Party TricksPosted: October 17, 2011
“You’re really beautiful,” Adam, my OKCupid date, seductively uttered to me as I went to take a sip from my Rioja. I was caught off guard, instead of putting the glass to my mouth I tilted it and it spilled all over my lap.
I was stained, wet, and slightly embarrassed, yet this was only a marginally awkward moment of our date.
About five minutes in to our get-to-know-you chat Adam asked me to state my strengths and weaknesses. That’s pretty serious territory to tread when one hasn’t even finished her first half-spilled glass of wine. I thought I’d lighten it up by translating strengths to party tricks.
I began reciting pi, I have the first 50 digits to memory. I know not everyone would consider that a strength, few would even call it a party trick but it was the best I could come up with. He didn’t look impressed. “Anything else?” he asked.
I also have the ability to blow my lips together to make a raspberry sound for a crazy long amount of time. I demonstrated. Again, I’m not sure if that qualifies as a talent but I had just met Adam and didn’t feel like rattling off a list of my best qualities.
He crinkled his nose. “Do you have aspergers?” he asked. I shook my head.
Adam leaned in and smirked, “I’m really good at sex.” I then realized he only asked me my strengths so he could brag about his.
“Really?” I asked sarcastically, “Would you say it’s the technique you have down or size?”
He blushed. “Both, I guess.”
“Okay, show me with your hands,” I gestured, “Is it this big or this big or this big?” I asked while moving my hands closer and further apart.
He blushed harder and looked away, “Forget it, I don’t need to tell you that,” he said.
I totally agreed. He didn’t need to tell me any of that. It was inappropriate and although I’m sure it was meant to turn me on, it absolutely did not. “Okay well now that I know bragging is one of your weaknesses what else do you have?” I asked.
“I can be super judgmental,” he admitted. I nodded for him to elaborate, “Like fat people, I hate fat people. I have no tolerance for them.
I cringed at his rude reveal. I looked down at myself, for a moment self conscience that this critical guy may have passed judgment on me. “Don’t worry babe, I already checked you out when you came in. You’re doin’ good in my book.”
He continued down his list of deal breakers: unmanicured fingernails, untamed eyebrows, hipsters, unmade beds, tardiness, and clogs. I was definitely guilty of more than one of those crimes.
I checked the time. Luckily I had arranged to meet friends for dinner. I politely told him I’d have to go, “What? You don’t want to go and make babies?” he asked while making a gesture with his palm and fist that I can only assume was supposed to allude to intercourse.
He walked me out of the bar and tried to lay a wet one on me. My cat-like reflexes kicked in and he got my ear. As I crossed the street he yelled, “Nice ass!” I wasn’t wearing my Booty Pop. For a brief moment I slipped up and felt flattered… then quickly resumed my grossed out stance.