Date #5

I feel dirty.

Two dates in two days at the same cafe. I even wore the same outfit.

After I finished my rant about expats and traveling yesterday, last night I met... another expat who just returned from holiday in Vienna. This one was Hungarian and his accent was instantly detectable. He was also 10 years my senior and smoking hot.

I was 20 minutes late and I couldn't find parking, so by the time I scampered into the cafe, I was flustered. He was sitting alone at a table in the corner with two glasses of water in front of him. I did a check around the bar to make sure he was the only single male and that he was indeed my date.

"Hi," I said as I took off my jacket.

"Do you want to do another lap around the bar?" he asked.

"No, I'm good." I sat down.

"You're 19 minutes late," he said.

"I know! I'm sorry! I had a difficult time finding parking. I was on my the third trip up the street when you called."

"You're paying. When you're 19 minutes late, you pay. Those are my dating rules."

Inwardly, I groaned. He was one of those people with a dry sense of humor. I don't do well with those people because I can never tell if he's trying to be funny or just plain mean. It's not a style of humor that I can work with and do the call and response bit. And should it really be called a style of humor when no one is laughing?

He immediately asked me about my experience on eH and seemed taken aback when I told him he was date #5. He asked how my dates went and I told him about my date with the guy that walked 10 feet in front of me like we were living in Iraq and how he didn't ask me any questions about me. He seemed down on eHarmony, saying that he didn't believe in the matching like the site boasts. Then he told me of a flaw he perceived in my profile.

"Yeah, well I guess I should have started a new sentence," I conceded. I switched topics to Hungary. "Tell me about Hungary. I don't know anything about the country."

"It's a shit hole."

I try again. "What's the landscape like?"

"It's flat."

"Is it sandy or agricultural?"

"Agricultural."

"I have a really unusual last name, and I'm told it's from the borderland of Austria and Hungary."

"Borderland?"

"Yeah, you know, where the countries touch, or border if you will."

And he just would not let my use of the word "borderland" go. He said no one actually calls it that and he kept making fun of it. And it made me feel stupid. I'm not a world traveler so I'm not hip on my Eastern European slang. I hate feeling stupid and I hate that this guy across the table from me is acting like I'm stupid. Because I'm not.

Then he started giving me false information just to see if I was smart enough to know better. Thankfully, I caught him every time but he wouldn't let my original mistake go.

I watched as he continued his one-man show about the fucking borderland. I got this guy's number. You know who he is? He's the guy who insults women to get them into bed. They say things like You're pretty, for a tall girl. He'll needle you and make you question whether he's pulling your pigtails like a kindergartner or just generally insulting you. His goal is for women to seek his approval because it seems so hard to obtain.

So I ordered another glass of red wine. If he wants to play that game, I can play it. I have been teased enough growing up that know what insulting is.

We had moved on to electronics. He was telling me that the one nice thing in his house is the stereo setup from his iPad. Apparently he can turn on the upstairs and downstairs systems with his iPad.

I shrugged, unimpressed. "Doesn't matter if you're just going to play shitty music."

He leaned back, "Did you see what you just did?"

"I know exactly what I just did."

"You degraded the entire worth of something based on whether it fit your taste."

"I know."

"When did the tables turn?" The Hungarian was impressed. It also reinforced that he was playing the game.

He spoke of his sister a lot. That was the one redeeming factor about him. He spoke of his sister very lovingly and how great their relationship is even though she's living in Switzerland.

The check came. "Are you going to pay?" he asked. He had been drinking chamomile tea while I had been guzzling merlot. I picked up the bill and looked at it. His tab was $1.99. Mine was $12.00.

I looked at him. "If that's how you want to be remembered, I'll pay. If that's how you want to be remembered."

I put my card down. All of a sudden he was embarrassed. "I'll buy you dinner."

He asked where I parked and walked with me the block or so to my car. At the car, he faced me and pinned me against my car and went in for the kiss. I was so disgusted with myself.

I joined eHarmony to meet a nice guy and have a relationship, but what do I end up doing? Kissing the first bad boy I come across. I knew his game. I knew it. I was not surprised in the least when we get to my car and he tells me how pretty I am. It's what that kind of guy does. He spends the whole night insulting you and throws you one small compliment at the end so the girl can jump up and down and clap Approval! Approval! He likes me!

This guy did not deserve to be kissed. But I kissed him anyway. As he was leaning in, I tried to remember the last time a guy tried to kiss me and I grew sad because it has been such a long time. I wanted to be kissed. Just not by this guy. But he was here in front of me, leaning in, smelling good, looking hot.

He kissed and he kissed. He was a fabulous kisser. I bet people walked by us thought that we were in love and I hated that I gave that impression. I was not in love. I just liked that this gorgeous man wanted to kiss me.

"Dinner Saturday? I'm buying."

"Okay."

I feel dirty.