Ugh. I’ve come to the conclusion that it just must be me that is attracting the wrong type of guys…why else would I be going through nonsense like this?
After getting my hair done (love it P!) I met up w. my fab gf for dinner at this Japanese place near me and tried shabu-shabu for the first time (so freakin’ delish!). Throughout the eve, CB & I had been texting back and forth to figure out a time to meet after my dinner, for drinks. Let’s keep in mind that CB & I (mostly bc of my sched and one time bc he was sick) actually never made it to dinner since we have met, which is fine – not a prob for me.
Since it’s Sunday eve and getting a bit late, CB texts me to meet in his neighborhood at this quaint English pub. Fine, works for me. I get to the pub, see CB sitting at the bar, and we exchange hellos. He tells me how amazing my hair looks (yay!) and we start talking about our weekends.
Somewhere in the conversation, the topic turned to politics, which I love to discuss (who wouldn’t, esp now?) –
HE: “I totally know who you voted for.”
ME: “Why bc I’m a female and I don’t work in Finance, you would assume I voted for Obama I suppose?”
ME: “That’s pretty ignorant on your part, sir.”
HE: “Well am I right?”
ME: “Doesn’t matter, you already made an assumption.”
HE: “Do you even know how long he was a senator for?
Are you f***ing testing me? Are trying to make me feel stupid or something?
ME: “Actually no, I don’t remember.”
HE: “2 & 1/2 years.”
ME: “Ok, do you know who was just elected the chairman of the Republican National Committee?”
ME: “Michael Steele. If you’re trying to make a girl interested you, try not to test her factually. It’s not very gentlemanly-like and honestly, its just not an attractive trait in a person.”
At this point I’m irritated but I’m on my 2nd Macallen on the rocks and it’s calming me down.
HE: “Relax, don’t get all testy.”
ME: “Uhm, sure whatever you say.” (jerkface)
So he realizes he screwed up and is now on best behaviour, giving me compliments, saying nice things and I’m no longer focused on the convo politico. We continue to chat about other things and both of us are on our 4th or 5th(?) drink – not drunk but flirty and actually having a good time. CB has been looking for a new apt and had been looking at places all day. He pulls out his blackberry and asks me if I want to see the floor plan of the place he plans to rent.
The apt is located in Midtown, on 5th Ave and is a 2000 sq. ft. duplex. “Wow”, I respond. “How much is the rent?”. “A lot” he says, not really wanting to tell me, as if it’s classified info. Who cares. Apparently he can afford an amazing place like that so kudos to him.
Now it’s getting late, and we both have to wake up early for work, so CB asks for the check. The bartender hands it to him, CB opens it up and displays it on the table (instead of just opening & closing it, you know how a gentleman usually does it?). I look at the bill – it’s $112.00.
Okay, so that’s not crazy cheap, but I mean we never even went out to dinner and he did invite me for drinks and I had to come up to his area and why am I going on about this? Here’s why –
HE: “Wow, can’t believe it’s this much, I don’t have enough cash on me, do you have a $20?”
Whaaaaaaaaat? Don’t you have a credit card or something? I feel so disgusted right now.
ME: “Ah, yea sure.”
I hand him the $20 and as we head out I share my inner thoughts (plus I’m a little tipsy, so I’m not readily shy about my feelings right now)
ME: “I cant believe you asked me for $20?!”
HE: “Whats the big deal? I mean the bill was so much bc you ordered all those Macallens, what do you expect.”
OMG this is just getting worse. It’s not the actual $20 that is bothering me, it’s that he was acting like Mr. Hot Shot with the apt and all and how about every night when he would call me and tell me about the fab restaurant he was just coming back from – with his buddies??!!
ME: “I don’t understand how you can’t afford a bar tab when you just showed me your next apt, that is prob a small fortune?”
HE: “Well, yea I also have to save up for the apt.”
I say “I have to go” and start walking away from him. He tries to stop me and tells me that “I’m overreacting”. Dude, you are an I-Banker, make 80x what I do, getting this TDF apt, and YOU asked ME out. WTH? I ignore his requests and walk halfway down to my block before hailing a cab (for a mere 4 block cab ride, but my YSL’s were killing me)
I immediately delete his number from my cell. I tell my trusted gf Eva what happened, and with verbal perfection call hims “loseriffic“. Which he is, thank you.
Next morning I get a text from CB: ‘Hey. You were not really mad right? Just drunk? Because that would be obnoxious and trivial otherwise and I don’t really think that’s you.’
In an effort to not seem jaded, I text back a few hours later – ‘Yea, too many Macallens’. He responds with, ‘Yea, bc you’re tiny, you prob couldn’t handle it.’
Oh, I can handle it juuust fine, buddy.
He calls me right after his last text and I tell him I have to call him back bc Im in the middle of work, of which I had no intention of doing. He texts me later in the eve, prob bc I never called, asking what I am doing. I respond with ‘out with friends’.
I’m actually home, I just don’t want to talk to him. Ever. Again.