The Diplomat Knight (Part Deux)

The morning following my day in the trenches with the Diplomat Knight I sat straight up in my bed at roughly 5:30am.  I think the horror of what today could bring had woken me from a dead sleep.  The rest of my bunkmates in the hostel were tucked in their beds, sleeping peacefully . I was on the brink of a panic attack. My gears seemed to be going before I opened my eyes. 

What do I do? Do I sell the ticket on Craigslist? Do I go to the game and try to find a fan in the parking lot to sell it to? Do I just eat the $100? AND WHAT ABOUT TODAY! 

The Knight had mentioned when we were parting the day before, that he would have the whole day available today, and "wanted to try to get to see some of the museums today". This was not on my agenda at this point AT ALL. Mission for today was move the ticket, and come up with some excuse as to why I could not spend the day with him. 

First task: See if I can make lemonade out of this ticket business.  It was early in the morning and not too late to believe that I could sell/give away the ticket to one of my friends in Jersey or the surrounding states.  I began to reach out to anyone I could think of. I didn't care about the money, I cared about having a great night at a great game, and making the most of it.  I called and texted Giants fans back in Jersey to see if anyone wanted to come down for the game and a night of fun. The over arching sentiment was that I was insane for going to a game in Maryland, and no they couldn't drive 4+ hours to come with me.  DANG.

Next step: Craigslist.  I put up a post stating that I had one extra ticket, the price and my contact info. I felt like this had to work. Everyone sells things on Craigslist. . . this sucker is going to move! I calmed down a bit. I was willing to sit next to some complete stranger rather than this guy. 

Now I had to formulate an excuse as to why I could not be available for the day.  I can't say I am going back to Jersey because, well, if the ticket doesn't move than I'm stuck with it. I knew he was interested in seeing the game and had offered the money for the ticket yesterday, but I declined because it was one of the first things he mentioned, and stupid me had left the ticket at home. He had put his money away when I mentioned I didn't have the ticket and we both agreed that we could handle the money business the day of the game. Totally dumb move on my part. 

Excuses, excuses.  Where was I going to find one! 

He knew I could work remotely and had earmarked time for the game and touring this day, so how could I make it work related. . . Hmmmm.  

I don't like lying and I'm actually quite crap at it, so this was very difficult. How do I deep six the day together, but not put him off for the game if I don't get an opportunity to move this ticket. As I was mulling over my options the phone rang. It was him!! Ahhhhh!! Instinctually I picked it up before it went to voice mail. My mind was darting all over, combing my brain for excuses. I don't think my brain has ever been so vacant in my entire life. 

He was chipper and friendly.  He asked if I was ready to go into town in the next hour or so to begin walking around and seeing museums. 

"Um, yeah. I wanted to talk to you about that," I said sheepishly. 

Maybe you call it instinct; like the way a mother can pick up a sedan if her baby was stuck under it. Nearly as quickly as I was fishing for an answer in my head I had one materialize.

"I got a call from a colleague who is putting together a marketing plan for their company.  They have some crazy deadline to present it to their big wigs and they are freaking out because they need help with the social media part. They want to bring me in for that aspect of the business, which would be great for me, but this means that I am going to have to work on this project TODAY."

I was shocked at the ease with which this story rolled off my tongue. Who was I? I guess desperation had led me down a path of lying, and I was totally shocked at how believable it was.  

"Oh," he said.  "Will you still be able to go to the game?"

"I think so right no, but I will have a better idea around 2 today.  Does that work?"I asked.

"Sure. Give me a call then. I am going to go into downtown and probably go check out some museums."

Excellent. I had bought myself some time during the day to try to find someone to take this ticket, left the door open to go with him as a last resort and now had the day to myself.  I packed up my belongings, loaded up my car and caught a bus into downtown to have a wander for a few hours. 

I periodically checked my phone throughout the day to see if this ticket was getting any bidders on Craigslist. Nothing.

"Really," I thought. 

