Objects in the mirror may NOT always be bigger then they appear

To start, I must say I will botch this story, some how my humor doesn't quite translate into my writing, but I am going to give it a try anyway.

Ok, I will let you in on a secret. I HATE dating. I hate the whole first date thing. Meeting the new guy. I like the point where you get past that and start ENJOYING being together. I am terrible at dating. I also expect a lot and when you don't come close to meeting my expectations I am so over it. Lastly, I do not do well when I have decided very early on a date that it is not happening and then you have to be fake to get through the rest! I confess this secret for a reason.

Two days ago I went on a date. I did not know this guy. We had been emailing and talking on the phone, but had not met yet. Ok. So we decide to meet to play Putt-Putt. I was already a little put off that I had to drive way down to the south side because he was so unwilling to meet halfway. Whatever.

He calls me on the way. "Please, tell me you are running late because I am."

I'm not. Strike One.

He arrives, gets out of the car and starts walking towards me. At this point he should be getting bigger as he approaches me right, OR....he could in fact turn out to be a MIDGET!! Maybe not a midget, but given that I am 5' 2" and I was TOWERING over him, he was NOT a tall man. Yes, I was wearing heels, but if he was 5'5" like claimed, even in heels I shouldn't be almost a head taller then him. Strike Two.

"Why are you wearing heels, you are too tall!" Well I have some flip flops in the car I can change into if it is that big of a deal?

"Uh yeah, do that." Really? I guess I can do that if really want me to. Strike Three.

"Whatever." So we walk on in. "Are you really going to putt putt in those shoes?" I will go change! "No, it's fine." Strike Four.

What was he wearing? Funny you should ask! He had on a red baseball jersey, brown cargo shorts, white scrunchy tube socks and brown tennis shoes. Wait!! White scrunchy tube socks?!?! Yes folks. White socks that were so tall that were scrunched up at his ankles, like FIVE inches of socks!! Also the gray heel is hanging over the edge of the back of his shoes. Hello, short athletic socks?!? Heard of these?!?! Strike Five.

We then proceed to have a ridiculous convo with the clerk about how many games we are going to pay for. Boo.

As we start the game, I am running through my list of appropriate first date questions. Each response to the questions are literally one word grunts!! Any questions he would ask of me were all the same ones that he had already asked. Obviously didn't care. Strike Six.

He mumbled. I couldn't hear when he was talking. I kept saying "huh". He would then get about two inches from my face and repeat himself. Hello personal space?? Strike Seven.

Some how I make it through the unbearable three rounds and we start walking towards our cars. At this point he sees my temp plate and starts grilling me about why I got a new car? Is it really your business, probably not. But of course given that we have been in a relationship for a while 45 minutes now that gives him the right to start peeping in my car windows. Strike Eight.

He now is staring at my feet. "So do you really always wear heels?" Actually I do pretty much. "Do you always keep your toes all sexy? And you have WAY sexy legs just so you know. I was totally checking them out."

I want to barf. Strike Nine, Ten and Eleven.

I tell him it's time for me to go. "Where are you going, what are you going to do?" I am just going home. That's all. Strike Twelve.

"Well how about a hug?" Sure. Not here's the creepiest part and I can't convey it....it really requires a visual. He did this weird thing were he slid his hands up my arms, gave me a squeeze, another squeeze, and then ran his hands back down my arms until he was holding my hands. Uuuughggh!!! Totally want to rip my skin off!! Strike Thirteen, Fourteen,....Fifty!!!!

To conclude this magical date....

"Well I don't call, so if you want to see me again, you will have to call me." I'm old fashioned, I don't call boys.

"If you want to see me bad enough you will." At this point I have lost count of his many strikes!!

I don't call boys, but thanks for the game. And with that I jumped in the car, locked my doors and sped off.

I HATE dating.