I called him the evening after our message exchanges. At first, I didn’t think I would like this specimen because he talked continuously for many minutes about how cool he is and how people everywhere know him, blah blah blah. Part of the problem is that I am used to being the talker. My listening skills aren’t too shabby, but I don’t enjoy hearing about things that aren’t relevant yet (like his popularity). He also mentioned the Lamborghini again (in addition to two times in his first message to me). Needless to say, though I’ve already essentially said it, he rubbed me the wrong way. He didn’t ask anything about me at all for quite some time. But, after about 30 minutes, he started sucking less. At the end of the phone call, I was mildly intrigued on account of his enigmatic character (because he’s street smart and otherwise intelligent). I was also attracted to the hustler in him (he described several of the companies he’s developed over the years). By the end of the call, we had agreed to meet for lunch on Sunday.
Immediately after that phone call, he sent me a message on the dating site:
Subject: Amazing Conversation
Thanks for the conversation. Look forward to seeing you Sunday :)
We spoke a few other times before we met. Each time he followed up the conversation with a message like the one above. (Dating advice: Girls like that type of shit.)
We never set a solid plan for Sunday. At 7:53 a.m. on Sunday, he texted me, “Morning.” About an hour later, he called. Highlights from that conversation:
Me: What’s the plan?
Mr. Lambo: Well, I wanted to take you to AC because one of my buddies was supposed to be there with Mike Tyson. But, he’s not getting back to me.
Me: But AC is so far.
Mr. Lambo: It’s only 100 miles from you.
Me: 112 miles.
Mr. Lambo: haha okay, 112. I thought it would be cool for you to meet Tyson, though. He’s a good guy.
Prior to meeting him, I had already begun developing Mr. Lambo’s character on facebook. Not surprisingly, most inquiries from facebook friends related to the Lamborghini. I was fairly certain of two things: 1. he wasn’t picking me up in the Lambo and 2. the AC/Tyson plan wasn’t going to come to fruition. I was right on both counts.
He said he would arrive at my house to pick me up around 2 or 2:15. As it got closer to that time, I called him to see if he was on schedule because I was Cinderella-ing (i.e., cleaning) after my beloved huahuas. He informed me that he was going to be late because some road hoodlums had tossed soda onto the hood of his vehicle; consequently, he had to stop to pick up paper towels. He explained that he couldn’t locate an AutoZone. I told him there was one in close proximity to my dwelling. I asked him to dial pad me upon arrival. He did. He said he didn’t know in which house I lived.
I clarified which house. Nevertheless, he didn’t bother pulling up the driveway. I walked down the driveway in my heels only to enter his car and find him on the phone. I said, “Hey.” He said nothing to me. He continued his phone conversation as if there was no MoMo in his vehicle. My first thought was, “Okay. You want to play this game, buddy? Watch and see if I put my device down at all during this ‘date,’ bitch.” After a few minutes, he ended his phone call and looked to me for navigational guidance to AutoZone.
This date was not off to a good start. It got worse before it got better. At AutoZone, he sped into the store with no regard for whether I was following him or not. Notably, he did not bother to hold the door open for me. I’m not talking about opening it specifically for me, I’m talking about holding it open because someone (me) was entering it behind him. At this point, he was registering very high on my what-the-fuck-o’meter. I began “live date status updating” on facebook while he did whatever he was doing in AutoZone.
On the way out, again, he did not hold the door. Rather than a first date, this felt like we had been married for 20+ years and could no longer stand the sight of each other.
I kept my face in my device. He reached into the back seat and pulled out a gift bag and handed it to me. I said, “Thank you.” It contained a wife beater that says, “Girls fight harder.” (He has a clothing line and this was from it.) Then, he reached into the back seat again. This time, he pulled out a rose. This was like some sort of Jekyll and Hyde shit.
To be continued…
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Click here for the initial online dating site exchange with Mr. Lambo.
Click here for Part I of Mr. Lambo’s rendition of the facts of the first date.
Click here for Part II of Mr. Lambo’s rendition of the facts of the first date.