I had put a hard stop on heading out to the game around 6pm so that there was time for transit, a bite to eat and maybe even have a wander around the parking lot to see how Redskins fans tailgated. At 2pm he called to check in.   

"How's it going?" he asked.

"Umm, I am hoping to be done by 4pm. Can you ring me then?" I responded

"OK. Let's meet at the Air and Space Museum around 6pm. We can then go get a bite to eat, before we take the train to the stadium so dinner is not so expensive," he added.  

"Sure," I said.  

This gave me two hours to sell a ticket, get back to my hostel to get the tickets, dress for the game and head out. Damn. It really looks like I am going to end up going with this dude. Shit.

When 4pm arrived and I still had no takers on the ticket I gave up. I would just go with this guy to the game and suck it up. I was already hemorrhaging money between the stay, the drive, the tickets, hostel and meals. I was going to have to make this work. 

I rang him back at 4pm to confirm our plans for the evening. He carried on about his day, and I think I put the phone down trying to find the inner peace it would take for this event. I hung up and began to get ready. I was going to have to fight rush hour traffic in addition to all this other nonsense so it was best I got a move on.  

Stop number one on this crazy train: the liquor store. 

When going to a football game, this novel event it is marked with my ceremonious beer drinking. I enjoy having a beer in the parking lot, while wandering around the tailgating area to show my solidarity to those who are there drinking their faces off. I was also going to need a little boozy treat to make this man more bearable for what could be hours. Some people drink till he's cute. I was drinking so I didn't want to run screaming out of this game that I had worked so hard to get to. I knew I was breaking my two drink rule tonight, and I was totally OK with it.  To be funny, I picked up two 20oz cans of beer and a small plastic flask of Smirnoff vodka.  One for the road and one for the game. I was lock, stocked and ready to go! 

I began my journey to the Air and Space Museum to meet him. Rush hour traffic was a nightmare and it was taking way longer than I thought to get there. I had been texting him with my progress, to make sure that he knew I was coming. When I finally arrived at the museum I was over 45 minutes beyond the specced time, starving and dying to get to the game. He met me outside the museum, presented me with some space ice cream (which I love) and I remarked at what a nice gesture it was that he was so thoughtful.  Turns out the explained that this gift was part of a few packages of a multipack he purchased and were keeping for himself. Not so special after all. Here was the guy I knew from yesterday!! 

He asked if I had gotten something to eat. I said that I had not eaten dinner yet, and agreed it was a good idea to grab a bite before we got to the stadium.  He suggested McDonalds.  

"Um, no," I thought. 

I said that it wasn't really my thing, and perhaps we could stop somewhere on the way to the station. We ended up grabbing a bite to eat at a sandwich shop where I had a side salad and a roll and he got a three course meal. He graciously picked up my food as well as his dinner and I thanked him for his generosity.  

We boarded the train to the field,  which was filled with Giants fans!! I was decked out in my Giant's regalia from various kind friends who were supportive of this trip to see our boys play.  He mentioned to me on the ride out to the stadium that he was thinking of wearing his Vikings jersey. I couldn't figure out why he thought this was a good idea, but I smiled and nodded none the less.

As we arrived at the field I handed him his ticket and he paid me for it. It was like someone handing me freedom after years of captivity.  I was awash in emotion knowing now, no matter what happened, I just didn't care. I proceeded to reach into my bag and pull out one of my 20oz cans Miller Lite to celebrate. He looked startled and distressed at this.

"Aren't we going to get in trouble for drinking this in public," he asked.

"You don't work for the State Department any more. What do you care?  Here have one," and I handed him the other can. 

I had no idea about open container laws in the great state of Maryland, and nor did I care.  I was going to have a good night with or with out this dude. He took the can and began drinking his looking unsure if someone was going to come and cart him away to prison for this.  Now this was getting entertaining. 

