The Israeli: Part 2

Comment Cards. 

One of my dating coaches, lets call her Slick, said that we should be able to give feedback at the end of a date.  Good kisser?  Conversation level?  Hygiene? Politeness?  I think this is a great idea.  Such a great idea that I did some research and found a website called Rate My Date.  It covers all of these and more!  It is limited to online dating though.  You type in a guy, or girls, online dating profile name and can rate them and look at how they stack up on the dating scale.  It’s genius.  After my second date with Vespa, I would have loved to give him a comment card.  He would fail on all accounts.  

Name: Vespa, again, I don’t know what I was thinking

Date 2: Kosher Japanese Steakhouse

He asked me to meet him at 9pm.  This is really late for me, plus it was a 90 degree day, so I was exhausted by that time.  Again he wanted to meet on a corner, I walked there and he was late.  Strike one. 

Again he wouldn’t tell me where we were going, but I knew there was a kosher Japanese steakhouse near the corner we were meeting, so I assumed that was the plan.  I decided to go bare shoulders, in defiance of him not telling me where we were going.  Plus the dress I wore was already sweaty from wearing it all day in the heat.  I don’t like doing laundry. 

The place was so interesting.  It was a hip, Japanese restaurant, with big booths, good music, a big bar area- and all orthodox Jews.  Some women in wigs, some total hipsters, guys in skinny colored jeans and yarmulkes.  I wanted to take out my camera.  I had never been to a place like that before. 

Anyways, we sat there, without talking- just him STARING at me.  Finally he asked what I wanted to drink.  I ordered wine, he ordered a mojito with no sugar.  We sat and sat and there was little to no conversation.  This would be strike two.  On the second date conversation should not be a struggle.

I was really uncomfortable and kept trying to engage him.  I asked questions (I am very good at this), I talked about anything I could think of; hobbies, movies, sports, his job (he had a lot of trouble describing this, maybe car broker is a front for some other shady operation.  I wouldn’t be shocked if it was).  I asked what the hell he does in his free time since he doesn’t have any normal interests.  The answer is nothing by the way, he does nothing!!  I asked him to please talk because I was feeling self-conscious.  He said he is quiet and just stared at me.  Really stared, creepy stared.  Googly eyes.  This went on for pretty much the whole time.  I asked him to stop, but he wouldn’t.  He said how much likes my company, I can’t figure out why- I wouldn’t shut up.  We talked about food, he licked his fingers more.  I told him I ate 3 bagels during the day, he acted appalled, so I said, “just kidding, I only ate one!” (Not true at all.  Over that whole week I probably ate 10, that’s just an estimate though).  He said how he doesn’t like to eat late- I like to eat at all hours.  He finally ordered edamame, no salt, and a spicy tuna roll (I don’t like spicy tuna rolls, but he insisted it was good. It was.)  That’s all.  We shared both.  I kept thinking about the Tofutti cuties in my freezer at home and knew I was having at least one when I got home.  It takes more than a shared sushi roll to fill me (or any other normal human being) up.  This is strike three.  Feed me, please.

He walked me home.  Then he stopped on my street to kiss me.  It was the slobberiest kiss. Ever.  I wiped my face after.  Some of my friends gasped when I told them I did this, but I don’t want someone else’s spit all over my face.   He asked if it was too much salvia.  I know this is so gross, sorry.  I told him yes, way too much.  He kept at it though.  I finally stopped him, using the excuse that a lot of people I know live close by and I don’t want to be inappropriate on the street.   The kiss is strike four, five and six.  It was awful.  I haven’t responded to any of his calls or texts since the date.  I was told “that’s what happens when you go out with a guy you meet on the street.”  He really did seem ok though, and he was nice, just a total snoozer. 

Flash forward to the next day.  I had a red spot on my face and my tongue was swelled up and hurt.  I was positive Vespa had given me a disease from his slobber.  My friends said it was a zit, and that I probably ate something that gave me an allergic reaction.  I am not convinced.  Stay tuned; I will keep looking for any other suspicious outbreaks.

In summary… no meals, crap conversation, gross kiss, late to meet me and not polite.  It’s rude to spit on people, and rude to give (unconfirmed) disease.  I bet the allergic reaction was from him, still counts as disease, even if it went away in a few hours.   I really would have loved to give him a comment card.  Fail!