Seattle Date Night! Guest Blog Application

One of my favorite blogs, Seattle Date Night!, is written by a pair of my friends. It deals with their date nights throughout Seattle and it entertaining and gives good info. (And, really, who wouldn't want to be involved with a blog that gives good info?)

Brett and Mandy are having a competition to allow readers to submit their own "Date Night" blog entry. They claimed they wanted details, and if I can do anything in my life, it's write up details. Plus, there was potentially free food involved, so I had to enter.

I immediately scoured the darkest part of my dating history and type up the following. A few brief notes before I cut and paste from my email:

1. I am pretty sure that didn't win. I think that Mandy was letting me down easily by encouraging me to put it on my blog.
2. One of my grandmother reads--or at least is a fan of--my blog. I sort of hope she skips this one. And pretty much all of them.
3. If you read this and think to yourself, "She sounds familiar!" then you are correct and (a) know me well enough to know more stories about this woman, and/or (b) obviously remember my "The Worst" blog entry from January, where she had a prominent role.
4. There are a few bad words sprinkled in. Be warned.

OK. Here we go.

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(This date occurred almost three years ago, and it's a bit of a departure from the Brett and Mandy Date night format. I understand if it's not appropriate for your audience, and if you believe that it's fit to reprint, please feel free to zap a couple of key words.)

I'm not afraid of online dating. I actually signed up for Match.com some time back and managed to have a girl contact me first. I was stunned and a bit dubious as to the actual non-spammer nature of the person, but we exchanged emails and I she gave me her number. It was a Wednesday evening (a day or two after our last email) when I called. She didn't pick up, but I left a voicemail and after an exciting couple of hours of network television, decided to go to bed early. The time was about 9:30 PM. At approximately 9:47 (about 35 seconds after I fell asleep) my cell phone rang. I couldn't reach it easily, and figured the person would leave a voicemail or whatever if it was important. I was trying unsuccessfully to get back to sleep when the phone rang again, so I got out of bed and answered it. It was the Match.com girl.

I was sleepy but I was delighted she would call me back so quickly (and persistently). We had a nice conversation going about this and that when, about seven minutes into the conversation, it took a weird turn:

Her: How tall are you again?
Me: I dunno... like six-one, maybe?
Her: OK. Do you have a big cock?
Me: ...

(Uh. What?)

Her: Just kidding!
Me: Haha? Ha ha ... ?

Actually, I thought it was funny. Who SAYS that? Who has that sense of humor with a person they just met?

So I continued to enjoy our conversation for another five minutes or so when it took another turn:

Her: So you have a big cock?
Me: Uh... wha-?
Her: Because I have a tight pussy.
Me: Uh... hey, did you want to get coffee?
Her: Sure.
Me: Like, now?
Her: Yes.

I don't even drink coffee. I rarely go to coffee stands or huts or shops or markets or whatever coffee point of sales might be. But I knew that people tended to like coffee, and I knew we were in Seattle, and I thought that at 10:15 on a Wednesday night, a coffee place (to use a generic noun) would be open.

As it turns out, I was wrong. Neither Match.com Girl nor I could name a single place that was open at that hour for coffee, but I knew that 13 Coins was, so we went there.

13 Coins is not your typical restaurant. It's open 24 hours (good), serves good food (good), charges $14 for a hamburger (bad), and has security, i.e. bouncers, late at night (kind of scary). I knew it would be open, though, and she was down with getting food, rather than coffee, so we went.

The place has a night lounge kind of vibe to it. The booths are leather and some have curtains that can be drawn for privacy. You can also belly up the bar and see the food workers scramble around behind the scenes, looking like chickens with their heads cut off. The food is, as I mentioned, rather expensive, but it's good and the vibe of the place is distinct... and it's open late.

My first hint that there was something weird about this girl (yes, I admit it: some people MIGHT have found the phone call more than a bit odd, but...) was when we were being seated. We had had to wait in the waiting area for about three minutes and as we were walking to the the booth where our table was, she mumbled something:

Her: Did you see that guy?
Me: What?
Her: Did you see that guy staring at me?
Me: At you? No. Why would he do that? Who?
Her: He was just staring. I don't like him.

(Uh. What?)

We sat down at the booth. She sat REALLY close to me. We ordered about $40 worth of food, including an omelette and a club sandwich, if I remember correctly. Both tasted delicious, but after about five minutes of me nibbling at the food (I wasn't particularly hungry; I had eaten dinner and been actually asleep for the night earlier, remember) it was clear that she wasn't much interested in food.

We left about $37 worth of food (plus tip) on the table and I did the gentlemanly thing of giving her a ride back to her place.