We decided it was a good idea to wander around he parking lot for a while to check out how the fans tailgated in these parts, and kill some time before the game started. I was impressed at the number of Giants fans that were there.  Periodically we would walk past a group of Redskins fans that would heckle me for my slammin' Giants jacket and some friendly banter would be exchanged. Well, sort of. He would take this opportunity to sell me down the river and share with whomever that I was the Giants fan, and he, being a Vikings fan, had no ties to me or my affliction. Nice guy.

We finished our respective beers and took a few pictures outside the stadium and decided now it was going to be time to make our way into the game. He was dreading the "expensive beers" inside and I knew that this was a great opportunity to really get going with the fun.  Just to freak him out a bit more, I decided to go all hood on him.  

I whipped out my plastic bottle of vodka and proceeded to bend down and take off my shoe. 

"What are you doing," he asked.

"Oh yeah. I figured you may not want to pay for drinks inside, so I got us a bottle of vodka to split. I figure if I smuggle it in in my shoe, no one will notice." A big smile crossed my face as he seemed appalled at this.  Operation Ditch Date had gone into effect. 

I now walked with my "pimp walk" as I was calling it, because the bottle in my shoe was causing me to limp. I strolled through security and into the stadium like a boss. He said he needed to go to the bathroom, so I took this opportunity to head over to the concession stand and get my Diet Coke to spike. I got him and extra cup and we headed to our seats. 

As it turns out, our seats were right next to a pole.  He offered me the seat further from the wall since I was the Giants fan and he didn't really care about the game. I guess that was nice? I said we should move down a few rows till the other people got here so we could potentially sit there if they didn't show up. He begrudgingly moved down a few rows and I was now glued to watching the players warm up on the field. 

No sooner that we had done this but the folks who's seats they were showed up. It was a group of men and women, predominantly Redskins fans, with one Giants fan.  One of the guys in the group told me that we were in the wrong seats. I apologized for sitting in their seats and he told me he would let it slide because I was cute. I think I smiled at him because I thought he was cute too, and then took my albatross and moved down to our assigned seats back by the pole. 

As we settled in we took some pictures of the stadium and the teams warming up he decided that this was a good opportunity to take a walk around the stadium.  I said I was going to hang back and sit tight. I was excited at the opportunity to be alone because now it had gone from a running monologue like the day before to akward silence that neither of us really seemed to care for.  

While he was gone I asked the group of Redskins fans behind me if they would mind taking my picture.  The nice man in the group who had told me we were in his seats volunteered to take my picture "even though I was a Giants fan". We playfully heckled each other back and forth. He told me that he was going to convert me and that he was also going to get my phone number and take me out. I felt that this was bold but exceptionally sweet.  I was trying my best to not let his advances get to me, but I thought he was attractive and funny and therefore I made sure throughout the game to turn around and talk to his friend who was the Giants fan so we could also continue talking.  

The game went on like this.   The Knight wandered around taking pictures, talking with other people in our section and I spent a good portion of the game drinking, talking to the group two rows behind us and randomly hearing the dude who took the picture tell me things like he was going to take me out and make me his girl.  It was like a three ring circus. Everyone was buzzed with the exception of my date who had passed on the second and third rounds of drinks, so I was now picking up the slack and I was OK with that. He had made friends with two dudes that spoke only Spanish and was talking to them about their cameras and not even paying attention to the game. I could have cared!

At some point during the game when my date had gone for another wander/bathroom break/to politic with those in my section, the guy two rows behind me leaned over to talk to me again and invited me to sit with him.  I expressed to him that he was sweet, but I was on a date, and even if I did want to sit with him and his friends there were no seats where he was. He offered that I could sit on his lap.  This guy was phenomenal! I told him he was only hitting on me because he was drunk, and he told me I was a beautiful woman and it had nothing to do with his drinking. He didn't care I was on a date with some other dude, he was trying to pick me up anyway. 

I was seriously considering ditching my date and sitting with them! 

Now that I had a pretty good buzz on this seemed like an even better idea. I began thinking in my head, "If I just make out with the guy behind me, then my date will probably leave, or at least ignore me for the rest of the night."

