Anonymous Narrator: "Retired"

*All "Anonymous Narrator" Posts are written by an anonymous person in their own words. 

I had declared my retirement from dating a few months prior.  I was content to become a lifetime bachelorette.  I had removed myself from the Game, taken off the jersey, and hung it up. 

We made small talk in line at Ralph's. He was behind me, buying a six pack.  He hurried out after me while I was loading my car and said, "this is always awkward, but may I take you out sometime?"  He was polite and sweet and kinda cute and that NEVER EVER happens to me and since I’d only seen it happen in movies, I said to myself "retirement be damned, reward this poor bastard for being brave and bold.”  I said yes.  We exchanged numbers and we agreed to shoot for Saturday. After exchanging voicemails and texts, we finally decided on The Getty, where we met in the late afternoon.  I was nervous, I don't think I've ever gone on a real, honest to goodness, never-known-you-before first date.

Upon arriving late, his first comment was soaked in disappointment, “Aw…you’re not wearing your glasses,” to which I replied, "your line is, 'You look nice.'" He spent the next 20 minutes talking about his job without stopping to try and include me in the conversation, so I just listened… for a long time. Finally he asked me what I did. I told him and without blinking, he replied, "I hate Johnny Depp and never see any of his movies." Oh, ok! Moving on…

We went to the exhibit of photographs of Tokyo from the 1960s and I was trying to tell him that my dad spent part of his childhood there and attempted to discuss the work.  He was not interested in my father or the art and kept telling me that all his friends are married with kids and it became very apparent very quickly, that he just wanted to be married with kids, too.  Hardly being able to get much of a word in edge-wise, I stopped talking really.  I listened to what he had to say and tried to enjoy looking at the art.  He wouldn't really let me pay attention because I had to hear all about this hilarious story about how he forgot his hair brush when he moved into the college dorms and had to drive two hours north to get it from his mom. 

“Why didn’t you just go buy a new brush?” 

“I missed my mom.” 

“Oh.” 

When we entered the Surrealist portion of the exhibit, I tried telling him about how one photograph reminded me of a part of a surrealist film I saw once.  He then inquired, “oh, so you know about art and shit?”  If he had bothered to ask me where I went to school, etc, he might have known that I dabble. 

About an hour in, he wanted to know my work schedule and when he found out how much I work and that I would be going on vacation at the end of that month, he got upset and wanted to know when he was ever going to see me.  He did not seem to enjoy any of the art, declared his hatred for sculpture, and made fun of me for being moved by Monet's Sunset. “Why, then,” I ventured, “did you suggest we come to an art museum on this date?”  He did not pick up on any of my sarcasm.  None of it.  Ever. 

We made our way to the exhibit that is currently featured, showing the growth and development of LA from 1700 to 2000.  Very interesting.  He seemed more interested in this part of the museum, except he kept talking about marriage and kids and at this point, I was completely put off.  I could smell the desperation on him and it was the most unattractive thing ever.  We were looking at floor plans for typical houses in early LA suburbs and he started talking about how if I was in movies, then I surely could afford to buy us a nice house and he would be more than willing to retire early to take care of our kids.  I told him he needed to pump the brakes on the whole future-talk and that the most future-talk I was comfortable with would be what part of the museum we'd move to next.  He asked if he was being too "silly" while mussing up my hair to which I replied, "dunno if I'd call it 'silly' but you're being too much of something."  It went right over his head.

We make our way to the terrace and what would possibly have been a nice end to a first date, watching the sunset over the hills with a beautiful view at a beautiful place, he pointed out the houses we could live in and talked about how our mixed babies would be so cute.  And, because I would have all this money since I would be rich as all people in movies are, we could buy a real nice house, blah blah blah.  I finally joked, "I have two words for you, buddy, PRE NUP" and he was like, "oh, we won't get divorced, there are ways to get around that." Then looked at me and looked over the railing of the terrace and inferred that he could easily drop me over and kill me, making it look like an accident and collect life insurance money.  This is when I end the date. 

Unfortunately we still have to get back down the hill from the museum to the parking lot.  He wants to walk down instead of taking the tram, and I agreed since my motivation to leave was peaked and I was pretty sure I could beat the tram by power walking down hill.  He wants to hold my hand. I say no and he says, "Oh, you're one of those unaffectionate people." … Sure, let’s go with that.  I take the opportunity to explain to him that I am interested in neither marriage nor children and I work a lot and have a lot of ambition with respect to my career and therefore don't have time to date.  At all.  Ever. Finally at the bottom of the hill, he asks to sit down and talk.  In college, my girlfriends and I would refer to “the talk” as a DTR, the “Discuss/Determine The Relationship” talk. You guessed it, he wanted to have a DTR at the bottom of that hill.  On the first date.  I was losing my patience quickly and asked him what he wanted and he basically said he wanted the opportunity to change my mind about wanting to date, get married and have kids.  He could work from anywhere with his laptop and would be happy to be at my apartment waiting for me when I got home from work late. And when I went on location for the next movie, he could simply come with me!  Why wasn’t I getting this!?  I finally cut him off, "Dude, I'm not your girl."  He asked if I was hungry.  I said no.  He asked if he could kiss me.  I said no.  He asked if he could walk me to my car.  I just started walking.  We got to the car and exchanged a brief, distant hug, and then the brazen bastard swooped in and kissed me, full on put his tongue in my mouth and then, in response to my, "What the fuck?!" as I was pushing him away, said, "I just wanted to show you what you'd be missing."

My dating jersey has been removed again, hermetically sealed in a shadow box, and hung in a place of honor in the Dating Failures Hall of Fame.  I hear they're retiring my number.  I'm kind of a big deal.