In the March issue of Cosmo there is a statistic that claims 78% of men think a guy should pay on the first date. I polled my friends, my office, myself and the everyone south of the Mason-Dixon line, and we are all in agreement with the 78%. Somehow I wound up going on a date with someone in the 22% (not to be mistaken with the 1%, who I would also like to steer in the clear of).
So the date begins at a burger joint around NYU where he is in Law School. He is wearing construction boots, but I overlooked that because maybe that’s normal when you live in Brooklyn. (After the fact, I realize these two facts, Brooklyn and hideous footwear, should not have been ignored. Rather, they should have been immediate red flags.)
We sit, and the conversation immediately flows, and I think could it be? Could this basically balding, weird-accent boy be my Minch and Shining Kipah?
Following dinner we order a beer, and that’s when the Red Sea began to separate. I chose the beer, which is always a step in the wrong direction since my understanding of beer ranges from Bud Select to Bud Lite Lime. The reason I chose? He didn’t know beers. The reason he didn’t know beers? He rarely ever drinks. In fact, he finds it disgraceful when youngsters our age drink and/or get drunk. (Good thing I didn’t tell him about my plans later that night…)
After we asked for the check, he went to the bathroom for the second time during our date. (Either he had the smallest bladder in the world or he was talking to someone else. Two times is excessive when he barely had anything to drink, and it’s been less than two hours.)The check comes, and I let it sit until he comes back. I fumble through my wallet for what felt like at least a minute. When I finally realized, he wasn’t going to pull the obligatory “I got this” move, I put my Amex card down. We split the bill, and I went into the night, $25 poorer than I started.
I’m not a brat. I don’t go on these dates for the free meal. In fact, I’d rather go for something quick like coffee so I can escape in a short amount of time once disappointed. But the guy should ALWAYS pay until at least the 3rd date!
As we parted, he too tried to kiss me. Sorry son! To quote my innermost thoughts, “This cow don’t give no milk fo free!”
This all seemed fine and well until he texted me mid-week while at work. As a busy bee, I didn’t see it until much later, so I decided to wait to respond mulling over the idea of a second chance. While I was asleep, I got another text asking if I had gotten the earlier text. (Uhm, these are the things girls think when they text boys, but we never actually ask…) I didn’t respond, feeling a little bit odd about the situation.
The next day: “Am I missing something? I thought you had a great time, and you said we should do this again.”
The next next day: “Wow, that’s really rude. You’re just not going to respond. I didn’t do anything to deserve how you are treating me. Wow.”
Okay, I admit. Maybe I should have texted him back after the first or second time. But what was he trying to get at with the last two? Did he think I would feel so bad about being rude, I would go on a second date? The way I see it: He got what he paid for…nothing!
So I went on to the next poor, unfortunate soul in search of a paying NJB.