A while ago I went on a date with Chase Crawford from Gossip Girls.
Actually, that’s a lie.
It wasn’t Chase Crawford, but he certainly looked like him. Only this guy was even better because he was blonde. He was the perfect specimen of a man and as soon as he got to the bar (30 minutes late), I knew I never stood a chance with him. He. Was. Beautiful.
However, I never even had time to be disappointed because he quickly revealed how much of an asshole he was (there was one point when he actually told me he’s an asshole). The date lasted an hour and 20 minutes and in that span of time I’d gone from wanting to marry him to never wanting to speak to him again.
Ugh. This guy was the worst. He knew exactly how attractive he was, and I could tell he’s probably never been told no by a girl before. Luckily for me and my sanity, I’ve been drug through the mud too many times by hot guys and have developed a set of standards that require more than just good looks.
He’s a beer rep who just moved here a month ago from San Fran. We go to The Cellar. He automatically starts rattling stuff off about beer like I’m the expert and will be able to relate in the slightest bit to this conversation. I’m like, “Dude, you could be feeding me a huge line of bullshit and I’d believe you. I like wheat beer. That’s literally all I know.”
So he shuts up about that. Eventually gets into deeper aspects of his life. Tells me he has two kids. No build-up, just drops that bomb. He just got out of a 5 year relationship a month ago and he has two little girls with this chick. I almost choke on my beer. Serious baggage. Oh! And he doesn’t believe in marriage! Cool…… [check, please?]
He really is a cool guy. On top of being drop dead gorgeous. Which caused me to clam up a little bit. I wasn’t silent but I was also not exactly carrying the conversation. And he called me out on it. Said it was “funny.” I pretty much told him to take it or leave it and if he were to never speak to me again I wouldn’t be that offended. It was a first date, he owed me nothing. He acts surprised and then tells me that he actually likes me a little better right now.
Anyway, after a couple of beers, I loosened up a little more, and we were able to talk pretty easily about things. Dating, relationships, life in general and how much of an asshole he used to be. I’m thinking he still is, but I didn’t say that. Eventually he decides he’s had enough of this date and throws down his credit card. Stands up, then proceeds to tell me I have pretty eyes while signing his check. This causes me to get a little stupid. I blush and choke out a “thank you.” (Let’s not forget how attracted I am to him. Good Lord, he was gorgeous.)
“I’m not hitting on you, I’m just saying, ‘You have pretty eyes.'”
Anyway, he leaves. I leave. I give him a good head start (he’s clearly not the type to walk me to my car, so I don’t want to make things more awkward). I’m fully prepared to never speak to him again. Seriously, I’ve never so desperately wanted someone to like me while simultaneously never wanting to hear from them again in my entire life.
I got home from the bar and saw a text from him, “You should’ve invited me over!”
Yeah, no thanks, bro.