I hadn't seen my friend G in years. She and her hubby had been "living the life" out on St. Thomas in the U.S.V.I. since College. I'd been to visit once a few years prior; awesome time. It didn't take me long to figure out why they'd been living there. You can't get much more relaxed or care-free than when living an Island Life..... but this weekend they were coming to NYC for a wedding! I was so stoked! It must've been late summer 2008 at the time.
I met them and all their UCLA buds down at a place in SOHO. It was so great seeing her. So many fun people too. Out on the periphery I had noticed a very tall, very handsome boy lurking. He clearly knew some of her friends... G and I spent the greater portion of the night trying to figure out how to talk to him without having to make the first move (girls, you must know what I mean). I needed gum, she said (always trust someone when they tell you this)... so we put out an APB. Funny--- within the first few moments of finally making contact with the hot boy, G's hubby comes in from outside (with all the smokers and tokers) and puts a pack of stick gum right in my face "G says you were needing gum?" Hahaha, timing, as they say, is everything. Nothing like wearing a sandwich board that says "I have bad breath" but I might as well have been!
We exchanged numbers that night. He worked in finance and lived on the west side. Subsequently, we exchanged a few emails and made a date for the following weekend. I was very excited. Tall dark and handsome.... yes, please ;-) Sign me up!
I had decided to take things slow after dealing with Southerner7 (previous post). I was going to take things VERY slow with this new guy. AND, at 6"4, I was SOOOO excited to be able to wear my heals with him. I may seem obsessed with tall, but I can't help it. I simply don't like being with guys who are shorter than me... it makes me feel so Amazonian.
Let me cut to the chase... we went out on 5 dates before I even remotely "put out". We had been dating for over 3 weeks before this kid even got to second/third-ish base. In that time, I had found out that his maternal grandfather was the founder of Pillsbury. Yes, his mother's maiden name was Pillsbury as was his middle name... and the dude went to an Ivy league. He was hoity toity with a capital HT!... and he owned his own place on the UWS.
After many many dinners and a little kissing... I learned that not only was he very fond of making sure everyone knew his middle name was Pillsbury.... he liked to act like it annoyed him when people actually acknowledged it. It seemed to me that a good way of avoiding the latter was by keeping his "pie hole" shut about his legacy in the first place!! I can't stand those people who act burdened by the very things that they brag about themselves.
By something like our 7th or 8th date, I had decided it was time to see what he had goin' on down town. He had successfully waited and though I was still not prepared for a "homerun" I was definitely ready to "get my man on third", if you will. He had taken me to a Mets game that night... so these baseball puns are somewhat apropos!
I wore the preppiest outfit that my armoire has ever seen! A little white pique polo with a navy crest on the back, little blue seersucker shorts and white gladiators. I topped it off with my faux Louis Vuitton Beverly wristlet. I actually wondered if wearing faux LV would be a total turn-off for a such a blue-blood? Part of me thought, "if he knows this is fake, then he is way too gay", and also," who would wear a real Louis to go mets stadium any way??" I kid you not, on the subway on the way there, he asked me if it was real!!!! What a snobby f*ck, I thought! (To this day, I truly think this shallow m.f. never called again after this date because of that fake Louis... but it could also be what happened in the latter part of the evening as well... more on that in a moment. The good news is that I really did not want him to call!)
After the game ended (by the way, no shock that he had "box" season tickets...) we decided to head to my neighborhood for a late bite. I wanted to change out of my shorts. After dark, seersucker shorts feel more like "hot pants" and I wanted them off!
We made out at my apartment prior to heading to Merchants for a little din-din.... or shall I say "dessert" ;-) ... no, we didn't go all the way... but let me put it this way, he had a man on third at this point. This is an important tid-bit to this story because once we sat down at dinner he was becoming increasingly distracted by his cell phone. Then, at one point, he shoves his phone in my face with a bewildered look and said "my friends all keep texting me this, do you know what it means???" and I looked down and see "BBBLLLLOOOWWW JJJJAAAAYYY" That was the text!!! Was this guy freakin' kidding me?!?!? Clearly he must have JUST texted his friends about our intimate exploits at my apt. a mere 5 minutes earlier and then inadvertently shoved it in my face!!!!! And he had no idea what it meant!? Clueless prick. What a total and complete c*ck-sucker!!! (no, not me, him!)
I was so appalled. I could not get away from him fast enough. I never confronted his faux-pas (unlike he'd confronted my faux-Louis a few hours earlier), I just knew I never wanted to see him again. How crass!! After dinner I said "sayanora" and he went on his merry and perverse way. Thank GOD I never slept with him, I thought.
A few short weeks later, I was attending an Indian friend's bday bash down off Houston St. with my friend E (the same gal pal I was with when I ran into the chef on the night of the prince concert - see previous post) and HE was there!!!!! (Now that I think about it, maybe E has some sort of telekinesis that brings my old loser dates out of the woodwork!!) I have said it before and I'll say it again, it never ceases to amaze me how often you run into the very people you "NEVER want to see again" here in NYC! Either way, amidst the beautiful blanket of brown skinned partiers, I saw his tall white ass. He barely even acknowledged that he knew me. He was with a new tall blonde du jour.... I took pity on her.
I guess no amount of blue-blood upbringings at posh private schools & summers in Santa Barbara can buy you class. This Pillsbury boy might have had dough, but the buck stopped there... he had very poor manners.
It is getting abundantly clearer to me how important WAITING and taking things slow is to this dating scene. It took literally 8 dates for his true colors to shine through... I can't say it enough: make them wait, ladies!
Sometimes you'll find out they really aren't worth the wait before it is too late!
Sometimes you'll find out they really aren't worth the wait before it is too late!
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