You know who I don’t like? People who adopt inane, unlivable life philosophy catchphrases and actually purport to live by them. I went out on a date once that could only have been worse had it ended with criminal charges (which most likely would have been murder charges, against me, for ripping his throat out simply to get him to shut up). This particular date was multi-faceted in its nearly comical badness, beginning with the fact that he was 45 minutes late to pick me up from the metro stop. And it was raining. When I got into his car he told me that he hoped I wasn’t mad that he was late, he had been working from home and lost track of time, but that if I was mad, I would get over it.
I’m fairly certain that at one point two guys were hitting on my date and even though he doesn’t swing that way, he was such an attention whore that he ate that shit up with a spoon while I sat by twiddling my thumbs. At one point when we were walking up stairs he slapped my ass. He spent a solid hour telling me, from start to finish, the dramatic story of his ex-fiance and how she came to be his ex. He prodded me for information on my exes (which is a pretty weird first date manuever) and after I mentioned one who had a Hispanic first name, he started interrupting me every time I referred to that ex to say, “Pedro,” which was not my ex’s name. Nothing like a little racist humor to break the ice.
He lived in DC and I live about 45 minutes NOT in DC, so he kept buying me drinks even though I said I was good and reminded me roughly 100 times that I was welcome to stay at his place and shouldn’t even risk taking the metro to my car and then driving from there. You can’t blame a guy for trying to get some ass, but you can arguably blame him for being so obvious about his efforts to use alcohol and a missed metro train to do it. I kept saying I should really be heading home and he kept saying he had one more awesome place to take me to.
The last stop on the awesome train was a bar patronized soley by black patrons, and I am perhaps the whitest person alive. I don’t mean culturally white, although I’m pretty white in that respect too, but I mean I am literally nearly transperent, a la Nicole Kidman, so I have the kind of whiteness that stands out even to a crowd of white people. This guy was white too, and he claimed to frequent the bar, but when we walked in and were the only white people there, time ceased. I know it’s impossible to say this without sounding kind of racist, but I’m really not racist, I really do have friends of every color, exes of every color, etc. Still, we’re talking severly awkward moment here. I wouldn’t have blamed any patron of that bar for turning to his neighbor and being all, “You think these crackers got lost? DC tourists?”
As we stood awkwardly at the bar, he proceeded to tell me how beautiful my hair is and started stroking it, running his hand through the hair around my face. Then he said, “You look really uncomfortable that I’m touching you like this,” and proceeded TO CONTINUE DOING IT ANYWAYS.
The real clincher though was when he started on about his motorcycle and skydiving, then said, “People always think I’m crazy for being such a daredevil, but my philosophy is you have to live in the moment, so I don’ t worry about what might happen.”
This is not a viable life philosophy unless you’re Paris Hilton or you’ve been born into royalty, and even for Paris, living in the (let’s make a night vision tape of us fucking) moment has consequences. You know why living in the now doesn’t work? Let’s imagine my day today if I constantly lived in the moment. I would probably walk into the cute new intern’s office, lock the door, and fuck him on the desk. There’s a glass panel next to the door so everyone walking by would see what we were doing, you say? I say, even hotter. That’s assuming I even came to work today, which I wouldn’t have, because I would still be living in the moment of sleeping my ass in. I would have gone ahead and bought the $435 dress I covet from Nordstrom’s because I wanted it. Credit card bills, you say? Not in this moment, say I. Of course I could probably get away with living in the moment for 30 days tops before collections would be hunting my ass down and that intern would have sent the police to my door. I wouldn’t have any of my degrees because I usually would have chosen smoking pot, sleeping, or shopping over attending class. Or all 3.
Point being, no one can truly live in the moment because we have to do certain things like earn money or go to school or visit grandma even though she’s weird and her last tenuous grip on reality is her relationship with her cats. We do these things because we live in a society that requires them, and we do them so can we get to those special moments worth really living in. But those moments are not every moment of every day, and I hate people that talk about how they live in the now. It’s the kind of bullshit guys hoping to get laid spout to impress a girl by making her think he’s dangerous and exciting and worth boning. It’s crap. From a first date guy’s perspective though, waxing poetic about the value of living in the moment does make some sense. That jackass really believed his own hype, but touting the benefits of making thoughtless decisions with complete disregard for future consequences does seem a relatively sound strategy for a guy prowling for pussy.
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