When I first moved to Los Angeles, I didn’t know many people, so in a misguided attempt to help me out, this older woman I had worked with at Connecticut Public Television set me up on a date with her daughter.
Things went off the tracks almost immediately when she resisted meeting me at the restaurant, instead suggesting I actually pick her up. And this was even though she lived on the west side and I lived in Hollywood. For the non-Angelenos, that’s about 15 miles and it takes almost sixty minutes in rush hour traffic.
So after driving all that way, waiting in her living room for almost ten minutes with her stupid dog while she “finished getting ready”, we finally left around 8 o’clock.
When we get to Carl’s Jr., she doesn’t even try to pretend she’s not shallow and totally disappointed. “I suppose you expect me to take you to some fancy restaurant, huh? Yeah, sure. I drop thirty bucks on dinner, for what? A peck on the cheek? No thanks.” I didn’t actually say that to her, but believe me, I was thinking it.
I spared her my “letter of intent” speech, because she seemed like the kind who wouldn’t sign it anyway, so I walked up to the front and ordered my meal. I turned around and told her she should order now if she was expecting me to pay.
So she orders a combo meal and I immediately put the brakes on that, explaining that I already ordered chili fries and don’t really want the fries, so she should just order the burger by itself. Then I will scrape the chili off of the fries, take the fries into the bathroom and rinse them off.
Voila! I’ve just saved almost two dollars!
Well, she gets this look on her face like I just punched her grandmother in the crotch, but I ignore her and repeat the order back to the girl at the counter, this time, without the unnecessary extra fries.
I hand her one of the water cups and she tells me that she actually wanted a Diet Coke. So I say, “Hey Princess Diana, you’re getting Sprite!” Again, I didn’t actually say that, but everybody knows that if you put Sprite in a see-thru water cup, nobody can tell that it’s not actually water. Try that with Diet Coke and see what happens.
We sit down with our food and I start scraping all the chili off when she has the nerve to ask me if I’m serious. Here I am, going to all this work so that she can have fries and she’s going to be rude to me?
Well, I showed her. I told her I wanted to eat my chili first before I went and washed off her fries, which I kept just out of her reach. Then, when I was done, I took the fries into the bathroom and ate them all by myself on the toilet.
I didn’t really feel like making small talk anymore, so I snuck out the bathroom window, walked the long way around so I wouldn’t pass any windows and took off in my car.
That was easily the worst date I had ever gone on.