Life of the Non-Date

It was late afternoon on a Spring like Saturday and I was going to help out a guy who met 2 times with some writing for his "work". He likes to call it "work" but really he hasn't ever really worked in the type of "work" that he said he does. You see, this guy was an "Actor". Yes I do put that in quotes because he has never really had a paying job as an actor. It would be like me saying I was a "writer" just because i like to write. Nonetheless, he asked for my help and I was there to help.

We stationed up at a local coffee house, cliche, to get started on the bio that he needed for an audition. I gave him the basic layout for the bio and he began to write about himself. Usually in the entertainment world you hire someone to write your bio for you because sometimes writing about yourself you tend to hold back a little out of meekness. He didn't have a problem with holding back. It seemed to come easy to him to write about himself and use all the big big words in the Thesaurus. I had to tone down the word usage so that a human could actually understand what he was trying to describe.

After about 2 hours of listening to him describe himself as witty, charismatic, and charming, it was getting close to dinner time. He offered to take me out to dinner. I thought about passing on the offer but realized that i had shopped a little too much that day so having someone else pay for my meal wouldn't be that awful. I accepted. After all, he wasn't that bad. He was funny and maybe a little charming.


We go to a little Spanish restaurant that I have grown to love. I also chose it because it wasn't too badly priced. It was very reasonable and affordable. As soon as we sit down and receive the menus the first thing out of his mouth was, "Man this is expensive". I thought he was kidding. Expensive? Seriously? Where does he usually like to take girls, Taco Bell. After dating a generous British man for a year who loved to wine and dine me this non-date was reminding me nothing of him.

After we order I got the conversation started. My first question, "Where did you grow up?" That was my first and ONLY question of the night. It was like I created a monster with that one question. He told me all about his life story from birth to college to marriage to divorce to quiting his job to become an "actor" to where he is today. It never ended. On and On and On. Not once did he ask anything about me. I never said a word. It was like watching a movie. He loved to tell me about all the girls he dated and why it didn't work out. Note to others out there: Do NOT talk about your feelings of past relationships while on a date.

But this wasn't a date. I wasn't even really attracted to him. He really didn't have any of the qualifications that i look for in a man. He was 5'7 - Way too short for me. Yes, I am short but that does not mean that I date short men. He was 40 years old. Yes that is only 9 years older than me and wouldn't be as much as a problem BUT he was an "Actor." He quit his somewhat successful job on Wall St to become an "actor" at the age of 40. Ummm, No thanks.

So after deciding to leave the restaurant and not have desert, because he wanted vanilla ice cream with syrup and this fine establishment didn't have the syrup, we walked back towards home. The talking about himself hadn't stopped. Apparently he thought that i was interested because he decides to tell me, "Don't fall in love with me. I am not ready to be in a relationship." I laughed out loud. I respond with, "Oh don't worry. I wont fall in love with you. I promise."

He proceeds to tell me that every girl he has hung out with has fallen in love with him. I really seriously could not believe the words coming out of his mouth. Did he seriously think this highly of himself? I guess so. So after convincing him that i will be OK without him and could pick up the pieces and move on i went home. Alone, without a 5'7, 40 year old, full of himself, wanna be actor. How WILL I ever go on without him.

Married girls: Be happy that you are not out there amongst the freaks.