I met a girl online and decided after a number of emails that it would be nice to meet up in person. Her name we’ll refer to as Sarah, lived in the heart of Seattle , which was a bit of a drive for me. After a bit of a dry spell in my dating life, I decided it would be worth potentially meeting someone who would be fun to hang out with or possibly date.
Just a little background, I hate going to Seattle. I hate the parking, the drivers, the street layout nonsense, the pedestrians who intentionally step into moving traffic, and how everything costs an extra premium. There are fun and entertaining things to do in Seattle, but the cons far outweigh the pros to be done on a normal basis. Agreeing to go on this date was a tough decision, but I figured that I’d give it a go to try and expand my horizons.
We arranged to meet outside her apartment complex and walk up the road to a Thai/Pho restaurant a few blocks away. I got to Seattle with a few minutes to spare, but I could not find any street parking. I passed about 4 or 5 parking spots that had someone nearly double parked over the line, and did not have enough room for a compact vehicle, let alone a full sized pickup. With minutes ticking down until our meeting time, I decided to go ahead and pick a parking garage with a decent 0-2 hour rate. I tend to put a bit of emphasis on punctuality with first dates. I’d hate to be late or give my date the impression that I don’t value her time. I made it there, picked up my ticket, and walked across the street to her apartment building.
More background, I typically don’t mind when women of interest don’t shave or wear makeup, etc. Just as long as they’re hygienic and such, it isn’t a big issue for me.
I waited outside for a few minutes, and sure enough Sarah walked through the doors to greet me. The first thing I noticed about her was that she was a bit “heavier” than her pictures had portrayed her being, and slightly older. Possibly profile pictures 2-3 years old. In efforts not to be shallow, I tried to see past this, but couldn’t help notice that she looked…. dirty. Almost like she had gone several days without bathing. However, I’m in Seattle and the hippie culture is strong here. We greeted each other and started walking to the restaurant. The walk was short and provided some nice leg-stretching as we went up steep roadways. Sarah really struggled to keep her breath in the incline, so I had to drop my pace quite a bit so we could carry on unhindered conversation.
The Thai place was pretty small and specialized in a vegetarian menu. I discovered that she is vegetarian, and considered eating meat murder and such. (except for fish somehow) I was tempted to pry into this ideology for clarification if that included all fish, crustaceans, insects, aquatic mammals, or exactly what fish-like attributes separated “meat” from “murder”. I refrained doing so because the way she described it, there was wavering in her voice and facial/body cues that she was uncomfortable or perhaps recently converted to this way of dietary restriction. Plus, I didn’t want to come off as being “difficult”. We were able to make conversation about art, since I am a photographer we discussed various art forms, and hers was painting and sketching.
Dinner was alright, and a bit expensive for what we had ordered, but it was the “experience” that mattered most apparently and thus Sarah rationalized the extra cost. She offered to split the bill which was much appreciated, but the waiter had some difficulty with her credit card so I insisted that it all be put on mine instead.
We left and started walking back to her apartment. All in all, this had been a pretty “meh-disappointing” date. Lack of chemistry, odd and possibly incompatible values/views, and the fact that she didn’t appear like she did in her profile, it wasn’t going well. I was in the process of saying my goodbyes at the entry way of her apartment, when she insisted I come upstairs to see her artwork/paintings. I looked at the clock, and I still had some extra time on my parking ticket. Reluctantly I went upstairs in the apartment building and walked into her room.
I was in shock. The room was a disaster. The chaotic mess of dirty clothes, dishes, pizza boxes, and various other miscellaneous items were only overpowered by the strong scent of burnt cannabis, incents, and body odor. Even though there weren’t a lot of things in the apartment, things were strewn about like someone went out of their way to maximize the volume of the mess by evenly distributing about in the least efficient manner possible. There was a single twin mattress in the corner with crumpled bedding that appeared like it hadn’t been changed in …. Well… ever. There were cannabis plants growing in various pots in the kitchen with fertilizers placed next to spices and cooking elements. I was a bit overwhelmed by everything, that I didn’t even notice her artwork or easel with a half-finished canvas on it. Her artwork was alright I suppose, maybe just not my thing, but I struggled to compliment on which attributes she was seeking praise or admiration on. Maybe I was just distracted by my olfactory overload, combined with the chaotic junk-fest in the apartment room. Mind you, this was not a slummy apartment complex. The building was fairly new, or recently renovated with modern light fixtures, carpet, and a fancy lobby. It had the same shock value as if one went into a fancy church building, then opened the door to see the insides of a garden tool shed.
For some reason, my mind tried to categorize items in the apartment to find some logical pattern or reason for such chaos, and I didn’t realize the amount of time that was passing, and where our conversation was going. I tried to be as polite as possible, and disguise my level of shock by being as agreeable and sympathetic as possible. I had no idea that Sarah was trying to progress the date into something more, until she started to take layers of clothing off while eyeing me and suggesting I take a seat on her bed mattress. Once again, stunned, I didn’t know exactly what to do or how to gracefully abort at this point. Just before she had taken her shirt off to expose bare breasts, I shamelessly lied that I needed to “feed the meter” for my parking before I got a ticket. I thanked her for the evening, and started to leave. Things started getting “clingy” as she tried to keep me in her apartment with various suggestions of watching a movie, helping her fix the sink, etc. It got pretty awkward when I ran out of excuses, and tactlessly blurted out, “I’m going to go.” Then left.
I beat myself up inside as I walked down the stairs to the street. I felt bad, and kind of guilty that things had progressed that far that quickly without me even realizing it. I checked the time, and I realized I needed to hurry if I didn’t want to be charged an extra hour at the parking garage. The parking garage was slightly further away than I remembered it being, and I tried to jog my way down the street, desperately hoping that Sarah wasn’t watching from her window above.
I got to the parking garage, and there was an automated payment center where you submitted your ticket, and paid via credit card. I still had a few minutes to spare! First bit of good news that evening. However, there was an elderly couple struggling to figure out how the future-aged device operated. I was about to offer to assist, since I was eyeing the clock, but an argument erupted between the couple and they became beyond reason. Shaking fingers and a slow processor on the touch screen interface didn’t make matters easier. Minutes passed, and I grew impatient. The woman saw me waiting there and nagged her partner to hurry up, which only made matters worse with more incorrect inputs and complications. By the time the ordeal was finally over, over 7 minutes had passed. I went to pay for my 0-2 hour payment of $8.00, but instead a fee of $25.00 popped up. It had just passed the 2+ hour / evening tier in their pricing system by less than 2 minutes. I was furious.
The trip to Seattle was a gamble… and this one I lost bigtime. $25 for parking, $30 for dinner, $10 in gasoline, and all I had to show for it was an awkward date that could have been avoided if someone had been a bit more honest in their online profile and emails. Online dating sucks.
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