Well, there we all were, the whole family, having a nice lunch at the Pancake House. MissEight busied herself drawing with the provided crayons and Mr12 played some game on my iPhone while we waited for the yummy food to arrive. It wasn’t very busy, but we were seated next to a couple in their 20s. After a minute or so, I became aware of the conversation. I had no choice but to become aware of the conversation because the girl was speaking very loudly, with apparently no idea that everyone around her would be able to hear everything she was saying. The young man didn’t say much, if anything. My god, I realized, as she went on and on…my god…this is their FIRST DATE. I looked at up CouchTeen. He looked at me. We wore the same stunned expression. Holy crap.
I snuck a glance over. It would be fair to say she had some appearance challenges. So be it; there are some not-so-great looking folks whose personalities well make up for a lack of genetic blessedness. However. Not. Here. She kept talking and talking and talking -- braying, really -- confessing her personal sexual history, her failed romances, the multiple self-help books she was reading about relationship failures and overcoming selfishness and narcissism, and almost anything else, as long as it had to do with her. I had to look away towards the window because I started laughing and could not stop. That poor dude.
I asked CouchTeen this afternoon about it.
Me: So…how about that Pancake House girl, huh?
CouchTeen: She was very annoying and she had herpes above her upper lip. Two little herpe. Herpii. She would not shut up. That guy couldn’t even feign interest! She was self- inquisitive to a giant fault. It was really bad. Awful.
Me: At what price would you date this girl?
CouchTeen: DATE?????? LIKE MULTIPLE DATES? Oh my god. Would I have to touch her? ZERO PRICE! God, if I didn’t have to have any physical contact…god… god…how long would it have to be? I couldn’t… I couldn’t do it for any less than like a grand a night. I don’t think anything less would be worth it. I don’t think you could last.
Me: What about for free?
CouchTeen: No, I would kill myself. You’d have to just walk out. For free, I couldn’t last 30 minutes.
Me: What was the worst thing other than the herpii that you remember about her?
CouchTeen: God, I don’t know, it was all just so bad. The self-help books. I guess her last boyfriend that she kept talking about gave them to her so I guess that’s saying something. You don’t want to tell someone that you read self-help books about narcissism on what must have been a first date! God, she was just so full of herself, but she thought she was doing this great job of NOT being full of herself.
Me: She never stopped talking that I heard.
CouchTeen: No, not once unless the server came over, and that lasted about two seconds. Awful. God, and she looked like she was wearing some outfit from Prince’s closet from 1983, that Purple Rain blouse.
Me: She kept saying how everyone in her life kept telling her how selfish she was, and then said, “well, of course I am, because I am an only child!”
CouchTeen: I don’t think I heard the guy's voice once. GOD. Excusing your wild selfishness on a first date just seems like a really bad way to set things up. Yeesh.
Me: She also made some excuse that her debit card was messed up, so the guy had to cover the lunch check!
So, the advice we would give this couple is as follows:
THE GIRL:
-- This is a first date, not a Catholic confession booth. Your idea of being all super-honest and upfront and “this is me with all my faults, take me as I am,” could not be more inappropriate at a lunch meet-up at a family restaurant, with a guy you don’t know.
-- You aren’t that interesting to hog the entire conversation – no one is. Not only do you need to let the guy speak, how about asking him about himself and his life, hmm? If you don’t want to get to know him, are you just looking for some man to put up with you and nod his head at you?
-- The shirt was not good. The date maybe would be better postponed until your lip herps had healed. Help yourself here a little.
-- 99% of all self-help books are crap. Never tell anyone you read them.
-- Do not expect to get a second date when you flat-out tell the guy that everyone in your life, including boyfriends, regular friends, and your family keeps telling you that you are a jerk.
-- Bring cash.
THE GUY:
© Copyright 2008- Marianne Spellman