Dating: DON’T DO IT

Chris Brown has turned out to be quite a disappointment. He seems like a very cool guy. I really appreciate this because I often have conversations (online or in person) with men that make it seem like I’m talking to a doorknob; Captain Khaki Pants, for example. Chris Brown is a colorful character though, so he’s pretty much the opposite, and we’ve been text messaging frequently. What then, has made him a disappointment? Let me tell you.

#1 - When I asked him how old he is, he wouldn’t tell me.
WHOA. This is a sign of 2 things. First, it means he knows he’s too young. This was painfully apparent when he said “It doesn’t matter, I can still get into all the places you can!” Honey I don’t care if you can get into a bar. I mean, yes I do - but that’s not the only important thing going on here! Second, it means he can tell I’m older than he is by enough to matter, and that ain’t cool either. After I asked him 3 times he said he was 21, but I’m going to go ahead and not believe that.

#2 - He is a mattress salesmen.
Look, people need jobs, and people need mattresses. I understand both of these things, and I’m glad that the world has mattress salesmen. Although, I do tend to buy my mattresses at warehouses where I can hop on them and not be bothered. Anyway, I’m just not interested in dating one. Chris Brown also told me that hes taking a semester off from ITT Tech. Taking a semester off is all well and good, but to me it’s also a potential sign of either faulty commitment, or planning. It’s also a sign that he’s a full time mattress salesmen.

#3 - He sends creepy text messages.
I was in bed reading a book before I went to sleep when I got a text message. After he didn’t respond to a message of mine for 12 hours I thought this was odd, especially when the message said “sleep tight :)” I was mildly alarmed and made sure that my blinds were closed. The following day I joked he must have been spying on me, and he responded with this fantastic creepy mess:

“Id never sneak around you..not my style id rather u feel me there so u know everythings secure :)”

Yeah THAT makes me feel really secure. Good lord.

#4 - Location, location, location
I’m 100% sure that he lives an hour away. I’m 75% sure that he lives with his parents. No. Thank. You.

About a week ago I took a trip to Las Vegas. Immediately you’re mind is filled with visions of grandeur: liquor, hotness, nudity, fun…HAH. Big fat HAH.

I was headed to Vegas on business. This was perfectly ok with me as it made the trip free, and I’m rather riled up about my new job. So, I made a quick hippity hoppity skippity through the baggage and security nonsense, and that is where all my good luck came to a halt. In total it took me EIGHTEEN HOURS to get to Las Vegas. I couldn’t be mad about the weather because I don’t want to die in an icy crash. However, there is one thing I can be mad about, and that’s Captain Khaki Pants and the 6 hours he spent irritating me at JFK airport.

Let’s create an accurate mental picture of Captain Khaki Pants: He looked like your average 40 year old with glasses, except he was probably in his late 20’s: generic white athletic shoes, pleated khaki cargo pants, short sleeved button down shirt, complete with backpack - slung over one shoulder. Let me also be very clear: at no point was I ever interested in Captain Khaki.

Apparently he was unfortunate enough to be booked on the same delayed flights as I was. At first he seemed like an ok guy, so I thought talking to him would be better than spending my time alone. (This thought was suddenly and amusingly interrupted by a very drunk man, vigorously shaking a half empty beer bottle and yelling “WHERE’S THE PARTY!?!” to which I responded “IN VEGAS!”) The first sign of trouble with CK was when I was repeatedly asked: “Heyyy, so… is it ok if we hang out?” Literally, just like that. Being asked once is fine I suppose, although I don’t know how I could have said “No, I’d rather sit in an airport alone for 6 hours.” So, I said sure, babbled about my exciting first business trip, showed him, nay…GAVE him, one of my new business cards, stupid stupid stupid, and then after about an hour or so of this crap, we went to get margaritas.

It was at this point that things went terribly sour. It turns out he was going to Vegas ALONE, for vacation, for two nights. How lonely do you have to be to do that? Damn. I was extremely puzzled by this, and thoughts of legal prostitution began to meander through my head. I really wanted to ask why he was going alone. Are all your friends broke? Do you have friends, like, any? That would ever vacation…anywhere? I’d rather go to someplace crappy with fun folks than someplace awesome with nobody, you know?

It had become clear that he was very dull, and I was very bored. We had been staring down at the lower level of the airport people-watching for some time when he said “I’m glad that the bad weather and everything happened because I got to meet you.” and looked at me like a puppy. Ugh, I writhed with awkwardness. Are you KIDDING!? The whole day completely sucked, and he thought it was just dandy because he got to MEET me. Noooo, no, no. He actually said the exact same thing again TWO more times before I was able to escape from him. Ick.

I realized that somewhere along the way he had missed a mandatory class on nonverbal communication. My responses were not positive - obviously. They consisted of looking uncomfortable, and changing the subject. This was also my defense when he said “I find you attractive.” Call me immature, but I’d rather hear “You’re hot!” than the former. It wasn’t like I said “Hey, am I pretty? It was more like mmmmargarita! la la la I’m not listening to the weird guy, and then suddenly he thought I was attractive. What really sucked is that I was completely TRAPPED, and I’m way too nice to just chew him up and spit him out right then and there. I was clearly someplace where I didn’t know anybody else, you know? It wasn’t like I could leap up and yell “Shit! I just remembered I have a dentist appointment!” and bolt off toward the duty free shop to purchase a cunning disguise. What’s a girl to do?

So then I made the mistake of saying I was excited to take a nap and I was stocked with earplugs and my glasses. He looked disappointed and replied “Aww, you must be so tired.” and TOUCHED ME comfortingly. DO NOT TOUCH ME. Then for some extra fun he said “You know, I could take a nap too, but if we could sit together on the plane I wouldn’t take a nap.” Well guess what, I’m already asleep on the inside. Then he randomly leapt on an unsuspecting woman and made her take a picture of us. He made her redo it twice too cause the pictures were blurry. Ugh.

I got on the plane and discovered that the two seats next to me were empty, and Captain Khaki was only a few rows in front of me. I hid. Here I am a grown ass woman on a business trip, and I’m scrunched down hiding from some weirdo on a plane! By the time we finally got to Vegas I was so totally exhausted I didn’t speak. He made a few attempts at talking, I just told him I had to find a cab.

“Ok well call me sometime.” (he gave me his phone number)

I told him I’d be too busy working in Vegas.

“Ok well call me when you get back to Maryland.”

[NO]

———————————

UPDATE: Oh you sweet, sweet, mess of a man. Captain Khaki Pants emailed me. Subject line? “Hey airport friend!” In his email he used the terms “calculate” and “airport fun”. Riveting. I am not responding.