In the future, if I ever have plans with my friends and some dude wants to tag along, I will NEVER say “okay” again based on what happened on this date.
Because that is my time, and you have your time, and you cannot crash my time with your lameness.
I was feeling iffy about The Brit after our first date, but he kept sending me witty texts and I thought he was interesting enough to respond to.
Friday night approaches and he asked me what I’m up to. I told him I have plans to go out with my girlfriends in Venice.
He starts gushing about how much he loves Venice – and goes so far as to ask if he can come with.
Um, sure, okay. No point in being rude, right? Wrong.
Besides having doubts due to his transportation situation (or lack thereof), I ventured out with my girlfriends and he eventually met us after an hour trip on the metro/bus/whatever.
It was a really fun night, my friends loved him and he kept the drinks coming – until it was almost closing time and he whispers, “Um, the last bus is in 10 minutes and I can’t get back to the station that fast. Do you mind if I crash at your place?”
Yes, I did mind. As I’d gently told him earlier, I had a funeral to attend in the morning. Not the best position to put someone in. But even with that, I’m not evil and I didn’t want him to get stuck with a ridiculous cab ride home.
So we went back to my place and I made pizza… that he couldn’t eat because apparently he’s vegan.
He tried to snuggle up with me but by that point the reality was setting in and I wasn’t having it.
I left him on my couch and put myself to bed. I woke up at 8am to hear him pitter-pattering around my living room. Snooping around my photos and knickknacks and such. Ugh.
I started getting ready and realized how drunk I still was.
Try to make conversation with this dude while trying not to throw up and get out the door on time for the ceremony was the worst thing ever. EVER.
I may or may not have vomited in the church. If I wasn’t already, I’m definitely going to hell now.