• He works in finance in a really yucky job where he does favors for horrible people. He is completely and totally unashamed of this.
• Although he said he had picked out a place for us to eat that he liked, he promptly decided upon my arrival that he “wasn’t in the mood for it” and made me pick a place. When I couldn’t decide right away, he became pretty frustrated.
• Two seconds into lunch and he tries to booze me up.
• He smells terrible. Awful. But it’s the kind of terrible that you keep sniffing (1) to make sure it’s him and (2) because you’re almost intrigued by how bad it is.
• He assumed I went to a state school (nothing against public education!!!!!) and started describing his previous academic/current career endeavors to me in an incredibly patronizing tone with vocabulary that was intentionally dumbed down. When it was revealed I go to Ivy University, he sort of just looked at his plate and went, “oh…okay.”
• When the bill came, he grabbed it right away and made a big show of putting his hand up and being the wealthy hero buying lunch for his poor, pretty starving artist date. If he wasn’t such a dick about it, maybe I would’ve vaguely considered agreeing to let him pay. Instead, I told him I’d like to pay my half and joked it was because I was a third wave feminist. He responded, with a completely serious face, “what the hell’s a feminist?" 
• He took me to a gallery and then proceeded to demonstrate he has no appreciation at all whatsoever for the arts. 
• He made weird jokes about my height.
• Whenever I would talk about my interpretation of a piece of art we were looking at, he’d get all patronizing and say stuff like, "how cute, but I think it’s this…” We’d then consult the description. I was always correct. Always. This irritated him beyond belief.
• At one point, I was explaining a movement of art to him and he rolled his eyes and declared that “maybe he should have brought a notebook to take notes”.
• Anytime I even vaguely wandered off-course, he would start criticizing me for it.
• Before he knew I went to Ivy University, he half-joked that he wanted a trophy wife and then gave me a couple of “any takers?” eyebrow wags.
• When I told him he was the first okcupid date I had been on, he told me how fortunate I was. (Should’ve kissed his huge fucking feet right there.)

So, no, tumblr, I will not be taking out Mr. Finance for another date. He hasn’t called, I have no desire to reach out to him, and frankly I’m fine with that. I weathered the day while maintaining my politeness and staying pleasant (I didn’t even drop a single f-bomb), so I think I deserve a gold star for showing up, being lovely and getting to see an awesome art installation for my troubles.