RAD: Drew… Ew. in Open Diary 2001-2018 (Pre-Prosebox)

Name: Drew

Age: 42

Relationship Status: Single, never married, no kids

Occupation: Some kind of computer geek

Length of Date: 2 hours

What We Did: Met for dinner at seafood place of my choosing. Had one more drink (in my case, a soda) at another restaurant close by.

He Wore: Plaid woven shirt over t-shirt. Khakis. Loafers.

I Wore: (Surprise…) casual black dress, black strappy sandals, good hair day!

First Impressions: He got there about 10 minutes before I did and sent a text that he’d gotten a table because the bar was too crowded. I sent a text back asking where in the restaurant I should look for him. His text back said, “twirl around and make silly noises and I will spot you.”

Um.

When I walked in, I spotted him because he was playing peek-a-boo with me by holding up the menu and then peeking over the top of it.

You could audibly hear my heart sink.

Plus, he looked nothing…NOTHING like his fuzzy pictures in his profile. He was at least 60-70 lbs heavier than he appeared in his photos (and he had the nerve to talk about some girl he’d met who was 100 lbs heavier than her profile pix!).

Convo: Strained. Painful. Lots of uncomfortable silence. Plus, the guy was SWEATING. I mean, the whole time we talked his head was leaking! It was not little beads of sweat, either…it was a constant stream that he had to keep wiping! When our food came, I wolfed it down, not only because it was delicious and I was starving, but because he was droning on and on about something and all I could think about were his overactive sweat glands.

And then at one point, he was all, “You are really tearing that dinner apart!”

When the check came I asked him if he wanted to split it, and he suggested instead that he pay for dinner and I could get drinks after. I really wanted the date to end, but said OK because I wanted to pay for something, so I agreed to the deal.

High Point: Our cool waiter who cracked jokes from time to time and really added levity to the situation.

Low Point: Pretty much everything after the peek-a-boo.

How It Ended: After place #2, where he had one beer and I had a Diet Coke, and he told me allllll about the things he likes in a woman (well-educated—PhD level, aggressive, pretty much wears the pants), he told me that he’d walk me to my car. He did, and I gave him a hug that was much too close for my comfort and went on wayyyy too long, and I got in my car and he walked away.

Chances I’ll See Him Again: No. Nope. Nil.

Lesson(s) Learned: Don’t trust profile pictures…no matter how promising they might appear to be. One of his photos is of him on a mountain bike, and you can pretty clearly see how athletic and muscular the guy is/was. It must’ve been a 15-year-old picture. His close-ups were pretty fuzzy. I call FALSE ADVERTISING!!