mall than yesterday’s post), and I said sure. So, I show up at lunchtime and meet my lunch date.

When he arrived, the first thing I noticed was his lack of teeth. He was missing approximately three on the top that I could see. But that was soon to become a non-issue when I very quickly noticed his lack of personal hygiene. It was either that, or his cologne left a tremendous amount to be desired in the olfactory department.

Having not been on many real dates in the previous 20 years, and being polite, I did not turn around and leave. I sat down with him and decided to partake in the noontime meal. I did not realize at that point, that it would have been perfectly okay to bow out gracefully (or even awkwardly), and I figured that I needed to give the guy the benefit of the doubt as a one human being to another. I have since come to adjust my stance on benefits of the doubt, but I digress.

In any case, we ordered our lunch and drinks. I had iced tea and he ordered a 22oz beer. He hoped I didn’t mind, but he was nervous. I honestly can’t even tell you what, if anything, we talked about over lunch. Because I was so focused on the beer. Initially it was to take my mind off the teeth/hygiene thing. But increasingly, it was because of the quantity of beer being ingested. He had five.



22oz beers.

At lunch.

Anywho, as we were blessedly leaving, I asked him how he intended to get home. It was then he said he had to drive across the parking lot to the mall and pick up his kids. (Wait. What?!) Apparently he’d dropped them off there to hang out while we were at lunch because it was his weekend with them.


Not only was this drunk fool thinking he was going to drive, he was going to have children in the car.

So, I told him that he could either call a cab, or I would call the police. Or, if he preferred, we could call both and see who showed up first. I was sure that not only would the police love to educate him about the perils of driving while intoxicated,  they’d probably for sure want to talk to him about what was and was not appropriate child care.

Well, you’ll be happy to know, that even though I am THE MOST FRIGID BITCH ON THE PLANET AND OF COURSE MY HUSBAND LEFT ME BECAUSE WHO COULD BLAME HIM along with some other very choice words, the cab was called, and in the end, at least for that day, that smelly, toothless wonder and his children, along with all the other drivers on the road, made it home safely.

And my friend at the support group? Well, we aren’t friends anymore.


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