"I Want My Friends To Think I'm Sleeping With You"

It’s been a while since I’ve told you guys about one of my bad dates, hasn’t it? Trust me, just because I haven’t talked about them doesn’t mean they haven’t been happening!

Well, I now have a new favorite bad date! A guy that my friends and I now refer to as "the one percenter" blew the competition out of the water. It wasn't easy to find someone who topped the conceited guy that I went mini golfing with and it was a near Olympic event to find someone who could steal the gold from Sparkles, but have no fear people, I found the man that beats out the rest. He is the much elusive "one percenter," and I, Eden Strong, had the pleasure of going on a date with him.

Now without further ado, for your reading pleasure, I bring you, THE ONE PERCENTER;

A couple months ago I got asked out by a seemingly decent guy. Based on first impression alone he didn’t seem like someone that I would have been interested in going out with, but my friends, who are always looking out for the “basics” of my best interest, were impressed by his job and his supposedly great family.

So because I am intrigued an idiot, I decided “aw, what the heck, I’ll bite.”

He TOLD me that he was taking me out for dinner and didn’t ask my opinion before choosing a place that was an hour from my house. I wasn't super pleased but I'm not one to get bent out of shape over something minor, so I didn't say anything and just let it go. As I got nearer to the restaurant I was having a little trouble finding the place amidst the outdoor mall it was located in, so I gave him a call for directions. He navigated me there and as I pulled into the overfilled parking lot I saw him waving at me from the doorway of the restaurant. There weren’t any open parking spots in that particular lot so I ended up parking two lots over and walking back to the restaurant.

When I got to the front door I didn’t see him anymore. I stuck my head in the door and looked around the waiting area, which was empty, and then I headed back outside where there was quite a crowd, thinking that maybe I just hadn’t seen him outside.

After standing around for a few minutes I went back into the restaurant and yes, I hadn’t seen him, but no, he wasn’t outside, he was inside the fairly empty restaurant where he was chatting on the phone with a friend.

“Oh sorry” I said making my way to the table. “I didn’t know that you had come in already, I was looking for you outside.”

“Yea, I didn’t really see any point in standing outside and waiting for you since it looked like it was going to take you a while to walk over here” he replied.

I wasn’t really sure what to say to that, but thankfully I didn’t have to come up with a response because before I had even had a chance to wrap my brain around what he was saying, he interjected my thoughts with “although, if I had known what your legs were going to look like in that dress, I definitely would have waited just to watch you walk that body over here.”

Um….ok…..on that note….awkward….

The waitress appeared and handed both of us a menu. I open mine and begin looking at it, half to see what is on there and half so that I don’t have to look at him as my mind is contemplating whether it is too late to bail.

Once again though he breaks the all too brief silence with “hey, so I know that I asked you out for dinner, but I already ate and you don’t look like you eat much anyways so you probably don’t want to eat either, right? I’ll just order you a drink, I know what your type likes.”

Seriously, where are the cameras? Where are they? This guy cannot be for real.

“Uh yea actually, I’m starving, so you don’t mind if I get something do you?”

His response? “Oh, yea that’s fine, I can totally afford it."

Because that's normal....

Seriously, who says something like that? Probably the same guy who basically tells you that you look anorexic. 

The waitress comes back to the table and I engage her in conversation for as long as humanly possible in an effort to avoid having to talk to the weirdo dude. When she inevitably departs, the weirdo dude excuses himself to the restroom, but only after telling me that he pee’s a lot because he is very conscious about flushing toxins from his body.

Well if that's not attractive then I really don't know what is.

Please see also: At this point I'm considering becoming a lesbian.

While he is gone I take a minute to do a little soul searching. “Can I leave? Would I leave? How horrible would that really make me if I actually just left? Could I really get all the way back to my car before he came out of the restaurant looking for me? Would this be something that might give Satan a little more edge in determining where I will be spending my eternal vacation?”

Too late, weirdo dude is coming back. I know he is coming back because I hear him whistle at me FROM ACROSS THE RESTAURANT.

Everyone looks at me, I look at no one.

From the corner of my eye I see a few people looking embarrassed for me and inside I die a little.

