Every Guy Deserves a Chance

Whoever invented that saying is full of shit. My motto is trust your gut... and if you're one of those pretty girl types and don't have a gut... then just do whatever you want because pretty girls can do whatever they want anyway.

Let me take you back to a little over a month ago when I kept running into this guy. He lives in my building, pretty good looking, definitely has a job... overall this guy's resume seems to be a winner so when he asks me to go get sushi, my obvious response was of course! Wooo date night here we come.

Friday night rolls around, I hustle home from work and get all pretty. I exit the elevator and my knight in shining armor is awaiting me. Fabulous. This guy is also punctual. Looks like I have found my future husband. I'll take a vintage wedding ring thanks. Fast forward through the awkward hellos, how was your day blah blah blah. I'm bored with this convo type of stuff and let's move on to the good stuff.

As we're strolling down "the strip" towards the restaurant (ooooh la la so romantic) the curve balls begin, but initially I don't realize what I've gotten myself into. "Oh... I'm on a really strict diet right now. I'm in my workout/diet phase." In my head I'm just thinking ooookay. Typical New Yorker. Loves the gym and a nice piece of grilled chicken with a side of nothing. Fine. I'll get over it and teach him how to love fried foods like we in the Midwest do. RED FLAG

We finally make it to the restaurant and sit down in a cozy lil spot in my favorite sushi establishment and I'm feeling generally ok about the situation. Neither person makes a move for the drink list. Fine. Not a big deal. I've been in this drinking game for awhile. I don't need to see a menu to know what I'm ordering. When the waiter stops by to ask for drinks I look at my gentleman caller and ask if he's getting anything and his response.... "I don't drink." WUT. Jaw off the floor Ashley. Jaw. Off. The. Floor! RED FLAG.

As we move into the first serious conversation (and mind you less than 10 minutes into sitting down at the table) Mr. Sober asks me if I'm religious. RED FLAG. Dear God, man. You sure do know how to make a girl swoon.

Time to order so I ask if he wants to share sushi and his response is "No, I prefer to get my own since I'm pretty particular about what I eat but you'll have to try a piece of this special roll that I created and they make just for me." Um.... am I supposed to be impressed here? I'm confused. Are other girls impressed by this? It's a sushi roll, bro. It's not like we just asked for a custom built car. Rawr. red flag...

Ok so I try to recover our conversation after we order. There must be something salvageable here. Wrong. I was very wrong. Out of no where... this guy drops the biggest bomb so nonchalantly. "Yea... I just got back from my 20th high school reunion." *practically chokes on food* *world freezes**eyes widen*Let's just say I wasn't alive all that long when this bro was graduating high school. Red flag...

Where does the conversation lead to next you ask? Oh... he decides we should talk about kids. "Do you like kids?" "Not really." I think I blacked out for the next ten minutes (from my H20 of course) because I can't remember what we talked about but it definitely had something to do with kids, Halloween, and a baptism... and maybe something in Colorado. I don't know. Whatever. Please get me home. Tooooo many red flags!!!

We're finally done and the check arrives. Mr. Red Flag^infinity degree pays (very appreciative. thanks for the sush) and I get up to walk out. Freeze! No no. It's not time to go yet. Mr. Red Flag must return the signed bill to the waiter in case some lil gremlin is out there trying to steal this guy's credit card information. RED FLAG. Like what is this? 1990!? My date can't figure out why the waiter isn't returning. After 20 minutes of me desperately trying to find common ground I'm about to march the check up to the waiter myself when he finally returns. Whew... I've made it. A short 10 minute walk and I can close this chapter of my life.

Here we go walking down "the strip" and what does this bro decide to do? He tries to stop at every single place along the way! "Ohhh.... we should stop and play pool." "Um... I thought you said 9 pm was your bedtime? And... I'm not good at pool. It's got that whole geometry aspect that just really doesn't do anything for me...." "Ohhh have you been to this place? They have great desserts. Would you like to stop?" "No... I thought you were on a diet?" Shuffle shuffle shuffle and we've FINALLY arrived at our apartment complex. I've made it. NO. Wait... nope. sure didn't. We must stop and talk to the concierge about the cute kids that will be trick or treating. All the while the thoughts in my mind are racing... maybe I could just sneak away into the elevator. Say I've got a stomach ache. Anything. Annnnything just get me home. Whew done with the concierge but OH WAIT. A little girl with a puppy comes out of the elevator. Eff it. I'm never getting home. Finally I just walk to the elevator and push the up button. I'm getting the H-E - double hockey sticks outta here. Oh look. He followed me. Should have tried that ages ago... like when he asked me if I was religious. I get off on my floor. Give an awkward lil wave and "welp. thanks for the dinner! see ya!" Elevator closes annnnd scene.

NEXT BRO PLEASE