My Dating Nightmare: Guy Was 45 Minutes Late, Then Wouldn't Pay For Drinks
Rule number one when you're on a date is to always keep cool and give a good impression. Even if you're raging inside, never ever EVER show it on the outside. It's not a good look. Rule number two? Don't be a cheapskate. Again, not a good look.
In our latest tale of dating debacles from real women in NYC, brought to us by The Single Society, it seems like this guy missed both those memos. Big time! The dating world is a tough one, but hey, at least bad dates make good stories, right?
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This was my most terrible date... by far!
I met Andrew on Bumble, and after chatting for a brief period of time I opted to meet him for drinks at a local watering hole after work one evening…which resulted in the most terrible date ever.
Being that punctuality is one of the (many) virtues I happen to possess, I was outside of the wine bar of choice promptly at 8 PM.
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He arrived nearly 45 minutes late...
At approximately 8:17 Andrew texted me to tell me that he was close but was unable to find a place to park his car. I informed him that there was an empty parking lot directly adjacent to the venue (where I also parked), but said he would rather find a spot on the street and not pay for parking.
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Because he refused to spend $5 on a parking lot.
I texted back telling Andrew that the lot cost $5.00 for the evening but despite what I thought was an economical parking situation, Andrew clearly thought his hard-earned $5 was more valuable than my precious time.
Little did he know my DVR was currently full of unwatched Real Housewives episodes, so clearly I had other more important places to be.
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He finally showed up, bottle of wine in hand. To a bar.
It was about 8:39 when my patience began vastly dwindling, and I was preparing to head back to my car when Andrew arrived in the knick of time sporting ripped cargo shorts, a fluorescent green muscle shirt and a puka shell necklace compliments of 1992 with a bottle of wine hoisted securely under his armpit.
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The bar was no longer BYOB. He wasn't impressed.
We settled down at the bar to exchange slightly awkward pleasantries while awaiting service.
The waitress arrived, at last.
"Sorry, we actually no longer allow B.Y.OB. since we got our liquor license about six months ago," she informed us. "Here is our drink menu."
Andrew immediately became visibly irritated.
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In fact, he was PISSED OFF!
"That is the entire reason I came here. Can't you just let us drink this bottle?" He contended.
After some back and forth I intervened and told the bartender I would have the house red.
"I will have a Bud Light," Andrew said begrudgingly.
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He tried opening his bottle under the table, anyway. Bad move!
Andrew then slipped the bottle under the table cloth and deviously attempted to open the bottle of wine with to miniature pocket knife on his key chain. The cork ended up breaking off inside the bottle and he retrieved a butter knife from the neighboring table to try and stab it inside to release it from the bottleneck.
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The manager made him stop. He was now irate.
Despite his efforts to be inconspicuous the manager noticed and came by to tell him that he was not permitted to drink wine that was not purchased from their establishment. Andrew got into a contentious exchange with the manager and relented the fact that he had only chosen this place because he thought it was, in fact, B.Y.O.B. Had he been privy to this information before, he would have gone elsewhere.
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B.Y.O BYE!
We exited the bar, and Andrew suggested we see each other again, but first, he would call and confirm that he could bring his own bottle.
Spoiler alert: It never happened.
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He refused to pay. I'd had enough.
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