Dating Dooshes part duex

After recanting my last dating tale with my sister she has determined that she’s met the perfect man for me.

“Ria, you live in Florida, how are you going to hook me up with anyone?” Well Lo, I talked to my friend and his childhood friend, he’s 28 and is going to grad school at the University of Rochester to get his masters in Psychology. He doesn’t know a lot of people in town. I trust his judgment, I’m giving him your number.

A few days later I get a voice mail. Heavy Long Island accent stating that his friend knows my sister and gave him my number and that he’d love to get together sometime. So I called back and we agreed to meet Friday night at a local bar for dinner and drinks. I arrive and he’s not that attractive, but I’m Suzie Sunshine the eternal optimist, remember?, so who cares right? So the waiter comes by and gives us a menu…singular…menu, because they were short that evening because it was so busy. Apparently Mr. Long Island read this as he was to order for the two of us. (Picture the most obnoxious Long Island accent in the world)…so, uh, lets get some appetizers and some beer. We’ll have the, uh, potato skins and the mozzarella sticks. Done and done, waiter was gone. Could you not have ordered some crapper faire? Gross! I want a meal dammit!

But being Suzie Sunshine who shits rainbows and lollipops, I was going to be nice. “So my sister tells me you go to U of R to get your Masters in Psych”. Well, uh, not exactly. I, uh, go to SUNY Geneseo, I’m a freshman in psychology, but I’m thinking of switchin’ my major”. Ok, so my sister is off a bit, I’m not on a date with a grad student at a great school, I’m on a date with a balding loser from Long Island who can’t get through a sentence without saying “uh” and is a college freshman. “Oh, ok, how do you like Rochester?” (Again picture the MOST obnoxious Long Island accent) Well the people are, uh, nice. But I gotta tell you, I don’t like your accents. CAN YOU HEAR YOURSELF TALK MAN!

Throughout the evening I learned some interesting facts about Mr. Long Island. Not only is he a 28 year old college freshman, but he is unemployed stating that he was uh, planning to get a job this summer, but never, uh, got around to it.. Eventually he states that he knows this great bar we should go to, he knows of some festivities that evening. I’m buzzing off about 4 beers at this point and tell him ok, but it’s getting dark and I can’t drive at night due to my night blindness. He agrees to follow me to my house and pick me up. Of course I parked in the street so he wouldn’t know which house was mine and we were on our way to O’Callahans Pub. Upon arrival I tell him that I was going to use the restroom. Upon return there are two, count them, 2 pitchers of beer on our table. Ok, this guys a rockstar! So I sit and he keeps pouring me drinks, I know full well I could take this guy with my hands tied behind my back, plus all the other bar patrons kept looking at me like “why are you with this clown?”, so they had my back too.

So this unemployed 28 year old college freshman keeps drinking. I’m trying to be nice. “So it must be tough for you to be in a city where you don’t know anyone. And since you haven’t worked all summer (he didn’t even notice the malice undertone) how do you keep busy?” To be perfectly honest wit ya, I basically sit home all day and drink my fucking face off! And what sucks about the Rochester bars is that they close at 2 a.m., so I just go home grab a bottle of Jack Daniels and wander around the streets of downtown Rochester, “…Well, I understand that it’s tough being alone in a new town, and although you’re an unemployed 28 year old college freshman, who sits around and “drinks his fucking face off” and are still ready for an exciting evening on the town, I HAVE a job, I’ve got two mozzarella sticks in me and I worked all week, so I’m tired and I think it’s time to go home”. Uh, alright, I’ll drive you. I’m seriously contemplating just walking home at this point, but since the police have knocked on my door every weekend for the last month to see if I witnessed the armed robbery directly in front of my apartment, I decide it’s in my best interest to get a ride.

So, uh, is this your house?. “Yea, thanks for the ride and the “lovely” evening”. I’m about to jump from his moving vehicle. Oh, uh, I forgot to mention…my license is suspended. Did this guy take Dating for Losers 101? “So you mean to tell me that you’re a 28 year old, college freshman with a suspended license who’s hobby it is to “sit around all day and drink your fucking face off?”. I’m tallying every awful thing about this guy in my head and dying to tear a new one on my sister for this set up. Uh, Basically, yea, that’s my story. Good thing I wasn’t packing.

We get to my house and I just want to crawl in there and hide. Then I hear: Can I use your, uh, bathroom? “Is that absolutely necessary?” I, uh, really gotta go. “ I know, I watched you drink 3 pitchers of beer in as many hours, no freaking wonder you have to pee, you have 5 minutes”. I stay out on my patio because I don’t want to be in the same room as him. 5 minutes pass, 10, 20…Holy Crap, this guy is either passed out, riffling through my stuff, or dropping a fucking deuce in my bathroom!! I pull out my pocketknife and enter my apartment. As I’m opening the door I see him, he’s on his way out with a beer in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. I uh, thought you might want a nightcap. “You just helped yourself to my refrigerator? Look, I’m tired, you need to go home!” But Laura (again can I stress how obnoxious his accent is, you cannot fully appreciate this story without incorporating the accent) we’re having such a wonderful time! Can I get a kiss goodbye? Were we on the same date?? “Will that make you go away?” I give him a kiss on the cheek and he grabs my crotch!! “Look asshole, I don’t know what kind of drunken dating baseball you play, but get the fuck out!”

Two days later I get a phone message: Laura, uh, I had a mah-gi-cal, uh, evening. I’d love to see you again. Obviously I ignore after reaming my sister out for the entire situation. Exactly one week later: Laura, uh, I left you a message about a week ago, you must not have gotten it, I’d love to see you again. Where do these people come from? Apparently Long Island.