Fools in Love – Part I

man with girly drink“Wise men say, ‘Only fools rush in.'” -Elvis Presley

My first and only date with K.A. was painful. He spent the entirety of our two-hour dinner complaining about his coworkers. He is a somewhat effeminate history teacher who speaks with a whine to his voice, even when he is not endlessly bad-mouthing his coworkers.

K.A. was not just disgruntled about his work situation; he was a downright bitter person – and not in a fun, acerbic, Grumpy Cat kind of way. He actually fantasized to me about his plans for revenge on one of the other history teachers, calling her an unkind name. As if listening to his ranting wasn’t painful enough, he didn’t ask me more than two questions about myself the entire night. Clearly he was looking more for a venting partner than a romantic date.

He’d taken me to a pub where they served beer and not wine, so although I’m not much of a drinker, I ordered a cherry beer, deciding to try something new (and perhaps dull the pain)! K.A. asked to try it, and he liked it so much that, when our waitress came back, he asked for a cherry beer of his own.

Some men can pull off drinking cherry beer. Maximus Decimus Meridius could pull off drinking cherry beer. Indiana Jones could pull off drinking cherry beer. Paul Bunyan could pull off drinking cherry beer (not that he would). But whining, effeminate K.A.? On a first date, no less? Not a great choice, bro.

Obviously K.A. did not get a second date. But that didn’t keep him from trying. A couple of weeks after our disastrous first date, he sent me a text: “We should go out again for cherry beer.”

First of all, don’t ask a girl out on a date over text message, especially after two weeks of radio silence. Secondly, don’t draw attention to the fact that you ordered a cherry beer for yourself on the first date.

I turned him down again, but he tried again the following week, sending me three late-night text messages: “Wish u were here out dancing… I could use a cute girl like you… Maybe you should come over here.” He sent a fourth text the following morning apologizing; then said: “I want to try taking you out. Will you agree???”

I worded my reply carefully: “Thanks for being bold and asking outright, but I honestly don’t think we are a fit romantically. You have a lot to offer a girl, but I don’t believe I am the right girl for you.”

Instead of accepting my repeated rejection of him, he sent a text back: “Oh I disagree.”

“Whole heatedly,” he added; then corrected, “Heartedly* …heatedly as well.”

I cringed. So awkward! “I’m sorry, but I’m not interested.”

His response came swiftly: “Whatever. Thought it would be fun. Have a nice life.”

Classy. That’s a great way to make me regret my decision. 

He’s probably drowning his sorrows in cherry beer. And sadly, that’s probably the only hint of honey he’s going to get in this lifetime unless he changes his sour attitude.

Authentically Aurora