The one where the bird flew into my head

May, 2013

I had had it with Match.Com by this time. I had gone on about 4 dates. I met one really nice guy named Jesse. We went on about 7 dates.. we got along really well and he was good looking and funny – but for whatever reason, it went nowhere, it kind of went into the boring zone and then he just disappeared.

A few others were completely unremarkable and I had lost all hope in the Internet Dating game.  So, I went onto Christian Mingle. If you ever think Christians cannot be weird. Think again.

So this guy and I start chatting, he was ok looking from his fuzzy profile picture. Nothing amazing. I decided hey let’s bypass the superficial for a minute and see if “ok” was ok – to get some conversation going.

We chatted for a bit and he seemed ok.  After a few chats, we made a date to meet at Tempe Market place – Bar Louie. This was my date place –I would always suggest meeting there. It is very public, close to home and close to the movies, after my date went wrong (and it usually did) I could just go watch a movie and forget the whole thing in a Large popcorn and Big screen entertainment!

As I pull up to the restaurant and park my car, I see he sent another message, I glazed over it quickly in case it was to cancel, but it was a long rant about God knows what. 

So, I go into the restaurant and grab a seat on the patio. Check in on Facebook, text my friend, Nicole, letting her know where I am and sent  her the profile pic of the guy I was meeting. Standard operating procedure in woman dating world. 

The guy walks in – he is about 20 pounds heavier in person, sweating like a pig, I mean sweat circles under his arms, and his shirt is so small the buttons are busting open. Already, I know – no matter what he has to say. There would be NO second date. Sorry. That is just how it is!

I got up and greeted him, he wanted to hug me, but no thanks. He didn’t even smile when he saw me.  The waitress comes over and we order drinks.. STRONG Mojito for me please and I order a small salad. 

The entire time trying to listen to this gross guy waffling on about his ex-wife who left him for some Russian guy.. there was a little string on my tank top that kept bugging me. In between drinks, bites and me pretending to be interested, I pulled and tugged, trying to be inconspicuous.  After about 15 minutes, I realized my tank top had unraveled and I now sat there with a big fat hole under my arm pit!

I turned to look at the damage just in time for the guy to ask me: “Do you speak in tongues?”.   Caight off guard with foot in my mouth, I said yes, why?  And at that moment, a pigeon flying merrily onto the patio flew straight into my head getting its feet tangled in my hair, I was freaking out and laughing at the same time, flailing, my arms around to get rid of it, exposing my torn up tank top. I was a mess!  But somehow the whole thing was so hilarious to me I couldn’t stop laughing. The guy.. he didn’t even crack a smile.

He paid the bill and said, “speaking in tongues is wrong it is from the devil and If we are gonna get married, you cannot speak in tongues”. And I was like NO PROBLEM there! It seemed as if he wanted to get into a theological discussion about speaking in tongues, and though I am always up for a good intellectual Bible debate – this sweaty pig had over stayed his welcome.

I got up, said thank you and started to leave, when he said, so when are we going out again?

All I said was thanks. No. bye. Then he started texting me bible verses and how rude I was for not giving him a second date.

To illustrate how unremarkable this date was – I cannot even remember his name and his phone number is now BLOCKED!