Clearly this was the alcohol talking and I'm now realizing that I have a long trip back to my hostel, and I need to have my wits about me. I've got to pull the plug on this game/date from hell and get back to my hostel before I am sleeping in the parking lot here. 

The Knight arrives back to our seats and I decree that I never stay for the fourth quarter (again, this is the booze talking). It's late, I'm tired, and I don't want to miss the one and only last train from the stadium when the throngs of people let out.  He can't believe that I want to go.  I tell him I am going to go and he's welcome to come or stay.  

As I got up to get ready to leave, I begin to say goodbye to all the new friends I had made in our section. I hug and kiss goodbye the nice Spanish men next to us and the Redskins fan from two rows behind me sees do this and tells me HE wants a kiss goodbye. For whatever reason, I acquiesce to his request and kiss him on the cheek goodbye as well.   He proceeds to shove a phone in my hand.  He tells me that I have to give him my number so he can call me to take me out. I write in his phone notes: "The Redskins can suck it" and put in my email.  Let's see if he remembers who I am tomorrow!

I stop by the concession stand to grab a hot dog and the Knight goes to the bathroom for the umpteenth time.  I have resolved that as soon as I eat this hot dog, I am off like a shot for the train by myself.  No sooner do I do an about face to figure out what exit to go out, but I run right smack into him. Foiled again! He then takes the liberty of eating the rest of my hot dog. 

I am just as cooked as this dog now.

We proceed to the parking lot and begin walking towards where I think the entrance to the train is. He thinks it's the opposite direction. I tell him that he is not right, and that I am going to walk the direction I am headed because I am sure that I know where I am headed. He takes off to look for signs for the train and that was the last I saw of him.  I am not sure who ditched who, but I walked the way I thought would get me to the train, hid behind a pole so he wouldn't see me at the station and boarded the train back to downtown DC. 

I arrived in downtown DC at roughly 1am. I had no idea where I was in relation to getting back to my hostel and was a little freaked out.  The mall where the Smithsonian was was vacant like I was the last person on earth.  I began walking towards where I thought there may be civilization. Nearly 35 minutes later, I hailed a cab that ultimately took me back to my hostel. Home safe finally. What an adventure!

The following morning around 8:30am I got an email from the Diplomat Knight .

Hey there, 
I tried to find you after we left the stadium but you were no where to be found. It was nice to meet you. Be well.

The pictures of the day before were attached. I guess this is the email I expected and was grateful that clearly both of us knew that this was the last correspondence we would ever have. 

A few days later I was on Facebook and got a friend request from the super sweet man from the football game. Not only this, but as fate would have it, he had emailed me twice during the game after I gave him my email. I never thought to look for the emails because my phone had died and the following morning I was in such a rush to get home, I all but forgot that I had given him the email that I rarely checked. I guess I called him "panoramic" instead of photogenic or who knows. We had all been drinking. . .

Subject: Hey, panoramic dude from the game

Wanted to message you now before a result of the game because I might not want to after lol

Subject:  Still the panoramic guy

Just wanted to let you know you missed an amazing 4th quarter... And I hop to hear from you :)

Remember. . . I love persistence.  

The Diplomat Knight

** This knight will require a two blog post. I still have not determined if this counts as 1 date or 2 separate dates. Perhaps my level of dating fatigue will determine this as we near the end of this EPIC journey**

The Diplomat Knight

While wading through the random messages in my PoF inbox of "hey whtz up" and "hey wanna chat," which I feel warrant none of my attention, I saw an email that caught my eye. So very often on this dating site you get a, "looking good" or "ur cute" or my personal favorite, "why are you posting pictures of your daughter here?"(They are all pics of me.)

Anyway. . . This particular man who I will talk about had taken the time to author a note to me that extended beyond a sentence, was punctuated, and not in text speak. I thought that this, therefore, deserved my attention. 

