He told me that when he bought his house, he hired a landscaper to tear everything out and replace it with gravel. • My dates “catch phrase” was a quote from Seinfeld. When we meet, I start to talk about Seinfeld and he tells me he doesn’t watch tv and doesn’t even own one.• A young woman and I got along pretty well in the bar where we’d agreed to meet, but things went downhill when we decided to get dinner at a nearby restaurant.• The seemingly bohemian alt industrial-music dj was still enough of a “nice jewish girl” that she insisted our first meeting be a dinner with her mother at an Italian chain restaurant in the Valley.• I am pretty good at not going out on dates unless I am fairly certain that I have picked someone I am at least a little compatible with, but at one point, I ended up going out with a girl to a cafe, where she had secretly invited her friends, who, it turns out, were mostly just AA buddies, and the next thing I knew, I was at an AA meeting.Our server brought us a bread basket that my date grabbed three of four rolls from and then started playing weird games with.Like, she would scoop dough out of a roll, pound it into a little ball, and then put it back in the basket! Did you ever see that movie ‘Conspirators of Pleasure,’ with the woman who fetishizes bread and snorts dough balls?When I met him at the bar he proceeded to tell me that 1) If we became a couple I would only be allowed to wear my Yankees hats/shirts when I was home visiting my family; never around him; 2)I should not expect him to talk to me while he was watching Redsox games on TV; and 3) we could not get married in October because he needed to keep the post-season available for any potential Redsox trips to the World Series. My first words on our date were: ‘Pardon me, but are you pregnant?• My online date was eight-and-a-half months pregnant. ’ A gay friend of hers, it turns out, had inseminated her with a turkey baster, or so she said.
I kept making, “oh that’s nice,” “okay,” sort of comments and he just kept singing louder and louder. When I got home, I had an e-mail from him saying that we didn’t have any “chemistry.” Chemistry, really? It was the only thing he talked about, no exaggeration, for 70% of the date.On the phone it had come up that he was a Redsox fan — I am a diehard Yankees fan.But I thought a little rivalry could be fun — I have a lot of Yankee fan friends who have married Redsox fans and they both have a sense of humor about it!• I went back to the person’s place after a concert and unwittingly served as passive-aggressive muscle for a drug deal. But when the conversation turned to “future plans” the guy could not tell me much beyond how many dogs he wanted to own at some future time. • Made the wrong comment about conceptual artist Matthew Barney to the wrong art student…It was perilously close to that scene from Boogie Nights. got called a “bourgeois pig.” • He spent one-third of the time telling me about the musical he was writing about raccoons, one-third of the time talking about C , and one-third of the time demonstrating the plot of Othello using the salt and pepper shakers.It was an amazing WTF moment and I never talked to her again.