The Second Choice - A Book & Dating Club

Literally the last thing in the world that I have wanted to do lately is go on dates. However, The Second Choice Book Club is actually a book and dating club, so I felt like I had to; otherwise, I would have nothing to contribute.

Be that as it may, I am still cantankerous af and not in a positive head-space for dating; this is evidenced in the kind of messages I have been sending, when forced to send any at all.

Unsuspecting Victim: Hi! This app says we are perfect for each other.

Me: I don't know about that; you're not the type I usually go for.

Unsuspecting Victim: How's that?

Me: IDK. In my experience, the guys with washboard abs and lots of beautiful women in their pictures are usually self-involved.

Unsuspecting Victim: How presumptuous! Those are my friends! And my abs!

Me: You're absolutely right. I just have zero f***s left to give at this point. Too many bad dating stories to waste my time or anyone else's. Damn, I'm jaded.

Unsuspecting Victim: Men have it hard too, you know. 

Me: IF I HEAR THAT ONE MORE TIME. 

Unsuspecting Victim: Let's make a deal. We meet for a drink. Whoever's terrible online dating story is worst buys the first round.

Me: You have no idea what you're in for. 

FALSE.

It turns out that I had no idea what I was in for. 

This guy -- Isaac-from-Croatia -- proceeded to tell me about a perfectly average date where they chatted about normal banalities over drinks, ending with the woman inviting him to the party she was on her way to.

It was a certain kind of party.

I had a horrified laugh, as I was supposed to, and prepared to concede that he had won the worst first date bet.

But then he just kept going. He proceeded to describe what he saw, heard, and did at this party. He acted disgusted by the experience, but every time I said, "Why didn't you just leave?" he ignored me. It was as if I weren't even there; there wasn't a break in his story, like I hadn't uttered a word.

When I realized this was a well-rehearsed performance event for him and that he was not planning to deviate from his script merely because of questions from me, I quit talking.

And yet, his story continued. I eventually became so uncomfortable that I stopped looking at Isaac-from-Croatia altogether. I stared out at the lake at first, and then eventually down at my lap. All traces of humor had vanished for me, and that seemed wholly immaterial to him. He was determined to describe the entire experience.

I don't know what he expected me to do or say when he finally stopped talking. But what came out was the following:

"Yeah, so my dad's a conservative Christian pastor, and I spent 13 years growing up in religious schools. Nice ta' meet ya."

"That was a very hilarious story I just told you," Isaac-from-Croatia informed me.

"Was it?"

Then we sat there awkwardly. It was my turn to tell a bad date story, but somehow the humor had gone out of it for me. Fortunately for Isaac, there was a striking blond woman sitting next to us who had been flirting with him pretty brazenly, so I think he ended up okay in the end.

In any case, let this be a lesson that when you put negativity out into the universe, it will come back to bite you in the ass. Or, it will at least try to.