In his note to me he expressed that he was a diplomat, who had just recently wrapped up living abroad in Africa, and was heading back stateside to start the next chapter of his life in DC. You could tell that he had actually read my profile because he echoed a number of the sentiments I mentioned in it, and asked questions about my wants and life in general. I was impressed at the time that he had devoted to inquiring about me, and the fact that he actually seemed interested in my life, and meeting me. Perhaps he wasn't just looking to fill a Friday night? Thrilling!

I responded back asking him questions about his job, travels and hopes for returning to the US. I was impressed with his traveling, eloquence and work. Further captivating were his pictures which were a veritable montage that portrayed him as a worldly person, showing off his travels from the Far East to Russia. 

Now, anyone who knows me knows that travel is my passion, and I find this to be a hot commodity when looking for a partner. If you are not willing to sling on a backpack, take a 17 hour plane flight, or experience the local souk, you need not apply. This man had been to well over 100 countries and apparently had no fear backpacking a third world country. Bonus!

His pictures indicated that he was a bit older; perhaps in his late 40s at best; totally OK. He appeared tall (plus), well dressed (another plus), and had very kind eyes (I'm a sucker for kind eyes). He seems to be fit and youthful looking (awesome!). I had been having 0 success with the last umpteen dates and thought perhaps I had found someone I could really connect with, so why not try to get to know this guy. 

After a number of emails back and forth on the dating site, we exchanged numbers, and began to text and call.  Texts were brief, and the phone calls usually were just a few minutes when one of us was heading in the car here or there, but we were making an attempt to connect when we could to get to know each other.

NOW. . . During this time, I got a wild hair up my ass, as I sometimes do, and decided that with the Giants season nearing a close, I MUST GET TO A GIANTS game. I don't know why the universe wanted me to go so badly, but I literally felt that if I didn't go to a Giants game ASAP, the world was definitely going to end on December 21st. 

Being a loving family member and friend and hoping to spare my friends and the rest of the world the horror of the world ending I began to research tickets for a game. As fate would have it, the next game they had was to be played was in Maryland at the Redskins home stadium on a Monday night. PERFECT. 

How serendipitous. Here I was, talking to a man that was in DC reconnecting for his next career path and the Giants, my favorite football team, were due to be right in his old stomping ground. I began to have hope maybe all this crumby dating had been for a reason!!

I checked out ticket prices, which were moderate compared to the over inflated prices back North, and rang him with my idea. How much fun would it be to have a first date at a football game! He was impressed with the idea, and never having been to a Redskins game at the new FedEx Stadium, he agreed that this was a great idea. I was elated. He was so excited, he thought that it might be best if  instead of just driving down to see the game, why not spend a couple of days in DC so he could take me on a tour the city and really get to know each other.

I was hesitant.  I am all for going to a game that ran potentially three hours, but more than one day? That seemed excessive. Hmmm.  I rang Kristina who has been my sounding board for this whole dating endeavor. I spoke with her about  my concerns. Some of these dates had me wanting to pull my hair out 30 minutes in. What was I going to do hanging out with some strange man for two days?

She was encouraging and made a good point. DC was a big place, and if it all went south I could always ditch him in a museum. I thought about what she said, realized the merit, and perhaps against that little voice inside of me, decided "what harm could a few days in DC be!"

I went online and found a hostel in DC close to the down town and booked a room at Diplomatic Stay for Sunday and Monday night. I then purchased two tickets to the Monday night game, and let the Knight know that we were a go to meet up when I got into town on Sunday. He was overjoyed that I was coming to DC, and I was thrilled, since my last visit to the capital was when I was in college.

The Sunday morning of my trip I packed my bags, loaded up the car and began the four plus hour journey down to our nations capital.  I enjoyed my book on CD, stopping to grab a Diet Coke and chocolate croissant at my old stomping ground in DE and arrived in DC at just about 2pm.

The hostel I chose was apparently previously the home of the former President of the American Red Cross and was beautiful! I checked myself in to this palatial mansion, got my bunk squared away, and rang the Knight to let him know that I had officially made it to town and was ready to tour DC with him.  We weren't sure where to meet up, since I wasn't familiar with the city or really any of the train or subway stations. He thought it was best if he came to pick me up.

