Ick. in Open Diary 2001-2018 (Pre-Prosebox)

Went out with Strange Salsa guy last night. Hadn’t even realized that earlier in the week we’d semi-firmed up plans for last night (?).

Not a good night.

Before we went to the salsa place, he took me to this little hole-in-the-wall bar. It could have been a fantastic time….had he prepared me for what was about to take place. First of all, one dresses for salsa dancing. You know, like something nicer than ripped up jeans and faded-out tees. So we were both properly dressed for dancing. This little bar where we went beforehand was borderline raunch. Fun, yes. But I was so not prepared to stand up on my barstool and belt out old Aerosmith tunes….like he was. And did. In his retarded looking Jim Carryesque way.

So I sat there and drank my beer and smiled at everyone having fun. But no, I did not perch myself up and pump my hips back and forth with the rest of the crowd. I was very uncomfortable. And SSG wasn’t easing my tension.

Finally, we decided to leave and go to the dance club. We walked towards the bathroom as we were walking out, and I stopped to pee. While I was in the bathroom, I could hear everything going on outside. As I was about to open the door to leave, I could hear a conversation being struck between my date and some girl. Basically, he was telling her that I was totally a stick-in-the-mud. And that he’s a financial advisor and then told her what I do for a living and if anything, the tables should be turned…that I should be the wild one singing and dancing at the top of my lungs…..er…whatever.

I flung open the door, smiled my biggest smile, and then told the two of them that I could hear everything that they were saying, and I think he about shit his trousers.

So we walked out to the car and he apologized for what I’d heard, but that it was true. And I told him that I was prepared to go salsa dancing, and I just wasn’t up for whatever that was. But instead of telling him to take me home, I said something about going to the next place and really having some fun, and he was surprised, but game. And a bit impressed, I guess, that I didn’t bitch him out. I mean hell, I figured we were already out, and I wanted to see the place.

So the club he took me to was….eh. But I still sucked it up. We did end up dancing quite a bit. And he was pretty good, even though his moves were mostly swing and not salsa. And I got drunk enough to smile and laugh through the rest of the night, but in the back of my mind I was still thinking about what a dork this guy is.

Took me home, and pulled that damn “can I use your bathroom” move that gets me every time. I can never say no to that one for some reason. So he came inside. Peed. And somehow I found myself mugging with him on the sofa….wondering what the hell I was doing.

I so wasn’t into his kisses like I was the last time he walked me home. Finally, I came to my senses and told him to go.

Ick. Yuck. I’m so glad that’s over.

I hate dating. With a passion.