For all my discussions of idiotic behavior I deal with every day, I’ve neglected to delve into one area of my life that naturally attracts idiots: my dating life. So from here on out I’ll share a bit more on that, beginning with last night’s date.

It was actually a second date with a guy I wasn’t sure I wanted to see again. He’s good looking and seemed nice enough but he’s also a bit younger than I like and our conversations in person and on the phone were somewhat of a struggle. But he made a decent offer of dinner and shooting pool so I accepted.

I should have known something was amiss when he offered to pick me up and I said I thought it might be better if I drove myself. He basically told me that was lame and that he wasn’t dangerous or anything. As if I should take his word on that. I’m sure all the really dangerous guys are upfront with their intentions: “I’d like to take you to dinner and dancing and then rape you, torture your body and leave it in a ravine. How does that sound, cupcake?” Seriously, what kind of guy has a problem with a woman not wanting to ride in a car with someone who’s essentially a stranger?

Since we were meeting at the location and since his cell phone wasn’t working, he was somewhat adamant about us both being there at 8:00 on the dot. Normally, I’d try to be about 10-15 minutes late to give the guy a chance to arrive before me, but because of his plea, I arrived only five minutes late. And this meant I had to miss the last- and best- minutes of Sixteen Candles on tv. Even though I’ve seen the movie at least 20 times, I hated missing those last two scenes. When I’m 80 I’ll still be fantasizing about standing in front of that church and having Jake Ryan motion to me. I look around then point to myself, “ME?” and he says, “Yeah you” then we risk serious chest burns for that sweet first kiss. I’m telling you men, if you want to win a woman over, rent an old red Porsche, buy a cake with 16 candles and find a sturdy table. We’re ALL suckers for that. Oh, and it helps if you actually look like Jake Ryan (who am I kidding? If you look like Jake Ryan, you don’t need any of the other stuff).

Anyway, I arrived to find my date wasn’t there yet so I took a seat at the bar and bought myself a drink. Not a problem. He finally showed up about 15 minutes later and we sat down on some couches. He didn’t say anything about dinner and didn’t order a drink for himself. I already knew he doesn’t drink alcohol, which isn’t a big deal, but I do prefer a guy who sometimes likes to toss back a cocktail or six. I don’t want a raging alcoholic but an occasional night of drunkenness is fun. What was a bit of an issue for me was that he didn’t order anything to drink. Between cocktail waitressing, bartending and stand up comedy, most of my adult life has been spent hawking beverages so I’m not too keen on the freeloaders. If you want a night of free entertainment, stay home. If you go out, at least buy a two dollar Coke.

Once again, conversation did not come easily as he asked me a bunch of personal questions. I realize that’s how normal people get to know each other and it’s my own idiosyncracy that makes me not want to answer those questions. I’m the type who’s not interested in someone’s “stats,” I’d rather get to know their personality. But I politely answered some of his questions and asked him a few of the same to which he gave brief answers. That pretty much put the whole weight of talking on me.

We started a game of pool and halfway through he asked what I wanted to do next. What next? I thought pool was the plan. Why did there have to be a “next”? I learned that he had parked somewhere on the street instead of using the valet, which was probably the reason he was so late. Sure, he didn’t mind moving to another location, but I paid to park and I was staying there.

Toward the end of the pool game I was practically waving my empty glass in his face but he didn’t seem to notice. We finished our game and headed back to the couches. As we passed the bar, I said, “I’m getting another drink, do you want anything?” Even though I don’t mind buying a guy a drink, in this situation, if he’d accepted I probably would have ended the date right that moment. But he just said, “No” and left me at the bar to head back to the sofa. I couldn’t believe it. This was the third time in the last few months that a guy asked me out and didn’t even buy me one lousy drink. And one of the previous cheapskates actually had the nerve to invite me on another date. When a guy doesn’t buy me a drink, he’s basically saying to me, “I never want to see you again.” Ok, maybe that’s not what he’s saying, but that’s what I’m hearing and that’s exactly what’s going to happen. In the 15 minutes I’d spent waiting for my date, two guys I’d never met before offered to buy me a drink and my lameass date couldn’t even do the same.

I sat down with him and he finally asked if I was hungry. I was but at that point, I was just looking for a reason to leave. Unfortunately, as a poker player, I can’t use the “I have to get up early” excuse. I really do need to come up with a good one. We actually managed to have a decent conversation, though it was mostly about politics and we disagreed on a lot. Then he said he’s not a registered voter, which voided most of his arguments in my mind. My philosophy is: You don’t vote, you don’t get to complain about anything. Or, at least, I don’t want to listen to your whining.

Somewhere around this time I discovered his refusal to buy me a drink was not due to a lack of interest as he grabbed my chin to kiss me. I said, “Don’t do that.” In fact, I said it in such a forceful way that I busted up laughing. I think he believed it was simply because of the location and had no idea what a crappy date he was.

Then he mentioned something about a shirt he saw that he really wanted. Instead of the “I (heart) New York” design, it was an “I (plane) New York” design. Now, my sense of humor definitely leans toward the dark side. And I’ve laughed at quite a few jokes surrounding 9/11- I even made a few of my own on 9/11. But none of them had the death of innocent people as the sole punch line. There has to be some other element to make it funny. If the plane had been directed at something else, perhaps at a politician, I could see the humor in it. I could even understand why people in Iraq would think it’s funny but as he described it, I didn’t see why an American would. I asked him why he thought it was funny and he said, “None of them were innocent. It hit a few thousand corporate thieves. Big deal.”

As someone who often makes offensive statements in attempts at humor, I give people the benefit of the doubt that they might be making a joke that didn’t really hit its target. So I asked him, “You’re joking right?” He said, “No.” I repeated, “Come on- you must be kidding.” He said, “No I’m not.” I gave him one last chance, “Really, tell me you’re joking.” He wasn’t. So I stood up and said, “I’m going to take off now.” That’s when he said, “Don’t go- I was joking.” I expected him to say that because when guys realize they may have blown their chance to get laid, they’ll say anything. Too late.

Another date, another LA loser. I wouldn’t be the slightest bit surprised if he ended the night thinking, “I can’t believe I wasted a whole 75 cents on her.”