She just wouldn't shut up

Wanted to post something before wrapping up a thoroughly uneventful weekend...

I've got plenty of material in the archives, but had to go with something current here, before I forget, or worse, ask her out again. I had a date Friday night, and it was bad. Not awful by any stretch of the imagination, but not good either. We had spent a couple of days chatting back and forth on "that site" and eventually took it over to IM, including a couple of multi-hour chats (or whatever the bloody hell they're called now). She seemed like fun and we had some good conversations leading up to the date. We had exchanged lots of stories about our respective bad dates, and she assured me she wouldn't be "another story." She's far from my worst, but definitely not going up on the wall of fame either.

We decided on a bar near my apartment (I had no assumptions or expectations about bringing her home...it was a first date after all). She's unemployed at the moment, and spent the day at "home" on Long Island yesterday. There were apparently some train issues, so the scheduled start time ended up being pushed back a bit...no biggie. I got there a few minutes ahead of the revised meeting time, and she showed up a few minutes late (good start). Texted her to let her know I was outside, and described myself as "the nerdy fucker in the khakis and blue stripey shirt." She was cute...far from beautiful, but definitely not bad looking. She told me "nerdy fucker" might have been a bit generous, and that "cute geek" would be more accurate. We're off to a good start here (with no sarcasm this time). I was excited. We walked into the bar...it wasn't terribly crowded, but was kind of loud. 30 seconds after we showed the bouncer our IDs, she said she's like an old woman and it was too noisy for her, so we had to leave. Probably should have ended the date there, but suggested a quieter, slightly lamer place 2 doors down. We went in, grabbed a table, ordered our drinks and, as they say, let the games begin...

Unfortunately, I barely spoke the rest of the evening. It wasn't that I didn't have anything to say...it wasn't that I didn't want to participate in the conversation. It was just that she didn't shut up the ENTIRE time. Some of it was interesting, some was mundane, some was superficial...some was entirely too much information for a first date. She'd ask me questions, and go off into some bizarre, tangential story before I could get half an answer out.

She started by telling me that I was already miles ahead of most of her other recent dates...I was flattered, for about 3 seconds. That was all it took for her to clarify the statement and explain that the other guys she's gone out with have been such enormous losers that the bar was set pretty low. Apparently there was a guy with rather offensive B.O., another one who weighed "300 or maybe 350 pounds more than his pictures," and a third who had the audacity to put his arm around her 10 minutes into their date (oh, the horror). I casually (and sarcastically) explained that I had a great workout earlier in the day, dropping 50 or so pounds, took two showers to cover up my manly aroma and that, although I didn't put my arm around her, I had given serious thought to attempting a boob grab while we were walking from bar 1 to bar 2 (I think she got the joke).

From there, she started telling me about how, the night before, she had an emotional dinner with her ex roommate (and step cousin, or something) who moved out 9 months ago to live with her boyfriend of 4 months (who she met on this very website). Apparently, my lovely date had seen the ex roommate's boyfriend trolling for ass on the site as recently as last week, and had to break the news to her inevitably devastated friend. At this point, I started jamming to Dave Matthews in my head.

Now, I know there are certain things that are supposedly off limits for a first date...past relationships, sexual history, politics being the holy trinity as far as I'm concerned. I wish I could say it ended there, but no...she managed to broach all three of these in one fell swoop...went into painful detail about every one of her serious relationships since high school, told me about how she had gotten into a fight with her gay best friend because she blew his cousin (for a second, I thought fellatio might be the only way to get her to stop talking) and then told me about how she hates her sister for being a hot republican in a family full of liberals. I was about 7 drinks deep at this point, and my head was starting to spin...sadly, not because of the alcohol.

The pain continued for a little while longer...I heard about her mom's breast cancer, her dad's pool, hot tub and grill, how her dad (a plastic surgeon) gave her a nose job when she was 16 and how he would LOVE me (not sure what would give her that impression...I barely spoke the entire night). As she finished her third drink (and I finished my ninth), she informed me that she was getting "tipsy." I saw this as my out, grabbed the check and we left. I gave her a little hug, told her I had fun and walked home, wondering what the hell had just happened. Woke up the next morning with a headache and figured it was a hangover, but I'm starting to realize it was her. The simple act of thinking about the date enough to give the cliffs notes version here is giving me a migraine...