Vital Stats: 39, 5' 9", Cardio-Somethingist Technician, Persian/French, Living in The Bronx, Aesthetic: He wore lots of gold chains that ran down his exposed chest, which made me wonder--is there a Persian Mafia?
First Date: Appetizers and dessert at Max Brenner near Union Square, late February 2010.
First Impression: Kind, Considerate. He had gotten there early and put his name in, so I only had to wait with him for 20 minutes rather than the full 40.
Signs of Hope: See Above. On a sidenote, it was his 40th birthday two days from our date and when he was walking me to the subway at the end, he told me to let him know if I was available. Sweet, though a little sad.
Red Flags: When I told him I was thinking of ordering a salad, he made a slight sound of disapproval, told me he was getting an appetizer and then said we could split everything. So I got an appetizer, too. When looking at the dessert menu, he pointed to the photo of the dessert he wanted and then said I could get whatever I wanted and we could split it. By this point, I understood how things were supposed to go and agreed to the dessert he wanted. When the waiter came, he ordered for me.
Turning Point: Honestly, the moment I walked into the restaurant and saw him. There was zero attraction. The menu struggle was just icing on the (molten chocolate) cake.
Diagnosis: For him: Definite control issues. The writing was on the, er, menu as far as how his relationships go.
For me: Why do I agree to dessert when I'm clearly not interested my date? It's kind of a problem.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment