Tight Little White Lie
I decided to try JDate at a friend’s suggestion, just for fun. After a few weeks of unsuccessful interactions (some of them frankly terrifying), I found a guy who seemed to fit the bill. He was pretty good looking, well-traveled, and a salsa instructor. The only thing holding me back was that he said he was on the shorter side, 5’6, but I am 5’2, so I decided to go with it. We agreed to meet for lunch downtown.
Apparently the ’6′ and the ’0′ are next to one another on his keyboard, because he was a good two inches shorter than me – and remember, I am no giant. He was decked out in white designer jeans and D&G shades, as though he were about to step into some hip nightspot. I found myself wondering where he could even find such tiny pants. But I decided to soldier on, because appearances can be deceiving.
They can also be spot on. He was boorish, tried to cop a feel almost immediately, and assumed I would follow him back to his apartment after lunch. He told me that he “could read me like a book” and that I pretended to be smart but I was really just “a bad girl.”
He bragged about how much money his family has, and how he can use his connections to get whatever job he wants. Still, he insisted that we split the bill. After he tried to kiss me, I made up an excuse so I wouldn’t have to take the same Metro line home.
This date prompted me to cancel my account. My mother tells me my grandmother used to get out of bad dates by punching herself in the face until she got a nosebleed. Ama, where were you when I needed you most?