I sat with nervous anticipation in the living room of the mansion. This had all the potential to be a great afternoon of touring and getting to know him, or it was going to be an epic journey of human torment.  I was hoping for the former rather than the later. 

When I got the call that he had arrived at my hostel I guess I thought he was walking or driving; who knows? Maybe I didn't give it a lot of thought. When I walked outside my building there was a cab parked there and a man getting out of it.  Strange. I guess this was him. 

He hailed me over to the cab and I hesitated across the street. Rule number one as a child. Don't get into the car with strangers. Well, this wasn't a car, and I guess he wasn't a stranger? I stood there for a minute debating the idea of getting into this cab with someone I didn't know. Isn't this how horror films start? 

I think the movie The Bone Collector had been on the week before and maybe my gears were going.  The reckless side of me said "fuck it". What are the chances that the driver and this diplomat are in cahoots? I crossed the street and he hugged me "hello".  I said "hello" in return and he helped me into the cab. I waved hello to the driver, and he smiled warmly back at me.  OK. Perhaps I am not going to be a head in a jar in this guy's fridge.

We were now being shuttled off to the subway station where we were going to take the subway into the city.   I settled in for what was about a 10 minute ride and began speaking with the Knight.  He talked to me as if we were old friends, having always known each other, and this was not the first meeting and first time face-to-face. He actually seemed more interested in talking to the driver about how bad the neighborhood we were heading through was, but I sloughed this off as perhaps just nervous banter and re would eventually redirect the conversation back to me.

As he was talking I was surveying him. He resembled the man in the pictures on his profile, but it was as if he had been photo shopped in his pics. My first thought was "this man resembles a not-so-handsome John Edwards".  He was dressed in a red sweater, white tee shirt underneath, khaki pants, a brown suede jacket and really awful brown shoes you would see on someone in a homeless shelter. He dressed like an old man. Ugh.

As I looked at him closer, I noticed a few things that were just shockingly different than his photos.  First: He had a HUGE pot belly that made it look like he was hiding a pillow under his sweater/shirt. As if this wasn't bad enough, his comb-over, that had been very well hidden in his pictures with various hunting, fishing and ski hats, began somewhere at the base of his skull and swirled his head full of grey hair forward in this bizarre bouffant that made Donald Trump's bouffant look moderate. Oh boy. 

As he continued to talk and gesture I noticed he had INCREDIBLY small hands.  Like Austin Powers Carney small hands, small.  His finger nails were chewed down to the nubs and I was grossed out at the thought of the amount of time that this man must have his hands in his mouth. YUCK.

We arrived at the subway station and he had literally not stopped talking the ENTIRE TIME we were in the taxi. It wasn't a conversation, it was a running monologue that continued well into the subway station. OH MY GOD. HOW AM I GOING TO GET THROUGH THE NEXT TWO DAYS! 

We exited the cab and walked into the subway station. He had a metro card but it didn't seem to work and I needed to buy one anyway.  We walked over to the machine for the subway and he seemed confused by the purchase process. Instead of asking me what I thought, trying to figure it out or READING THE DIRECTIONS he immediately asked one of the attendants to come over and help him. OK so he seems like one of these guys who if he doesn't get it immediately he has to have someone do it for him.  Great. 

The attendant proceeds to tell him that he will first have to initiate the sale by putting, maybe it was $1.50 into the machine to tender the card. This threw him into a tizzy. $1.50 to just get the card going! This was preposterous! Why did he have to pay $1.50 to activate a card he was going to have to put money on anyway.  He gets into this whole conversation with the attendant about how everything is so expensive these days and how everyone is always raking you over the coals for more money.  I could have been taken away by a band of chimpanzees and he wouldn't have noticed. He is just on a diatribe about this card and the injustices of capitalism.  

