Tim to Leave

After giving Tiny Tim what I thought was the obvious brush off, saying I was busy all three times he asked to hang out, I thought he'd gotten the hint.

That was until I turned the corner in my local Barnes & Noble, innocently perusing the selection of hobbies I could take up in 30 pages or less, when BAM! Tiny Tim was standing there. We started talking and he invited me to grab pizza with him the next night. I will run to hell and back to avoid awkward situations, so I said, "Sure."

Which I knew my mother would be proud of, because every time I say I'm not interested in going on a second date with a guy she says, "Well I didn't like your father at first. Go out with him again."

So we had dinner the next night at a little pizzeria across town, and it was fine for the most part. He's cute, he's nice, he used to be the lead singer in a band and plays guitar....I just don't get the butterflies from him. He also kept talking about his beard, which was a new feature since I last saw him. Beards gross me out. And he kept telling me to touch it and I refused every time.

I don't want to pick the poor guy apart, because I'm sure he'll make some girl very happy. Just not me.

When our waitress asked if we wanted a second beer, he asked me if I wanted to stay there or go somewhere else. I really just wanted to go home, put on my pj's and watch reruns of The Office, but they were both just staring at me so I said, "We can go somewhere else for a bit."

So he gives her his credit card and says to me, "I'll get dinner, you can get our next round."

He ran this same line after our sushi dinner, when he said I could get him dessert. Stop speaking on my wallet's behalf, you tiny cheapskate!

So we went across the street and he leads me to a booth in this lounge area near the back. In a dimly lit area. Very sly, Stallone. I was tempted to sit across from him, but he sat on the larger couch-type seat and goes, "Have a seat." So I sat on the same side as him, but I made sure there was an arm's length between us. And luckily from that side of the booth I could stare at the trio of cute men sitting across the bar.

We had a drink and chatted for a bit more. It was fine, but there were zero sparks. Less than zero. I'd dare say we had a negative amount of sparkage. Well on my end at least. He wanted to stay for another round, yeah since you're not paying, but I said I should get home. I really just didn't want to be in his presence anymore. He was so eager it was grossing me out.

We walk outside of the bar and I'm trying to flag down a cab, but of course there are no cabs in sight. So he comes up to me and puts his hands on my elbows, oh gosh this again, and goes, "I should do this now," and goes in for the kiss. Someone's awfully sure of himself.

I backed away quickly like he was covered in spiders, and said, "Easy pal" to which he just chuckled. Like the Devil. Like muhahaha my little flower. I'm wonderful and you are probably already in love with me and my new beard and I stole a lock of your hair when you weren't looking and I'm going to follow you home and stare into your window and braid your hair into mine.

Luckily a cab pulled up before Lucifer could come at me again like a little bearded woodpecker. I said adios and hopped in the taxi without looking back. What a dating predator.

I'd just fade him out, but this guy's bulletproof. He doesn't take hints and is body-language illiterate.

I'm going to need a stronger weapon.