Honk

I was tucking into my Chicken Big King from Burger King at a red light this afternoon when the woman next to me started yelling and going bonkers with her horn. I rolled my window down to see what she wanted.

“Where’s mine?” she shouted.

Where’s what? I just gave her a blank look. Usually when people want something at a red light, it’s either directions or permission to cut in front when the light changes. “I said, where’s mine!?” she shouted louder. It took me a minute to realize she was referring to my sandwich. Yet I still couldn’t produce a witty response. I continued gaping at her instead. “Have a sense of humor!” she yelled and gave me the finger as the light turned green and she drove off.

So it was that kind of a day. Either that or people like Burger King more than I realized.

Anyway.

I landed three dates this week, a feat which lands me in the annals of history. That’s more dates than I’ve had in my first 28 years combined. All three were from OKC. This first one was on Monday with the Talker.

The second was last night with Golf Girl. We enjoyed an overly competitive game of mini-golf in lieu of the real thing, and talked for an hour and a half over drinks. I’d asked her out even though I didn’t think she was my type (the septum ring didn’t help). But we had a great conversation and I was surprised to find we had more in common than I thought. And she was hot.  Oh yeah.

We talked until she had to leave for work (she works overnights at the hospital). I told her I had a great time and would like to see her again, but she gave me a “meh” in response. That really surprised me, especially when I thought we’d hit it off so well. Then she said, “we’ll see.” Yeah, I know what that means. So that was a little disappointing.

Date number three was tonight with Brooklyn Girl. She’s a hardcore dancer, which is obviously what got my attention. I picked out a time and place, I took a train and two subways to get there, but when I finally got off at the right stop I realized I was running a few minutes late. Shit. I called her to tell her I was almost there and she said it was okay.

Fast forward ten minutes. I saw her standing outside the lounge as I crossed the street, but once she saw me coming she folded her arms and started walking down the sidewalk. I called out her name but she didn’t respond, so I jogged to catch up and touched her on the shoulder. She just made a face at me.

“I’m just going to go home actually,” she said.

“Wh- huh?? Just like that?” I asked.

“Yeah… I’m probably going to go out dancing tonight. I’ll see you later,” she said.

“All righty then. Have fun,” I called after her. She just shrugged her shoulders and kept walking without even looking back. Meanwhile, Fuck you too! is what I really would have liked to have said. But I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of seeing me angry.

I wasn’t particularly enthused about meeting her in the first place because I got the sense that she might be a flake, but I was definitely NOT expecting that. Seriously – who does that?? She left me standing there by myself like an idiot in the middle of the city. Since I was already that far in I toyed with the idea of going into Manhattan, but decided against it. At that point all I really felt like doing was going home.  So I did. That’s five hours of my life I’ll never get back.

But at least the night is ending on a positive note. PYT was bummed about not hearing from me all day, so she sent me some pictures of her naked breasts.

Mmm… yes?

 

First dates:  6
Second dates:  0

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26 thoughts on “Honk

    • Even so, it’s not like I didn’t call to tell her. I did the best I could to get there on time. I didn’t realize the subway would take as long as it did. But to not even give me five minutes is rude and inconsiderate on so many levels, especially when she knew how far I’d traveled to meet her. Took me at least two hours to get there.

      • That’s so terrible. That definitely cannot be the reason. I waited for a guy who was 40 minutes late one time, and two other occasions where the guys were 15 and 20 minutes late. It’s the worst first impression ever – but they were traveling no more than 40 minutes, so there’s no excuse.

  1. You dodged a bullet with that last one.

    Did you ever hear back from that other date you had (the one you danced and held hands with)?

  2. Oh wow, I have always waited for dates that were a little late, especially if they called. Hate to say it, but either something better came along, or she was waiting outside to see if you were worth the wait.

  3. I think the titties were karma’s way of apologizing to you for making you come into contact with that raging bitch of a dancer. I bet she didn’t get any penis sexts that night!!!

  4. You think you’ve got troubles? How about a 56 year old virgin?
    I’m going to die this way! I am going to enter the black void of
    death having never known love.
    Use it or loose it. I never used it so I lost it years ago.

  5. And this could well happen to you if you don’t get on the ball!
    It’s no laughing manner! You DO NOT have all the time in the
    world. You’ll one day look back and rue all your lost
    oppertunities. Get serious before it’s too late for you to!

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