Confessions of A Naughty Girl

The Most Boring Date I've Ever Had, And By The Way Nigiri Is Fascinating

I had a date a few nights ago. I'd have written about it sooner, except for that I couldn't even make up my mind about what to say. It was pretty f*cking boring.

I sat through drinks, sushi, and lame conversation. He was actually insanely good looking and nice, but truth be told, I was more concerned with the Braves getting their asses kicked by the Phillies -- and I wouldn't even consider myself to be much of a sports fan. I found myself dying for my friend CK to call me, and in true "Sex and the City" style, say "Something very bad happened!" I would reply, "Oh no! Something bad happened?" and run out of the restaurant.

I can't really pinpoint exactly what it was about him that bored the shit out of me, but I knew I'd spent longer periods of time questioning the purpose of eating raw ginger with sushi. That can't be good.

The whole time I was thinking about what a waste it was to have spent a tireless hour flat-ironing my hair enough to achieve "supermodel swing" on a guy who couldn't hold my attention span for longer than three minutes.

After what seemed like an eternity, I packed my shit up, left him with an awkward side hug and a hanging question about going out again this weekend (clearly he wasn't as bored), and was off faster than a prom dress. I went home, watched two episodes - back-to-back - of Gilmore Girls on DVR, ate a cookie, and had more fun in the last half hour than I did the entire first part of the night. If every date I ever have from here on is like this, I'm going to adopt myself a shitload more cats and buy myself a housecoat. No sense in fighting the stereotype, right?

Dating is a miserable, but necessary evil. It's just too complicated and there are too many things to consider: careers, friends, ambitions, political beliefs, family goals, sex drive. I wish we could just go back to the days where a first date was replaced with a note asking if you'd go with the person, circle one: yes, no, maybe; a happy relationship was one in which both parties were playing Red Rover at recess, and each date ended with a kiss by the monkey bars.

posted by KA @ 10:02 PM