ivy dates

Ivy Dates #3: The Best Date Ever

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I was literally about to walk out the door Saturday morning when I got a text from the guy who was supposed to take me out. My feelings about the guy were fairly ambivalent. He’s Ivy League-educated, brilliant, fairly successful, he appreciates the arts. But, about a week ago, he got drunk and sent me a lot of reeeeally obnoxious texts. So, I was sort of like, whatever.

Everybody does that at some point in their lives. Anyway, the text read that his family had dropped in by surprise to visit and he couldn’t take me out. I wasn’t sure whether or not to call bullshit, but he apologized a ton and offered to take me out again so I shrugged it off. I walked back upstairs in my cute sundress with my hair done all nice with no plans until the evening.

“Well, it’s a shame, you look lovely,” my mother said. I laughed. “Want to take me out?”

And so we got in the car and headed out to buy some shoes, shamelessly gossip about people we know, yell along to “Sledgehammer” and Pretenders songs in the car and have one of the most pleasant afternoons I’ve had in a while. So, my best date ever turned out to be with my mother. Go figure.

Ivy Dates #2: A Second Chance?

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So, Mr. Finance texted me the other day asking me if I’d had a nice time and saying that he really wanted to take me out again. 

In the words of the immortal Amy Winehouse: What kind of fuckery is this?

My knee-jerk reaction was just to not respond. I had not had a nice time. But, I replied that I had and hoped it would just end there. But, it didn’t. And, so, somehow, I agreed to let him take me out again.

I promise, followers, I have a few reasons. One, I figure sometimes people get nervous, get weird, get obnoxious, get all sorts of things when trying to impress another person.  So, I figure he deserves a second chance and if it’s really awful that’s that. Two, I can be a little bit of a snob. I can see a few undesirable things about someone and blow other things out of proportion to convince myself that they aren’t the right person for me to try to protect myself from disappointment. And, that’s a little obnoxious.

So, Mr. Finance gets another chance, while I try to figure out how to say no to people.

Ivy Dates #1: No, I Don’t Think I Want to Occupy This

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So, tumblr, I mentioned I made an okcupid account. I’ve decided to chronicle the experience on here because whatever I want to and it’s my blog wah wah I promise I’ll post porn, too.

I had my first date on Saturday. He looked great “on paper”. We met in a fairly large city that he works in and I live pretty close to. It left a lot to be desired.

The date. Not the city.

Among the issues were:

  • 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.