Mercury is in retrograde this month. If you’re into astrology or you were a fan of A Different World you know what this means: shit gets really fucked up. For example, Smurfs was #2 at the box office this past weekend, I got more dislikes than Adonis on SBM on Friday, and I went on two dates in less than a week. Considering that I hadn’t been on two dates in the last year, it’s safe to say that the world has gone mad.
Both of the men with whom I went on these dates were new to me, and both of them could best be described as cornballs. You know the type – quiet, unassuming, don’t swear or get dirty, don’t dress particularly well…they’re just not flashy. There doesn’t seem to be anything particularly offensive or egregious about them, but it’s also hard to remember anything about them five minutes after they leave the room. To bring it back to a classic max-logic post, they’re just regular.
It should go without saying that under normal circumstances I do not fucks with cornball dudes at all. I usually refuse 95% of all overtures made to me because I can tell within 5 minutes of meeting a man whether I can rock with him or not. But since things have been a little quiet on the romance front in my life lately, I thought I’d try a little experiment in which I’d give a different dude a shot.
Let’s examine the results, shall we?
We’re going to call this guy Harry. I met Harry at a friend’s house party a few weeks ago. As we always do, everyone got a little rowdy at this party once the liquor was flowing and the music was bumping. Except Harry. Harry was so quiet that none of the friends I was with at this party could remember who he was when I told them that I had a date with him the following weekend.
We made our plans via text message – he asked if I wanted to catch a movie and I asked if I could pick what we saw. He asked if there was something in particular I wanted to see and I said no – I just wanted the right to veto his choice if he picked something I didn’t want to see. He said “lol okay you can pick”.
Date day comes and he picks me up. We’re headed in the direction of downtown and I ask where we’re going. He says I thought we were going to see a movie? And I’m like yeah but where? He doesn’t know – because he has no fucking plan (I’m writing a post called “Dear Men: Have a Fucking Plan!” soon. Look out for it). I pull out my Flixter mobile app and ask what he wants to see.
I’m thinking to myself “Please don’t say Planet of the Apes. Please don’t say Planet of the Apes. Please God don’t let him say Planet of the Apes”.
He says “Planet of the Apes”. Fuck my life.
We head to the theatre and I’m explaining to him how much I do not want to see this movie. I tell him I saw the trailer and did not like. I tell him that the poster scared the shit out of me. I tell him that I talk about and watch movies for a living and I really don’t like to spend my free time watching shit I don’t want to see. He is unmoved.
We get to the theatre and I’m like really, let’s talk about this. Is there anything else we can see? I suggest Crazy Sexy Love (no – that’s a chick flick isn’t it?), Friends with Benefits (HELL no!), Hangover 3 (Are you CRAZY?), Horrible Bosses (I almost had him there but I let it slip that I’d already seen it and he shot me down). I suggested every other movie under the fucking sun and the guy would not budge. So I caved and he promised I could pick the movie next time. Yeah, right.
The whole time this is going on I’m thinking to myself, aren’t corny guys supposed to be a lot more…malleable than this? But we see the movie, it’s retarded but we have a good time. He brings me home, tells me he wants to see me again, and then proceeds not to contact me for four days. Four fucking days?!? Call me crazy but I think that’s way too long to wait after a first date. Any fool can see you’re just clinging to the four-day rule. You’re fooling no one. So he texts me “hey how are you?” and I respond and he never answers me. Seriously?
We’re just gonna call this guy This Guy. Because truly I have no words to truly describe how unbelievably corny this guy was. In my defense, I met him while he was working and he was wearing a uniform so I couldn’t get the full strength of his corniness – although the fact that he was wearing dress shoes with no laces (that I’m pretty sure were pleather) gave it all away. But he stepped to me in a very polite, very respectful, very complimentary way so I gave him a shot.
We made plans to meet at Starbucks and this motherfucker shows up in Jesus sandals. Jesus sandals Negro? Do I look like the kind of woman you can walk the street with in Jesus sandals? I should have left right there but there was no smooth way for me to accomplish that.
So we head into Starbucks and get in line. I’m in front of him and I order a bottled water and a tall Americano. It comes to $5.48. And because I’m ahead of him, I have no choice but to reach for my wallet to pay for it. I pull out a $5 and now I’m digging through my enormous purse for the $0.48; holding up the line as I keep assuring the cashier that I do have change and I’m not some degenerate who can’t afford her beverages. This guy is standing there watching me with a Naked Juice and a fucking $20 bill in his hand! But does he offer to give me the $0.48? Nope! Does he say – oh let me pay for this, I’m the one who asked you out? Nope! He stands there and watches me struggle and then pays for his juice like…I don’t even know what.
I should have left then. But then I would have missed this next part and it’s my favourite part.
We sit at the table and he begins to make conversation by mentioning to me that he is turned on by stretch marks and black knees.
Stretch marks and black knees? For real? I started looking around for a hidden camera. But apparently I was not on Hell Date. Except that I was.
Anyway, The date continued for about an hour and a half before I was able to extricate myself. I walked him to the subway and he promised to “give me a ding later”. A ding Negro? That’s how we talk? Corny motherfucker.
Needless to say I never heard from him again. And while I’m in no rush to speak to this cornball in this lifetime, I’m offended at the idea that someone like him would dare not contact me again. Who the fuck does he think he is?
So my experiment with cornballs was a resounding failure and I am now officially off them. I am going back to being the kind of woman who can see the end of the story before it even begins and just skips it altogether. Because if I’m going to go on dates where I can be forced to watch shit I don’t want to see and pay for my own coffee I can just stick to my hot boys, because at least they have the good looks to back up their shitty behaviour. These corny dudes…if they’re not worshiping me there’s just no point to them existing.
Am I wrong? Speak on it in the comments.