How I spent Sunday or defining “let’s be friends”

Continuing with the story of my weekend (my first date story here)…

Friday morning, a friend (the one who’s also exploring online dating) emailed to ask if I’d be interested in going to the baseball game with her on Sunday. A guy she’d been out with a few times invited her and “a friend” to the game – she’d expressed to him that she’d like to just be friends, and she’d told me a couple of times that I might be a better fit for him since they didn’t seem to connect. Let’s continue to call him Insurance Guy.

I’m not a huge baseball fan. Hell, I’m not a sports fan. But the invite to spend time with my friend, enjoy a game (and a few beers) from a suite, and possibly meet someone who might be a match seemed like a good idea. I agreed.

On the drive to the stadium, she filled me in – Insurance Guy is a nice guy, owns a successful business, has been divorced for eight years, just ended a six-year relationship, but just not into running (she’s a marathoner). The lack of his willingness to run 26 miles was a deal breaker for her. Of course, she thought I might be compatible.

Side note: While my bar is set at an average level for dating (unless you live in your parent’s basement and are unemployed and think you’re invisible and play D&D all day…), my criteria include a few more things other than “does not run marathons.”

We laughed and talked about our online dating experiences on the way to the stadium. I filled her in on my date with B. She told me that she and Insurance Guy had dinner the night before with two other couples. The dinner reaffirmed that she thought of him as a friend, and nothing more. She said she gave him the friends talk – again – the night before the game.

As soon as we entered the suite, I knew there was a problem. Insurance Guy light up when he saw my friend. He rushed over to her, hugged her, rubbed her back in a more-than-friendly way, and led her further into the room. I realized that this dude wasn’t getting the “friends” thing.

I stayed close to my friend throughout the couple of hours we were at the game. We separated ourselves from the rest of the attendees, including Insurance Guy. But there was no escaping him.

At one point, my friend and I were sitting just outside the suite. She was sitting as far away as possible from Insurance Guy;  I was closer to the suite door. Insurance Guy leaned in as far as he could to try to get in front of my friend. Instead he was totally in my personal space, his big head far too close to mine. He was trying to convince my friend to go for a walk with him. Not happening.

Insurance Guy was weird. He was entirely insincere. He made really bad jokes and had a super annoying laugh (and he laughed at his own jokes, a lot). For example, at least four times in the couple of hours we were there, he “joked” about the “touchdowns” during the baseball game. And then he laughed hysterically. We get it, dude, and it still isn’t funny.

He also sent his “friends” in the suite out into the stadium to buy him microbrews. Seems he is too good to drink the local fave national beer, which was stocked in the suite fridge. Even more disturbing, he didn’t offer my friend or me the better beer. Nope, we were left with drinking the beer in the suite – the beer he wouldn’t drink. Insurance Guy also kept talking about money – “ordering pizza here cost me $42 for one large pie” and “That 6-pack of soda was $18.” Who the F- cares, dude? If money is an issue, don’t do the suite thing.

The guys he invited to the suite were super creepy, too. One guy, a beer-bellied middle-aged balding guy, kept making reference to what a jerk he thinks the star player is. “He walks around like he has a 12-inch dick,” beer-belly kept saying – at least five times he referenced the player’s manhood. Jealous much?

My friend and I couldn’t wait to leave. Luckily, she told him we had to leave by 3, which left us only a few hours to “enjoy” the suite. Insurance Guy hugged both of us before we left – lingering way too long when he hugged my friend. On the walk to the car, I told her that Insurance Guy wasn’t on the same “friends” page, and that I thought she needed to be super aggressive with letting this guy go.

The afternoon didn’t go quite as planned, but I continued my weekend streak of laughing and smiling – albeit for different reasons than my date with B. Cross Insurance Guy off my friend’s dating list – and mine.

Coming soon: a few more thoughts about B.

5 thoughts on “How I spent Sunday or defining “let’s be friends”

  1. Definitely cut icky dense insurance guy off the friends list–for life! He has creepy uncouth friends too..he sounds like he’d become one of those gum-on-you-shoe types you can’t get rid of without a restraining order.

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