I'm Going to Hell

I had a blind date last week. I figured I should get back out there, and this guy came highly recommended. Good job, two dogs, nice apartment, just moved back from London.

We met at 7pm last Friday at the rooftop hotel bar near my office. Before our date, I asked for a description to make for an easier recognition. He said he was 5'8 (I thought he was making a joke at first. He wasn't.) He also said he was almost 40 (again, another non-joke disappointment.) He showed up, true to form, and we grabbed a drink.

No more than 10 minutes after we sat down, two co-workers entered the otherwise empty bar, and sat directly behind us. They had a perfect view of my non-perfect date. When I got up to go to the bathroom, they called me over, asking if I needed an emergency call. While I was kinda bored, and not so attracted to my date, he was a nice guy and I could stick it out.

Shortly into the date, I told the guy that I had 9:30pm dinner plans which SHOCKED him (he must have lived in London way too long to not understand the importance of back-up plans.) He was slightly hurt, but I needed an out. I couldn't imagine 2 more hours with this dude. He was nice and attractive, there just wasn't a spark.

A little after 9pm, we closed out the tab, walked out of the bar, down the elevator, and out through the lobby. I turned left, he turned right. I snuck behind a pole, watched him get into a taxi and drive away. I then re-entered the lobby, took the elevator up, walked into the bar, and sat down next to my co-workers. I drank a few glasses of sangria, hung out with them for an hour or so, then called it a night and went to bed. Yes, I am going to hell. But I think I'll have friends there at least....