August 23, 2010

• The world is small…  Celebrity plastic surgeon Frank Ryan (who did all that “great” work on Spiedi) died last week in Malibu and was last seen at the restaurant Neptune’s Net.  Last year I went out on a few dates with this girl, who’s family owns that Malibu staple.  I wonder if she was helping out at the restaurant the other night.  Not related to the story below. 

  The Girl, the Suck, and the Restaurant

  Ever been so excited for an online date that you already know that if you get past date one, you’ll marry her?  I was like a frickin’ pup running and squirting on pee pads.  For the whole week before, I would sit in my cube, look at my phone, look up her photo and smile.  She is sooooo dang cute!  

  On paper, she wrote like a “9.”  She was smarmy, witty, threw around sentences with flair, challenged my online dating manhood, a good tease with some I-own-you attitude.  On digital film, she was an “8.” Megabytes of silly smiles, big eyes, long black hair, classy outfits in social settings with friends.  

  We finally met on a weeknight at a lounge/bar.  It was a trendy little place that wasn’t very packed for happy hour.  I had given her a list of places to choose from, she narrowed it down to two, and then I, down to one.  

  I, the perpetually 10 minutes late one, arrived on time.  She calls five minutes later, panicked and lost.  Calm down, I’m here, I’ll navigate you through the area.  She says, “Can you stand on the street corner or something so I can see where it is?” Sure, I can do that. 

  Eight minutes later, she’s bowling down the street in her car and I hop in, directing her to free parking.  She says, “Hmmmmph!  This was a horrible place to pick.  So hard to find!  Should’ve picked somewhere easier to get to.  This place sucks!”  I haven’t learned much about women in my life, but I did know to ignore the comment, shut my trap, and stayed focused on the task, directing her to the parking structure. 

  “I’ve got a live one!”  We made it inside the place and perused the menu.  She looked disinterested. 

  How anyone cannot find anything they would not want to eat on a New American menu is beyond me.   A huge bowl of the crispiest sweet potato fries for only $3.  Sangria for $3.  Mac ‘n Cheese.  Ahi tartare.  Didn’t you have a hand in picking the place off my list?  Is the point of the first date to meet the person and have a conversation or to have it all your way Burger Queen?  She didn’t scream high maintenance, I screamed it to myself. 

  At this point, all I can do is laugh.  Let’s see, the things I haven’t had time to mention.  We had never talked on the phone before.  When she called on the way there, she sounded a little fobby.  I’m fine with fob voice.  But this totally threw me off, because her written command of the English language was as good as any I’ve seen.  She was a phenomenal writer.  I thought her spoken would be less broken. 

  When I opened the car door, I said, “Sh*t!”  Girl did not look like her picture.  I mean, it was the same girl, but the girl in the picture was an “8.”  I’ve always thought that even if people don’t look the same in their pictures, the worst they could look is “-1.”  In person, she looked like a “6.”  She gave new meaning to “photographs really well.”  If I put up her picture, you would all think she’s very cute.  All my friends thought so. 

  During the night she asked me about how I got various celebrity pictures.  And then it got on the topic of Laker games, and then I told her one of the people I met recently was Michelle Kwan and before I could finish the sentence she says, “THAT BITCH!  OMG, I HATE MICHELLE KWAN!  DOES SHE STILL HAVE THAT HUGE NOSE?”  Apoplectic would be understating it. 

  WHO IN THE WORLD HATES MICHELLE KWAN?  Apparently, my date hates Michelle Kwan because when she was a fatty freshman at UCLA (has since lost 40 lbs), Michelle was matched up as her roommate along with another girl.  Michelle ignored her fat ass and would never look up from her computer to say hi to her.   

  • Her:  That bitch Michelle, she never talked to me the whole year, then one day my boyfriend who was visiting from out of town was in the elevator with me and she was in the elevator with us and started flirting with him.  THAT BITCH!
  • Me:  Really?  Ha ha ha.  Was she flirting with him because she wanted to steal him, or was she flirting with him just to make conversation?
  • Her:  Well, he wasn’t my boyfriend, but he was my guy friend.  Probably just to make conversation.  But still.  THAT BITCH!

  Who would’ve thought hot date could’ve been so opposite.  A charming writer, a foodie, super cute and pretty turns into a barely above average looking “6″ with a fobby voice, exagerated stories, and a high maintenance attitude.  She wasn’t high maintenance monetarily, but she was the Mount Everest of social and emotional attention demanders. 

  I knew it was too good to be true.  I walked her back to her car, then ran back to mine.  Who cares about a goodnight kiss… get me out of here! 

  • 12:00 pm
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