As he gets nearer to our table he actually says to a table of men sitting nearby, “check out the legs on my date!”

I am livid; livid and disrespected. I seriously cannot believe this guy!

At this point I’ve had it, I want out. I get up to leave and AGAIN, before I can say anything, he interrupts my thoughts with “hey would you ever date that guy” and points to a heavier set man sitting against the wall.

Hello? Are you not wondering why I am now standing up? Is it normal for women to stand up while they eat dinner with you just so that they have a running start if they feel the need to flee your presence? Because I can assure you, I’m not standing here just to burn calories from my slim and assumed anorexic physique.

“I don’t know” I reply in the most irritated tone possible. “I don’t know him.”

“Ok, but would you date a guy with an ugly beard like that?” he says as he points to a man with what I consider to be a well groomed beard.

“I have no idea, why are you asking me that?”

“Alright, well look at that table” he says as he directs my line of vision to a table with three guys who are having drinks. “One guy is clearly an idiot based on his idiotic clothing and the other two are just idiots because they are hanging out with him. Would you ever date them?”

At this point I have slung my purse over my shoulder, am still standing next to the table, and yet weirdo dude just keeps talking as if he does not notice my impending departure.

“You see, I can tell that you are a classy girl. You know what you want and you are out to get it. You don’t want to date losers like that because you want a fine sirloin. I know that I’m in the 1%.”

Ok, this is just so weird that I cannot help but bite. “1% of what?” I ask him.

“1% of eligible bachelors. I’ve never been married, no kids, great job, and good looking. I am in the top 1% of desirable and available men.”

(Insert hysterical internal laughing on my part)

You have absofreakinlutely got to be kidding me. No way is this guy for real. No. Fucking. Way.

Oh no, but wait, there’s more!

He continues on, me still standing at the table like some completely expressionless store mannequin, pretty sure that if I move even a muscle I will fall apart into a pile of hysterically laughing mannequin pieces, where I might actually need to be pieced back together before being able to get to my car on my own.

“Now you see, I’m throwing myself a $100,000 dollar party” he continues.

Now it’s my turn to interject. I just simply cannot help myself. This date is turning out to be one of the best stories that I will ever get to share with my friends and I must have all the details for future dramatic purposes.

“What is a $100,000 party? Like a party that cost you a hundred grand to throw?”

“Oh no” he replies, as if I’m the idiot. “It’s a party that I am throwing myself to celebrate the fact that I’ve finally saved $100,000 in my 401K.”

Oh, my bad. What was I thinking? That is completely normal, if you are absolutely psychotic, which clearly he is. Why wouldn’t you throw yourself a party so that you can brag to all of your friends about how rich you are?

Again there's the no-time-to-ponder-how-absolutely-bizarre-this-is moment before he continues on;

“So as I was saying, I’m throwing myself a $100,000 party and I’d like to have a date by my side. Now because I’m in the one percentile I don’t normally lower my standards to dating women that have children, mostly because I don’t really feel like it’s my responsibility to deal with your past mistakes….”

(Right here my brain screams "oh no freaking way did he just say that.")

“…... but based on your appearance alone I would be willing to make an exception in your case. I definitely think your legs bring up your status a bit.”

I wait until he is completely done talking, which quite honestly I’m not sure will ever happen, and then I begin to talk.

“So basically, what you are saying, is that you are a ridiculously egotistical man who has yet to find a girlfriend that wants to keep you around, and yet surprisingly still has friends; although they most likely only like you for your money. Even though I do not meet most of your required standards, the fact that your friends will think that you get the privilege of having my legs wrapped around you is cause enough to throw caution to the wind, ignore the fact that I have birthed two little mistakes, and make an exception for me? Yea, sorry, I don’t remember signing up for that delusional plan and I’m just gonna get outta here so as not to waste any of your time, time that could be better spent convincing the next pair of brainless legs of how truly awesome you think you are.”

He just sat there. At least I was considerate enough to give his brain a little time to process what I had just said as I turned around and walked out of the restaurant so that he could ponder that alone.

Be careful ladies, as far as I know the one percenter is still on the market.....



Photo Credits
Moron
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