If you continue to read this blog, you will quickly figure out how much I love match.com. As in about as much as I love going to the gyno. You think maybe this time it will be different, maybe it won't be as painful and awfully awkward. Yet every time that speculum is shoved up your lady parts you moan and think to yourself "self, this is just like last time!" This is how dates set up from match.com go. (When they happen at all, but that's another post in itself.)
So, where was I? Oh yes, my affinity for guacamole. I had been chatting up a seemingly fine also 30-something gentleman on match.com. Seeing as how I don't give names out, he shall hence forth be referred to as Fatty Avocado, or FA for short. So, FA and I e-mailed back and forth (so high tech, I know I'm fancy) for a couple weeks then exchanged digits. This is how it goes in the world of internet dating. We chatted on the phone for the first time and it was great. Now, I am going to toot my own horn here for a minute, but I can talk to just about anyone so maybe the conversation was great because I'm freakin fantastic, but it appeared to be going well. We set up a meeting! There is this wonderful place that is known for its guacamole and since we had talked about my love for it (yes, somehow that does come up in conversation) we decided to meet there and get a sampler and drinks later in the week. Woo hoo! A date!!!
A few days later I showed up looking cute as ever (I'm adorable, deal with it) and pumped to try some good guac we met outside and headed to the bar. I ordered a beer because I'm not one of those froo froo girls and we ordered our sampler. Now, I must emphasize here some stats about myself that are hard for every woman. I'm not stick thin, and I don't belong in a Calvin Klein ad. I'm am on the smaller size of the height spectrum, but I'm roughly 130lbs (at the time). I am a size 6, I have some curves but I like them. I'm a woman, so of course, I always think I could lose a few, but I don't think anyone would call me fat.....or so I thought......
After some casual conversation (I'm basically holding the bar here people, FA is giving me nothing to work with), we end up talking about the guac. Yes, talking about our sampler. Clearly we were entertained with each other. Anyway, our conversation goes like this:
FA: Do you know how many calories are in guacamole?
Me: Nope, not really, I guess I never really thought about it, I just love it.
FA: Well, its a lot. I just think maybe it wasn't the best choice of things we could have gotten.
Me: What do you mean? (grabs chip and scoops big heaping spoonful and shoves in mouth....daintily of course)
FA: I mean, do you really think you need the extra calories?
Me: Hmmmmm, YEP! (shoves another bite in mouth and excuses self to bathroom)
I sat in the bathroom for a while thinking wait, did he just call me fat...no, he had to have meant something else...no one would tell a girl she was fat let alone ON A FIRST DATE...isn't this when we are supposed to be making a good first impression, what else could he have meant...did I leave my beer out there...shoot, what if he is putting a roofie in it, no that can't be right because if he wanted to sleep with me HE WOULDN'T HAVE CALLED ME FAT...yep he definitely called me fat...oh God I'm going to be alone forever, I hate dating...I want another beer, oh and some more guacamole, crap and now that I'm thinking about guacamole I want Chipotle, mmmmmmm I love their bowls, sometimes they make my stomach hurt though when I eat too much, it's kind of like when I take my medicine on an empty stomach...shoot did I take my medicine this morning what if he wants to sleep with me and I forgot to take my BC, oh wait that's right he doesn't want to sleep with me because HE THINKS I'M FAT...that a-hole, he has some nerve. It's clear my stream of consciousness was awesome that night.
I should mention here that I never went back. I sat in the bathroom until I was sure he got the hint that I was in fact not returning then went to the bar, grabbed another drink with the fabulous gay bartender who was like "Girl, that was the worst date ever!" I got the name of the place he got his amazing glasses from and headed home....to eat a real dinner. I needed more than just guacamole. I actually think I may have drank my dinner that night, food is overrated after a bad date, champagne however is your friend.
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