The guy was late, not by much, but missed the movie (this guy is the reason why I don’t do movies on first dates anymore), so we went to a different one. No big deal, I’m pretty easy going. I notice that he doesn’t look like his pictures, and he mentions that his pics are about 5 – 7 years old. Not cool, but okay, it’s a first date, and I can suffer through 2 hours. He had invited me out that night, and though I expect to pay, it’s nice when the guy offers. However, he went up and bought his own ticket, and didn’t offer to pay for mine. Then he got snacks for himself and didn’t offer to get me anything. But, hey, I’m a modern woman, I expect to pay for myself, so…not that big of a deal. We go into the theater, and by this time, I’m not terribly impressed with this guy. When we sit down, he practically sits in my lap. He is so far over in his chair, we might as well have been sharing my chair. So, I squoosh over (squoosh is the technical term, yes) as far as I can. You’d think it couldn’t get any worse, but no. He’s a movie talker. Not just talker, but questioner. “Wow, did you see that?” “What just happened?” “What’s going on, did I miss something?” We were watching the same freaking movie. After a few grunted responses, I played deaf. The people behind me were as ticked off as I was, and kept kicking my seat, which ticked me off even more. I wasn’t the one talking, after all. So, after the longest movie in the world was over, we are walking out of the theater, and he asks me if I’d like to go out for an after-movie drink. The date ended with me telling him I had a lot of laundry to do that night.
Moral of the story – if a girl tells you she’d rather do laundry than continue a date, it didn’t go well.