Life Is A Dumpster Fire

Some dates are just destined to be failures.

I had this romantic fantasy once that the ideal date would begin in a bookstore, where we would drink coffee and maybe pick out books for each other. We would fall madly in love with each other, live happily ever after………………

That is different from how it went.

I already had plans to go to my favorite bookstore, and there are restaurants in the area.  Set the time for six, but I suggested we meet at five and look at books. I think subconsciously, I was trying to set the stage for the above romantic notion.

I was early, and he was late, so I migrated to the second floor. I let him know where to find me. No seats were available, so I sat on the floor to look through a book on identifying mushrooms. I was so engrossed in the book that I wasn’t paying attention when a man walked up and said my name.  

Because I was there early, I went to the second floor and looked at books on mycology/botany. There were no seats, so I sat on the floor to read, and I let the gentleman know where he could find me since he was already running a bit late. I was engrossed in the book that I had picked up. I did not recognize him when he walked up to me and said my name. I thought to myself, how does this person know who I am? I would have to call this being catfished because he had used pictures from at least six to seven years ago. I accepted this because I understand it’s difficult when dating and visually needing to make a first impression, and it’s hard for some people to deal with the fact that they are getting older in appearance. I should also say that he was wearing black moccasin boots tucked into tight black jeans, a tight polo shirt tucked in, and a baseball cap. Suddenly, I was on a date with a man who looked older than my dad and was dressed like the Tiger King.  

He took the lead and headed straight out of the bookstore, and when I say out of the bookstore, I mean quickly! He was not interested in looking around. It almost seemed like he was afraid the books might attack him.

Once I caught up with him outside, I suggested walking across the street and eating at a diner. As we headed to the restaurant, he mentioned that it was the Super Bowl. I had realized that this was happening today, but I was not going to pretend that I cared and stated that I wouldn’t say I liked football that much. Before I could say anything else, he said he didn’t like watching football since it became so political, and he supposed that I might enjoy seeing Rihanna; however, he didn’t care to see that. At this point, I’m picking up some weird vibes, like we may not have much in common, like a sense of social justice or respect for women. However, I have committed to being here and am hungry. Conversation throughout the meal was varied. He did make several comments about liberals, hippies, and Democrats. Sweet hippie Jesus, he never must have read my profile. At one point, he referenced me as sounding like an intellectual, though it didn’t sound like he meant it as a compliment. Once I started hearing some of his belief systems, I felt like I was on a date with my dad, but my dad is way more interesting.

The day it took an even stranger turn as he continued to comment about hippies and liberals and then told me that no one should say bad things about America because it’s the greatest nation in the world. I decided at this point that I would do away with my filter. It was apparent that he probably used terms like woke and woke media and snowflake. So, I proceeded to explain to him about the institutional racism of our judicial system and the prison industrial complex, and the militarization of our police force. I also brought up the racism that surrounds football.   I have never actually seen someone pay a check so quickly. As we left the restaurant, I explained that college football was maintained by a level of poverty that requires young men to physically damage themselves to attend college because, for some reason, he thought maybe we would catch the second half of the Super Bowl.

I voted for just walking back to the bookstore across the street. He told me he thought he could date him one of those “book chicks.” I feel like he was referencing me.