The 10 Minute Man 01/22/2010
I just had the shortest date in history. It lasted all of 10 minutes, tops. My gut told me not to bother. My head said, I’ll never find “the one” if I don’t put myself out there. I must have received half a dozen emails, at least, from the Minute Man before I finally responded. He wasn’t bad looking, he was tall and he had a good career. I suppose it was his ego that got to me. He promised me a good time and said he would “spoil” me. However, even those proclamations weren’t enough to get my attention and keep it. The moment the words “You’ll fall in love with me” and “I’m a catch” came out of his mouth I knew our pseudo relationship was doomed from the start. I immediately had flashbacks fromNigeria 2 and we all know how well that turned out. In our phone conversation I felt like I was being interrogated. He bragged about his career in film making and living in Hollywood. It was almost as though he were measuring me up to see if I was good enough to justify bringing into his lifestyle. I made no apologies and tried to end the call. I was most certainly even less interested in meeting with him now after speaking with him than before when I had been inundated with his promises that after meeting him things would just get better and better. The whole time I was thinking “If you are so fucking perfect then why are you single and on Match.com?” He called me a few times after our initial phone conversation and I received a few texts. I was slow in my responses, if I even bothered responding at all. I figured he would just give up. A little lonely and desperately trying to get somebody else out of my head I finally relented to a meeting. I called him up and thought maybe a second conversation might not be that bad of an idea. What if he actually was a decent guy? I would never know because I might not have been in the best mood the first time we spoke. However, the moment he called me “darling” and “sweetie” I knew that my initial reaction of the Minute Man had been correct. There was just something “off” about him. BUT…I decided to meet him anyway. Figuring that dating is just a numbers game I thought maybe spending 30 minutes with this guy would better my chances for the next time I went out with a new man. Who knows? I might actually make a new friend. We met at Starbucks. Three minutes after I arrived, he pulled up next to me. I jumped out with a smile on my face. He stalled. I hoped it wasn’t because he was disappointed. He got out of his Jeep and gave me a hug. He stood there with a stupid grin on his face staring at me. I wasn’t sure if it was a pity grin or a grin that he wanted to carve me up and serve with Fava Beans and a nice chianti. He said he was finally glad to meet “somebody so stubborn” as he called me. He asked what I was doing later, where I lived and made small talk about never having been to North Hollywood and how strange it was. Considering he lives on Hollywood Blvd I found the comment retarded and lame. And that was it. He said that he had just wanted to come meet me and that he was back off to work. That. Was. It. We never even left the parking lot. He gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek and got back into his car. I wasn’t really disappointed. After being called darling so many times I truly thought he was a 6’5” black guy on the down low. The only thing that ran through my head at that moment after being dissed was… What a fucking waste of makeup! Comments Comments are closed. |