03 June 2011

Frat Boy Mike

We all have that one date where something happens and all of a sudden, not only does the glass shatter but you look at that person and wonder how the hell they’ve made it this far in life. I still remember quite vividly when I went out on this date. I was in college, still working at the convention center so every weekend was a different group promoting a different service/product. Some of our promoters were more regular than the once or twice annual that a majority of our shows were – the computer show is where I met Frat Boy Mike. These guys came in once a month and many were college kids like me just looking to make some extra beer money. I got to know two Mikes actually and of course the one I was all about, dangled the carrot of hanging out and I always jumped but never caught it. This totally sucked since I saw him all the time and just didn’t get why we weren’t living the happily ever after lifestyle - well as much as an ever after a sophomore in college can. Anyway, as the cosmos would have it, Mike number 2 was the one who actually made plans with me. The irony was that they both worked at the same show for different vendors and both got my number the same weekend – I used to be much more open minded and unassuming, clearly that has changed somewhat and this was a gigantic contributing factor.

Mike number 2 – aka Frat Boy Mike - went to college just a few miles away from me and was much closer logistically than the hot Mike who lived across the bridge in another state so I figured it was just as well I stop chasing the hotty yum yum Mike and see what Frat Boy Mike had to offer. I agreed to meet him neutrally the following weekend at TGI Friday’s. I was excited to show off my dressed up self out of uniform and not smelling like coffee and vegetarian lasagna and he was excited to show me how disgustingly rough his hands were from all of his ‘motorcycle riding’ – looked more like he had his hands under a rototiller then doused with acid and salt. I had a strong urge to bust out some Vaseline intensive hand care but I overlooked it and hoped he wouldn’t try to hold my hand-which he tried about five minutes later. I’ve never been that girl who has issues eating in front of guys, I don’t understand those girls and I am not a ‘I’m going to only eat salad’ person either unless I truly am in the mood to get my vegetation on so I went with the chicken and baked potato entrée - Frat Boy Mike went with the Fettuccini Alfredo which was bizarre to me because if he wanted Italian, we could have gone next door to the Olive Garden but whatever, the date must go on.

Frat Boy Mike starts to tell me about life in his ‘fraternity house’ with his ‘fraternity house brothers’ and how he and his ‘fraternity house brothers’ were tighter than blood – okay I don’t even know what tighter than blood means and can we drop the ‘fraternity house’ label, my college was saturated in Greek life and I have had a few ‘fraternity house brothers’ on my resume soooo let’s agree to call them your frat brothers or no brothers at all. I spent the next 10 minutes or so really annoyed by this and zoned out on what he was talking about, then decided to devote my undivided attention to the delicious chicken on my plate. Frat Boy Mike was slurping his fettuccini – it was gross and I was not about to hose down his smothered in cheese face – I won’t even get in to how he ate that garlic bread stick because I’m pretty sure people have been arrested for less offensive gestures. We finish dinner and dumbass me decided to take him up on his offer to go for coffee – thinking I do love coffee so what’s the worst that could happen? We get to the little main street of shops and restaurants, which at the time, had a Bath & Body Works and the overpowering smell of Sun Ripened Raspberry was almost nauseating. Inside the store you could see a girl dragging her boyfriend around as she filled up her basket with the ‘FINAL product not tested on animals’ scents and I said something about how I felt bad for that guy. Frat Boy Mike wanted to drag me in to the store to show me that he too could tolerate the smell of Cucumber Mellon and Juniper Breeze, but I more so meant I felt bad for the emasculated boyfriend who had given up on life at the ripe age of 19 for a controlling bitch. We get to the coffee shop and I order myself a delicious latte in a Central Perk size mug and get a table off to the side of the acoustic singer. Frat Boy Mike goes MIA for a few minutes then comes to the table with his coffee and LARGE BOWL OF BROCCOLI SOUP – w.t.f. we just ate dinner?! And soup? From a coffee shop?!

Around this time I’m regretting continuing the date anymore but the coffee was good so was the live entertainment. Frat Boy Mike starts to ask me about my dating history and I glaze over it as quickly as possible because there really wasn’t much to tell and nothing he needed to know. I could tell he wanted me to ask him the same question, so I did and that was the glass shattering moment. It turns out that Frat Boy Mike recently got out of a serious relationship with someone he wanted to marry whom he wasn’t over yet because he was IN LOVE – but his family didn’t approve and started to cut him off financially and he was going to have to drop out of school. I asked if it was a matter of clashing religions or cultures or family feud of sorts, not so much. The family didn’t approve of FIRST COUSINS DATING. OMG OMG OMG gross – I am really close with my cousins but in a high 5 fist pump kind of way not in a pants off dance off kind of way. I pretty much insisted he return me to my car immediately which was still 3 very far miles away at TGI Fridays. I didn’t say anything else the rest of the date and when we get back to my car he asks me if he can ask just one question – I just kind of looked at him knowing he was going to ask anyway. He grabs my smooth as silk hands with his painfully rough hands and wants to know why no one kisses with their tongue anymore and moves in for the kill. I successfully averted his smooch and refrained from kicking him in his smooth area to prevent any future procreation but figured I’d save that for his next girlfriend/cousin/sister/aunt/ Russian mail order bride.

I rushed home to tell my roommate about the trainwreck of a date and her only advisement was to avoid guys named Mike – sometimes I do but this was bigger than that – how about avoid people who date their family and talk about it in the most forlorn of ways! I got really good at avoiding Frat Boy Mike for the following few months that he continued to be at the convention center, despite his attempts at a second date. It’s a shame there’s not a dating background check that would flag these sort of UNDATABLE fucktards, it would make life so much easier but probably less interesting to write about. 

Point of the Conversation: When someone tries to make out with you after self professing a very sordid familial love affair, I give you permission to dump the broccoli soup over their head and run. While you’re at it, play it safe and try to avoid guys named Mike.

- Scarlett


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