You have GOT to be kidding me......

Dating is hell. Period. I am honestly trying to figure out why I'm so intent on getting "back into the dating scene" after a particularly harrowing first date on Friday night.

It began innocently enough with exchanged "winks" online. Winks turned into IMs. IMs turned into emails. Emails turned into phone calls. True, there were a couple of minor red flags during these exchanges (do I really need to know about your Poughkeepsie experience during our first conversation? Really?), but I chalked it up to his nerves and bravely accepted his dinner invitation for Friday evening.

I was so excited. First dates hold so much promise! I bought nay one, but three new outfits for the occasion. I changed my hair appointment from Saturday to Wednesday. I shaved my legs. I was optimistic!

We met for dinner at my favorite Italian restaurant. He looked harmless enough....clean clothes, combed hair, all of his teeth......we ordered our dinner and began the ritual of getting to know each other. I said, "so tell me more about yourself." I didn't realize it was a trick question. He asked me for my phone (MY phone!!!) and called a 60-year old, female friend of his in Michigan (I can only assume he didn't want to waste HIS minutes) and said, "hi. I'm on a date, and this lady has just asked me to describe myself. I'm not sure what to say. Can you please talk to her?" I suddenly felt as if this guy was competing on "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire", and he was dialing his Phone-a-Friend!! How can someone NOT know how to describe themselves? Whatever. Strike one.

At the end of our meal, Nervous Guy excused himself to go to the Men's Room. He was gone and gone and gone and gone. I really and truly thought he had ditched me....not that I would have been upset. Since I didn't want to stiff the restaurant, I proceeded to pay our bill ($45). Coincidentally, Nervous Guy returned as soon as my credit card had been processed. I told him that I had paid, and he stammered, "uh, thanks! That's so thoughtful of you." Thoughtful?!?! You asked ME out! Sigh. Strike two.

As we were leaving, Nervous Guy suggested we go to Barnes & Noble. This, apparently, is the height of entertainment for him. I asked him over dinner - "do you like to go dancing?" His response: "No. I tried it once in college, and it wasn't for me." I tried it once in college?? Newsflash: dancing is not a drug. Anyhoo.........we went to Barnes & Noble, and I was immediately struck that he was carrying in 2 black bags. I asked him what he had. His laptop, he responded. Okay. We got inside, found some chairs, and he did, in fact, take out his laptop and begin surfing the internet. He also produced a nifty little cushion to sit on (imagine a cushion used for someone post-keyster surgery). As he's sitting there on his geriatric cushion, playing with the computer, I said, "don't you want to chat?" "No, I'm good" was the response. Seriously? You drove an hour to meet me, and you don't even want to talk to me? Strike three.

At 10:55 pm, it was announced that the store would be closing at 11:00 pm. We were sitting in the back of the store, and I had a purchase I wanted to make. I told Nervous Guy that I'd go on up to the front and he could meet me there. He told me not to worry about hurrying, that the store wouldn't kick us out at 11:00, and it would be fine to stay until 11:15 or so. Um, no. That's just rude. Those people want to go home! Rather than make a scene, I just went on up to the front, paid for my book, and went outside. The manager on duty was holding the doors open, waiting to lock up. She couldn't do that until Nervous Guy (who at this point became Annoying Guy) left the store. At 11:10, I apologized to her, told her to relay to him that I'd gone to my car, and set off for the parking lot, where I had to fight every urge in my body to put my car in "drive" and flee. Annoying Guy didn't come out until 11:15. I couldn't believe his complete lack of social skills and common decency. Strike four.

When he finally emerged from B&N, Annoying Guy suggested that we wrap up the evening at Starbucks. Fine. I figured he could buy me tea and dessert since I sprung for dinner. We arrived at Starbucks at 11:30. Once again, he brought in the laptop and cushion (I was getting a complex at this point). He did pay for my tea, but this is the final point that pushed me over the edge: the total for my tea was $2.03. He handed the cashier a 5-dollar bill, and then took 3 pennies out of the crippled children's fund!!!! That is just tacky!!!!! Strikes five through infinity.

When Starbucks closed at midnight (and yes, he wanted to stay inside until 12:15, but management kicked him out), I couldn't wait to get out of there. I quickly bid him goodbye and good riddance. I had wondered at first why a 40 year old man had never been married. I wonder no more.