I decide to step in and say that I am happy to pay for the subway tickets. With my money and his attendant we FINALLY purchase our cards and get a move on.  We board the train and his running monologue continues. He's going on and on about how he as 20K pounds of furniture in storage overseas and how expensive it is going to be to get it out, and how costly it will be to get his Mercedes C class from Iowa where it's been at his family's home. I pretend to care but I am already not sure how this is the same person I talked with on the phone. . .

We arrive at Union Station and decide to get lunch.  I ask him where he would like to go, since he is the local, and he tells me that everything in Union Station is different since the last time he has been there. We have a wander and decide on Thunder Grill to have buffalo burgers and beers.  Mind you, the only question he has asked me in this whole rant from my hostel is if I eat buffalo burgers. We walk inside and sit down. I excuse myself to go to the bathroom and wash my hands.  The whole way there and back I am trying to figure out what I am going to do about this game tomorrow. Being the perpetual optimist I am hopeful that this date will get better, but being a stark realist as well, I realize that I have zero chemistry with this guy and now he's just a warm body reimbursing me for a ticket.  

I return to the table to find that he has asked the waitress to not only put on the Vikings football game, but has moved seats and positioned himself to watch the game. Great. Maybe this will cause him to stop talking or at least promote a conversation with some back and forth. We eat our burgers and he continues to tell me about his old job and how they owe him over $400K, his travels, yada yada yada.  

The only information he is getting about me, is information I am offering up so there is some form of a conversation and not a lecture about him.  He houses his burger and returns the first beer that he doesn't like for one that he finds more acceptable.  I am still working on my burger and pretending to fain interest in what he is saying. I find myself watching the football game just so there is something to talk about outside of him. He then proceeds to order dessert while I am still working on my lunch.  He works out on the piece of pecan pie, asks question number two for the day, "Do I want a bite?" I respond OK, accept to be polite and smile as I chew on this bittersweet dessert.

Lunch has now ended and we are only two hours into the day. He seems excited to be out and about in DC and I guess I am happy to have a tour guide? We wander up to the Capitol Building and he tells me about his previous work in DC. I ask questions about working for the government, what it's like living in DC and going to college there. I am trying to get some ping pong going in the conversation, but he just takes the question, answers it and moves on to talking about the next topic.  This process has now become punctuated with the periodic stop to get a picture - of him. In front of the capital, in front of Union Station, every couple of feet. At one point he offered to take a picture of me, but  instead of with my camera (which would have been cool) he takes it with his. I get a bit creeped out, and wonder what that picture will be used for later. I digress.

It's now rounding 5pm and he's not really sure what will be open at this hour.  We head to the National Botanical Gardens and since I mention (unsolicited) that I love flowers, and we think that this is probably one of the only places still open we decide to go inside because it's free. We wander through the Christmas exhibit impressed by the beautiful displays of flowers, Santa's train and the holiday decorations.  I feel some relief from the verbal battery, and though I am sweating like a whore in church under all my cold weather clothes in this terrarium, I am so happy that we are having a pleasant walk with lovely scenery. This, of course, is interrupted by the curator yelling that the place is closing, thank you for coming, and now it's time to go home. Dang. Now what.  

We exit the botanical gardens, and as fate would have it, it begins to rain. This does not faze me. I am dressed for crumby weather since it is December.  He, on the other hand, in his 1983 brown suede jacket is now panicked by the ensuing rain. He tells me that he's not sure that anything else is open now, and has no idea where to go, but we MUST get out of the rain to spare his coat. I look at him helpless for a suggestion. I thought we were going to tour the city.  I thought he knew his way around. I  thought perhaps he had a plan. NOPE. 

We walk back to Union Station. He wants to duck into a video store and check out DVDs.  I think I was up for anything at this point that didn't involve he and I having to have a conversation so I agreed and began to intently scour the DVD racks.  Five impulse-buy DVDs later we were leaving with still no idea where to go.  I tell him that perhaps now is a good time to begin to head back but he has a eureka and tells me that it's best to head to the Pentagon Mall.  I think it's like the mall where the museums are so I agree. 

