Marine- 36. Divorced. 1 child (lives away).
I met the Marine a few weeks ago for a drink. He was cute. We talked a lot about football. Guys seem to like that I like football…. But this guy talked about it A LOT. It bothered me at first, but hey, it’s a first date. We’re all grasping for commonalities to talk about, I reminded myself, and decided to accept a second date.
This time I met up with him closer to his place in a quaint historic town with lots of restaurants and bars. It’s a place I had only been to 2x before but had been enchanted by it. I was looking forward to seeing him again and getting a chance to see him in his “element”.
Pulling into his complex should have been my first clue. It was a little rougher than I had expected. Reminded me a little of some of the major cities I had previously worked in and his neighbors were all outside, on a random Wednesday (I had off that week from my job)…many of them with beers in hand… a few called out “Hellos”.
Entering his apartment should have been my next clue. Sparse furniture. Reasonably clean and near. Marine paraphernalia everywhere. Kitchen counter completely stocked with more liquor bottles than I could read in the 10 mins scanning time I had.
I sat down and he offered me a drink right away, a Yuengling, in my honor…and we waited for a cab to come pick us up.
My next clue should have come when I watched him kill 3 beers and do 2 shots before we got in the cab… but whatever, it was his day off.. who am I to judge? We got in the cab, headed down to the main drag of the town and stopped at one of his favorite bars to eat and drink.
It was somewhere in the middle of the meal that I realized that I was not only uncomfortable but sorta over the date in itself. I walked off to the bathroom, texting another dude as I went, and when I returned he was on his 3rd drink. It was official. I was uncomfortable and slightly irritated. You don’t have to drink to want to be around me… so this was going to be a problem.
We left and went to another bar, sat outside and continued to talk…he continued to drink. Finally I said, “You’ve had a lot to drink already.” I was teasing, but not really… and his response, “Well, you’re from MYHometown, you can handle it.” I looked at him for a second before I replied, “Yeah, I can handle drunk guys… it doesn’t mean I want to. And actually, I think I’m going to go.”
He called a cab… while we waited, he went back into the bar to have another drink– which he had to chug because the cab got there fast… and drove it back to his apartment with me.
Needless to say.. we weren’t going to be getting together again.