Never Date a Musician
I came across Brian's profile and was impressed by his humor and hobbies. Among other things he was a musician-guitar player to be exact. I sent him a little hello note (computer thing again) and soon got a hello back telling me he'd forgotten about his profile and hadn't done anything with it in a while. We chatted online and then on the phone. We had a lot in common and could talk for hours. It was very nice. He wrote poetry and played in a swing band at the G-Spot (a club downtown). After a short while we decided to have dinner at The Melting Pot, a fondue restaurant in Chestnut Hill. It was a little expensive, but I like fondue and was looking forward to meeting Brian.
I should have turned around when I walked in and found him hitting on the bartender (at least it was a girl). She seemed happy I took him off her hands as we were seated. I instantly felt like I was a child. I like to think of myself as intelligent with a pretty good amount of knowledge in this brain, but I got the feeling this was not what Brian was seeing. He patiently explained how the menu worked even though I told him I'd been there before. When the waiter tried to tell us the specials he waved him off arrogantly and ordered for us. I felt invisible and I could see the waiter was ticked.
The dinner conversation was him telling me how he learned Portuguese in 2 weeks so he could speak it when he went to meet his girlfriend's parents 4 years ago. Followed by how much he missed her and how no one would ever be as perfect as she was. Okay, now I really wanted to go home.
In an effort to change the subject I commented on the interesting ring he was wearing. He got an air of superiority and told me it was an ohm, "you know what an ohm is don't you?" It was on the tip of my tongue to say "Well I assume it's the Buddhist meditation chant not the unit of electrical resistance" but I didn't get the chance. He lectured me on the subject for a bit then mercifully went to the bathroom.
While he was gone I found myself praying he would just leave me with the check. It would be worth the money if I didn't have to put up with him anymore. The waiter came and halfheartedly asked if we wanted coffee or dessert. I begged him not to even offer it and to please bring the check as quickly as possible. He laughed, came right back with the check and wished me luck. Sadly, Brian came back.
He paid the bill, not letting me chip in because that was the man's job (give me a break). We walked upstairs, said good night and went our separate ways. Now, I have to point out here that it was dark and I had parked on a side street a few blocks away. Not that I would have wanted him to, but for someone who was so concerned about being "the man" he didn't even offer to walk me to my car after he asked where I was parked.
Note to self: Beware of musicians, they tend to like themselves more than anyone else.
I should have turned around when I walked in and found him hitting on the bartender (at least it was a girl). She seemed happy I took him off her hands as we were seated. I instantly felt like I was a child. I like to think of myself as intelligent with a pretty good amount of knowledge in this brain, but I got the feeling this was not what Brian was seeing. He patiently explained how the menu worked even though I told him I'd been there before. When the waiter tried to tell us the specials he waved him off arrogantly and ordered for us. I felt invisible and I could see the waiter was ticked.
The dinner conversation was him telling me how he learned Portuguese in 2 weeks so he could speak it when he went to meet his girlfriend's parents 4 years ago. Followed by how much he missed her and how no one would ever be as perfect as she was. Okay, now I really wanted to go home.
In an effort to change the subject I commented on the interesting ring he was wearing. He got an air of superiority and told me it was an ohm, "you know what an ohm is don't you?" It was on the tip of my tongue to say "Well I assume it's the Buddhist meditation chant not the unit of electrical resistance" but I didn't get the chance. He lectured me on the subject for a bit then mercifully went to the bathroom.
While he was gone I found myself praying he would just leave me with the check. It would be worth the money if I didn't have to put up with him anymore. The waiter came and halfheartedly asked if we wanted coffee or dessert. I begged him not to even offer it and to please bring the check as quickly as possible. He laughed, came right back with the check and wished me luck. Sadly, Brian came back.
He paid the bill, not letting me chip in because that was the man's job (give me a break). We walked upstairs, said good night and went our separate ways. Now, I have to point out here that it was dark and I had parked on a side street a few blocks away. Not that I would have wanted him to, but for someone who was so concerned about being "the man" he didn't even offer to walk me to my car after he asked where I was parked.
Note to self: Beware of musicians, they tend to like themselves more than anyone else.
posted by Liz at 1:25 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home