We take the subway to get to this Pentagon Mall. I am excited to get to see something else cultural or artsy and make the most of this abysmal date. We get off the subway and I realize this is not a place of art and culture. It is just a mall.  REALLY? I am from New Jersey, the land of malls. I hate shopping. Wow. Now what. As we wander the mall he dips off into stores that interest him and I felt like I am being dragged around. I decided to step away for a few minutes and call Kristina.  He barely noticed I was gone. 

"Oh my God! This date is tanking, " I tell her. She tells me to hang on and just get through today and then once I am done with this date, we can formulate what to do with this guy, his ticket and me. I agree, hang up and proceed to find him eight stores away.  

I tell him that I am really in need of finding a bank, and perhaps we should venture outside the mall to try to find one. We do this only to realize that we were in Nowheresville, so to kill some more time he suggested that we wander through a kitchen and home goods store. REALLY? Could this get any worse? 

The hi light of this part of the trip is that they were giving away free cups of espresso that I capitalized on because I was glazing over like a doughnut. I suggest that perhaps we grab a lite bite to eat since it was nearly 8.30pm and restaurants probably closed at 9.  He tells me that he wasn't hungry, and I shared that with my blood sugar issues if we didn't eat something, I was destined to pass out.  He acquiesces to my request. 

We choose a Thai place to have dinner.  I had already decided that this was the last stop on the crazy train for today. I could punctuate the end of the date by claiming I was exhausted, needed travel time to get back and would easily be able to make my departure back to my hostel WITHOUT HIM in tow if we left from this subway hub. All of this was mentally arranged in my head BEFORE we even ordered. 

Thaiphoon, thank God, had a bar. I felt that I deserved a martini for the hell of a day I had endured.  He ordered Plum wine. I internally scoffed at his choice feeling that plum wine was the white zinfandel of the Asian world.  I feel that you should, as a bartender, be able to ask someone to leave your establishment if they order white zinfandel. It's grape juice with alcohol people! 

Returning to my nightmare of a date. . .  

We order a soup and an appetizer of dumplings to share since he's not hungry and I have a feeling it's going to be me picking up the tab.  He continues to go on about himself and his life living in Africa. He shares how he had created the online dating site profile while he was there to try to find women back home to get to know better because he didn't want to "go local", as he called it, and because it was free, he had no problem keeping this account for years. . .Well that explained the pictures from twenty years ago! 

He then proceeds to ask me if I knew about FGM. I know what it is, but I had no idea where this is going. I shared that I did, just to see where he's going with this. He then shares with me that after having "gone local", he decided this was not the best choice because his ego was bruised by these women when they didn't seem "satisfied" with his sexual prowess. He then shares that it must be the FGM because he's amazing in bed. REALLY? Is this conversation for dinner, let alone a first date? But he continued on. 

He had made a list of all the expats in the area and then figured out who was single, to pursue his hit list of potential partners.  OMG. Get me out of here! The night couldn't be over soon enough. How was I going to tackle another day with this guy? I had spent nearly $100 on a ticket; should I just eat the money? God damn it. The best laid plans. .  .

I start to yawn and tell him that I am exhausted and that I really should begin to make the journey back to my hostel. He offers direction on which train to take back, but doesn't offer to accompany me to make sure that I get back safe through what he called a "bad neighborhood." Whatever. I am over it. I'll take a mugging over another hour with this guy. 

He is still looking forward to the game and tells me that he is ready any time tomorrow AM to get our second day of touring the capital on.  I am exhausted by the thought alone. I wonder if he even realizes that I have NO INTEREST in him. 

The check comes and he stares at it with a "I paid for lunch and now it's your turn" stare. I pick up the check, pay for it, tip the waitress and we head for the door.  At the subway station he is solidifying plans for when we are to meet tomorrow.I am nodding in agreement with everything and am literally backing away to try to run to the subway and get on the first car that comes in. I wave goodbye and plaster a fake smile on my face.  As I sit down on the subway train I wonder how am I going to get through day two with this guy. . . 

(To Be Continued in the Next Blog tomorrow!!!)