Grease and coffee

The plan was to meet at noon for lunch. He told me he would be coming from work so he would be wearing his work uniform. A blue shirt with his name written in blue thread on the left front shoulder. Good thing he told me because he didn't look like the photo online.

I arrived ten minutes early. I waited until 12:15 when I was thinking to give him another 5 minutes then I was planning to leave. All of a sudden he appears from the back of the restaurant with his check ready to pay. I said hi and asked, "Didn't we agree to meet at noon?" He said, Yeah, we did but I got here early." "Oh, okay. So then are you finished eating already?" I asked as I pointed to the check in his hand. "Yeah, but you can still eat. I will sit with you and have some more coffee." He was trying to be nice but I was uncomfortable and a little confused."

The not so exotic smell of grease and coffee retched through my nostrils as I tried not to flinch at the terrible smell as I looked over the menu. So many things to choose from and so many pretty pictures. Much nicer to look at than my date who pointed to his favorites on the menu. When he reached across the sticky maple syrup table, his gross, black grease stained poorly washed nail bitten fingers grossed me out. Just to get the moment rolling, I choose one of his suggestions and placed my order.

As I ate by myself, he told me a story about a friend of his that had a big snake and a big tarantula as pets. Then he continued on telling he how each one died and the guy had gloves, a belt, and boots made from the dead snake. His next choice of topic was even worse. He began telling me about every broken bone he has ever had and about the terrible motorcycle accident he was in but refused to go to the hospital. He said instead he went to a bar and poured shots of alcohol on the open wounds. He even went into detail about the open wounds, gravel inside of his skin, and pulling the torn skin off by himself. Did I mention the small little fact that I WAS EATING! gross. Why would you talk about that stuff on a first date and why would you tell anyone those stories while they are eating?!

At the end of the date, he pays the check and then asks me if I would like to go with him again. Are you kidding me?! I obviously didn't finish my lunch. I think his choice in conversation topics had a lot to do with that. Gross!