So, it was bound to happen. When you meet someone who looks NOTHING like their internet persona.
I mean NOTHING.
First of all, let me just say, looks are not everything to me. However, if you post a picture of yourself looking like Richard Gere from Pretty Women then show up looking like Mr. Bean then we have a major problem!
Pierre is name (because he was french). His online personality was very attractive. Older gentleman with a little salt and pepper in his hair, very active and HELLO french.
He had all the right internet moves. I would copy and paste his smooth pick up lines but I had to block is ass from OK Cupid. After several failed attempts to meet, I finally gave in and we made a date for an early dinner.
Now, Pierre asked me to pick a restaurant in an area he was familiar with. The area he seemed to be familiar with is West Hollywood, Now if you are reading this and are not from California, West Hollywood, or as the cool kids call it Weho, is the gay area of town. I mean this area has the gay flag flying everywhere. There is no way you can not miss that this area is very gay friendly. I choose a restaurant in West Hollywood called Bossa Nova. It is directly across from a very fab and popular gay club called The Abby.
I arrived on time which is rare for me and grabbed a seat and a something alcoholic to drink. I needed something to calm my nerves. Meeting people to see if you are a match to mate or date is a very stressful thing for me, so I need all the alcohol I can get.
As I was sitting on the patio, I see this very handsome man park his car. I got very excited because he was older and kinda looked like Pierre from the pictures. I then proceed to see another very handsome man greet him with a kiss so I know that wasn’t Pierre.
15 min later Pierre finally shows up…………………
This man DID NOT look anything like his pictures. His pictures were obviously taken 15 years ago. As I greeted him, I bit my cheek and told myself, “I am going to need a lot more drinks for this one.”
When he sat across from me, be began to complain about the parking and other things. Honestly, I stopped listening because all I could stare at was his teeth. “Are they rotting?'” is what I was thinking as he was talking.
After her stopped complaining about parking we ordered and started to play the get to know you game. The whole time he was talking this smell kept coming from somewhere. I SWEAR it was from his mouth. His teeth were rotting and the smell was ruining my appetite. I think at this point I was on drink number 3. I just HAD to get out of there fast.
He began to continue complaining. This time it was about their being a club across the street. He seemed to loathe the concept of gay people, “Oh no, I would never be caught dead in there!” He would say.
DUDE you picked the area you wanted to eat in. You apparently used to live in this area, did you not notice it was gay friendly. I couldn’t take anymore of the gay bashing. Each person is entitled to their opinion, but my brother/best friend is gay and I ain’t haven that.
When the tab came out, I usually try to offer to pay at least half of the bill. This time I sat back and ordered a shot to be added to the check and didn’t even reach for my wallet. Mr. Homophobic, you will be paying for this whole dinner and all of my drinks.
He offered to walk me to my car and I insisted no, yet he still did. When we got to my car, this fool had the nerve to try to lean in for a kiss. That rotten teeth smell hit me hard. I leaned back and told him no, I am not that kind of girl. (Well not for Mr. Gingivitis).
When I got home I immediately blocked him from OK Cupid. I then sent him a text saying his views on gays bother me and I can no longer speak to him. I then blocked him from my cell phone.
Au revoir Pierre.