First Internet Date - A Major Success!

...if you define success as not throwing up on your date. In order for you to fully appreciate a recap of Monday's lunch date I need to take you back to Saturday.

Poolside day drinking quickly led to night drinking, friend making and I'm pretty sure there was some dancing involved. Skip to Sunday morning. Me, super hung over on the couch, where I slept unable to make it the 8 feet to my bed, covered in pistachios. For those of you that know me well you know morning's like these leave me with what can only be described as Nick Nolte mugshot hair. Smeared mascara. Drunkenly picked out ill fitting pajamas. As I lay in a pile of spilled excedrin migraine tablets and pistachios, I hear the friendly beep of my blackberry signaling receipt of a text. I happily open the text unaware that I am unleashing the first in a series of unstoppable events that will lead to a date so bad the guy I went out with has probably decided to give up on internet dating.

The text came from my gay (allegedly straight) ex-boyfriend neighbor. It read, "Hey, are you home? Do you mind if I stop by?" We spend a significant amount of time together so this came as no surprise and I quickly responded, "Bring chai tea lately and mcnuggets" . Along with a follow up, "10 piece pleeeeeeease". A few moments later there was a knock on my door and I yelled for him to come in. Before I could set in on how effed up it was that he was mcnuggetless, he stopped me and said that we needed to talk. Sensing it was something serious I sat up, picked a pistachio off of my arm and shoveled several excedrin onto the coffee table. I looked at him all decked out in his church clothes and immediately I knew. I said to him, "You have a new girlfriend". He nodded confirmation.

Keep in mind I was probably still a bit drunk at this point.

Initially I went into my crazy super fake voice and spouted off something about how happy I was for him, how kind and considerate it was of him to tell me about her, and that I looked forward to meeting the whore face (I probably just said "her"). From there the conversation went something like this:

EXBF: Why are you being like this?
Me: Being like what? (Still in super fake scary voice)
EXBF: Being so nice and fake.
Me: Oh, I'm sorry. Would you prefer I be honest? (Still in super fake, now even scarier voice)
EXBF: Well…I dunno…yea I guess so.
Me: Oh, okay. Well then go fuck yourself.
EXBF: Umm…okay.
Me: This news doesn't bother me in the least. I'm only a tiny bit disappointed that you didn't come over and finally admit you're gay. I mean what the hell could she have that I don't have? (I then pointed to myself, Nick Nolte hair and all). Whatever it's never going to work out anyway because you're still in love with me, obviously. That's awesome though, that's great. Tell me about her.
EXBF: Well she's not a nurse. She's a nutritionist from Nashville.
Me: (Under my breath but not really) A nutritionist? Like an under-qualified nurse slash cafeteria worker? (I know that doesn't even make sense nor is it funny and I really have nothing against nutritionist whores)
Me: (Rolling around mumbling things) Just get the eff out of my apartment.
EXBF: Okay, well…that went well all things considered.
Door slam. End of scene.

So after that happened I had to start drinking again, obviously. Repeat Saturday night but with more drinking, more dancing, and more patriotic funfetti cake. I returned home around 5:00 AM just in time to catch 2 hours of sleep before waking up to begin what would be hours of vomiting along with other super attractive intestinal issues. Next thing I know it's 10:30 and time to get ready for my lunch date at noon. I manage to change out of my clothes from the night before and wash my hair. Things are looking up! My friend feels sorry for me and so he agrees to drive me to the date since I'm pretty sure walking the 6 blocks to the restaurant or taking a cab will lead to more vom. He also let's me know before dropping me off that he will come pick me up if I throw up on my date or crap my pants. Based on my overall appearance he estimated that there was a 10% chance that one of those things would happen. On that note I get out of the car.

As I get out of a car driven by another guy, I see my date getting out of his car. He notices me and seemed to have some confusion about my method of arrival. I decide to never address that and instead extend my clammy hand in introduction. After saying nice to meet you the first thing that comes out of my mouth is "Yea sorry I'm really, um…tired kind of". To which he replies, "Oh, long night huh?" I actually just don't respond to his comment and dive right into my water then ask (what turns out to not be) our waitress for some diet coke, immediately. The next 30 minutes are kind of a blur but I'm pretty sure I successfully portrayed myself as a drunk whore. And guess what? He was effing amazing. Extremely attractive. Extremely successful. Extremely concerned about my overall state of being.

Did I mention that I dribbled? Yea, I didn't really throw up, but at one point water just sort of slowly spilled from my mouth. I kept my talking to a minimum because the more time I had my mouth open, the more the hair on my arms stood up signaling that at any moment I might throw up on him. Eventually he finished his meal, quickly paid for our lunch, mentioned something about needing to meet someone to do something and peaced out. I would have judged him if he'd played it any differently.

All this time I was thinking this blog would be about the weird shit these internet dating guys do and say when in reality they are the normal ones? I feel like I've entered an alternate universe.

On the bright side, I didn't throw up on him! Which means I can still go to that restaurant! Yay!!

Date #2 here I come!