Dating Disaster: I Was Really Late, He Was Really Drunk


watch in a glass
The red flags of excessive drinking and chronic lateness do their best to ruin a great thing.

The thought, "Oh God, he has to hate me," is never a good sign during a first date. But when you're two hours late and he hasn't responded to your last text, it's not possible to think of anything else. Let's start from the beginning.

We met on a train ride from New York to Connecticut. We were with a large group headed to a mutual friend of a friend's barbeque extravaganza. Anyone familiar with Metro North knows that an hour-and-a-half long trip is not complete without a trip to the bar car and a conversation started over an $8 can of Miller.


Sean was a different kind of guy. I was used to going out with smart guys (I went to a good college and live in New York), but he was a different kind of smart. A smart that took itself less seriously. A smart that didn't calculate ways to work in its earning power into every conversation. A smart that could do anything but didn't define itself by what it did, if that makes sense. Needless to say, I found him very interesting. We split off at the barbeque but he managed to ask for my phone number (smart of him) before he headed back to the city. 5 First Date Tips For The Ladies

Flash-forward a week or so: Sean called, told me how much he enjoyed chatting with me and wondered what I was doing the following Friday. I was very excited to see him but I was a little reluctant to set up an actual date on a weekend when my free time was so limited. I had recently been promoted, and my new position involved signing my life over to my manager (whom we'll call Kip). I now leased personal time from him and did my best to spend weekend time with friends. Sean said Thursday was fine. 5 Worst First Dates Ever

We agreed to meet at one of the million indistinguishable Irish sports pubs in Manhattan, and settled on 8 PM. I did my absolute best to get out of work at a decent hour. In fact, I had so much time on my hands that I did a little shopping on my way to the date. A mistake. After picking up a handful of things (tights, tees and the like) from a favorite discount store, I was back on track. Unfortunately, it was already 8. I texted Sean mentioning that I'd be a few minutes late, which may not have been necessary given that anything before fifteen minutes late in New York is on-time to early. Dating Disaster: A Guy, A Girl, Her Gas

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