I could see my first date approaching me and my BS detector was already pegging in the red.
It was the way he walked.
Was he going for a swagger like Mick Jagger or a drunk pimp limp? It was kind of a mix of the two. Or maybe he had an injured leg or a bad case of hemorrhoids.
No, that wasn’t it.
Now, I could see it plain and clear.
His ego was showing.
The man was full of himself.
Not a good first impression.
I eyed his name tag.
Julian.
You don’t see that name too often.
Please impress me, Julian. You’re not off to a good start.
Julian took a seat, leaned back in the chair with his legs spread wide, like he was trying to air out his junk. He glanced at my name tag. “Interesting name. How do pronounce that? Wreath? Like a Christmas wreath? Or is that Reth like Seth Meyers?”
“It’s Ruth, actually. It’s a typo.”
“Ah, I get it. Well, tell me something good, Reth.”
“Pardon me?”
Was he not listening? I looked around, wondering if this was a joke. This guy was supposed to be a business professional. He didn’t exhibit any type of behavior to suggest he knew a thing about business or sitting etiquette, for that matter.
“You know, tell me something about you. Anything.” He checked his watch.
What was he doing?
Was he bored already on a three-minute date? Did he even want to be here?
“Do you like to swim?” Julian obviously wasn’t patient enough to wait for me to respond.
“Love it,” I answered, even though it was an odd question to start off with.
“One piece or bikini?”
I blinked, wondering if this guy was a pervert.
Maybe he carried women’s underwear in his pockets.
“You know, do you have any preference on swimwear?” he added.
Another ridiculous question, but I wanted to see where this was going. “Bikini.”
“Excellent choice.” He checked his watch again, but this time he pressed a sticky electrode pad to the side of his neck where he’d had his fingers earlier. It was connected to a wire that he plugged into his phone.
What the heck is that and what the heck is he doing?
He looked up and saw me watching him. “Please continue. You were talking about your bikini. What color and how skimpy are we talking here?” He eyed my cleavage.
“What exactly are you doing?”
He kept his fingers glued to his neck where he stuck the electrode pad. “I know we’re not supposed to talk about work, but I’m a very successful app developer. Made over a million last year, after taxes.” He grinned. “Ever heard of the Diggity Dog app?”
“No.”
“What about Diggity Dang?”
“No.”
“Dag Diggity Dapitty Doo?”
“No.”
“Hot Digitty Daggity Doggity Dogone Doo Bop De Doo?”
“No.”
“Dang Dong Dung—”
I held up my hand. “I’m obviously not the target market for your apps and you still haven’t answered my question. What exactly are you doing? What’s with the contraption on your neck?”
“I’m monitoring my heartbeat for arousal.”
I just stared at him.
“It’s the ultimate sign of a connection between a man and a woman. If you can get my heart rate up to a hundred and thirty beats per minutes, we’ve got a good thing going on here. For instance, when you were talking about your bikini, my app showed that my heart rate went up dramatically. Great sign! That means I am attracted to you and want to hear more of what you have to say. But when you were telling me that you hadn’t heard of any of my award-winning apps, my heart rate dropped. Bad sign, but it’s early. Go ahead, keep talking. I can’t test my app if you don’t talk.”
Julian opened his legs even wider, like he was a construction crane wanting to pick up something.
“Please close your legs.”
He shook his head. “What’s your problem?”
“I’m the one with the problem?”
“Do you have PMS or something?”
“It’s not PMS, it’s you.” It was time for me to end this charade. “Can you sing?”
Julian hesitated. “I’ve been known to carry a note or two.”
“Yeah? Can you hit the high notes like Mariah Carey?”
“Of course not. That would be impossible for a man.”
I eyed his zipper. “Not if I kick you in the nuts real hard. Care to test out my theory?”
He finally closed his legs. “You’re a freak, you know that?”
“Of course. I’m the one who’s a freak.”
Julian stood. “I’m outta here.”
“Hot diggity dog, I was hoping you were going to say that.”
He walked toward the bar and, thankfully, out of my life forever.
Like clockwork, my bad luck with dating continued.
I sighed, wondering why I just couldn’t meet a man like Nick.
I froze, a little freaked out that I’d had that thought.
I took a big swig of my Heineken, trying to get him out of my head.
Fortunately, the bell rang.
“All right! Mark your score cards!” the host said.
I wrote negative one hundred points next to Julian’s number and left the box blank where I was supposed to say if I wanted to get his contact info.
Hell, no.
“Okay, men, listen up! Please move to the next table on your right and good luck with your next date! I hope you’re all having fun already!”
“The time of my life,” I mumbled to myself.
The next man approached my table, wearing what appeared to be a fancy Italian suit and carrying a thin black leather portfolio.
He sat down and held out his hand across the table. “I’m Gustav. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Reth.”
I shook his hand and smiled. “Thank you. You, too. It’s Ruth, by the way. It’s a typo.”
I guessed I was going to have to repeat that twenty times today unless the host got me a new name tag with my name spelled correctly.
Gustav shook his head in disgust. “Typos drive me insane.”
“Me, too.”
Okay, it was small victory, but we already had something in common. As long as he didn’t check his heart rate and let me know if he was aroused, we were off to a good start.
Gustav pointed to the table he had just came from. “That last date didn’t go well, unfortunately, but it was my own fault. I arrived late because my GPS stopped functioning as I was driving here. I took it for granted and it failed me, but I take full responsibility because I was supposed to update the software a couple of weeks ago. Luckily, I stopped and asked for directions and didn’t miss too much. And here I am!”
I just stared at him.
Sitting in front of me was a man who admitted when he was wrong and actually asked for directions. Two of the qualities I was hoping to find in a man, even though I knew the odds were better that I would spot the Loch Ness Monster.
I needed to take a picture of Gustav.
He was a rare man and he now had my full attention.
Maybe I was finally going to get lucky and meet a decent guy.
He squeezed the black portfolio in his hands. “Sometimes the small chit-chat of a date can get in the way of what’s most important to successful business people like ourselves.” He opened his portfolio, pulled out a slip of paper, and handed it to me. “Here are my qualifications, as well as my investment portfolio. This can help you make a quick decision as to whether or not I’m worth your time.” He winked. “I think my investments and net-worth speak for themselves. Let me know if you have any questions or need me to expand on anything that you see there.”