World's Most Horrible Date

I sent an email to a buddy of mine recapping the World's Most Horrible Date that I had on Friday. The email was pretty funny, so I decided to just cut and paste into my blog.

So, I thought maybe you'd enjoy a quick anecdote about the worst first
date in the history of first dates. One of the dudes I was talking to
on eharmony asked for my number. Our first (only) phone call was
Wednesday. It was more like an interview than a flirty conversation.
He asked why I was on eharmony, what I was looking for, what I wanted,
etc. He proceeded to tell me about all of his dates gone wrong.
Awkward all around. We decided to go bowling on Friday. I love
bowling, although I'm horrible. I thought that this guy may get
points for being original. Those were the only points he got.

Friday rolls around, and I just don't want to go. That's never a good
sign. But, I forced myself to not cancel and actually go. I went to
the fancy bowling alley (he would have gotten more points from me if
it had been a regular bowling alley full of bowling league people,
rather than a trendy alley. But, I digress) to meet him. I was
early, as usual, and waited for him out front. When he walked up, I
immediately knew I wasn't attracted to him and never would be. But, I
stifled my desire to run away and decided to give him a chance. We
went inside and decided to grab a drink first. I got a Coors Light,
cause I'm a classy girl. He ordered a martini with four olives. Um.
Yeah. So we sit at the bar talking. He proceeds to tell me about
girls he's dated. Girls he's worked with. Girls who liked him. His
24 year old girl roommate. The Hawaiian Tropics model he worked with
who he treated like shit, cause that's how you should treat beautiful
women so they don't get cocky. His bachelor pad. His car collection.
The three books he's written. That he's a butt man and once dated a
chick with huge boobs and she was self-conscious cause she knew he was
a butt man, so he'd be like "Come here baby, it's ok. I like your big
boobs too." Oh, and he told me that I'd reach my sexual peak at 31,
and would want to do it all the time. Thinking back on it now, as I
write this all out, I don't know how I didn't run away screaming!

I decided that I didn't want to bowl, cause I didn't want to prolong
the date. To be fair, I also didn't want to chance that he would
touch me at all or look at my butt when I bowled. So, we just sat at
the bar. He kept trying to get closer, and I kept backing away. Then
he asked if I wanted to go sit in these other lower sofa-esque chairs.
I said I was fine at the bar. I think it was at that point that he
figured out that he wasn't going to get anywhere with me. So he says
"I think we should just call it a night." I nearly jumped out of my
seat. He left a full martini. I think it was quite possibly the
worst date in the history of dates. Ever. It was so horrible I
haven't even been able to blog about it. I just wanted to push the
whole thing out of my mind. But, I thought you may appreciate the
horribleness, cause it is pretty funny in retrospect. And, this email
turned out funnier than I intended, so it may just become my blog
entry.