Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Shouldn't Italians know about wine?

I should have known better. Honestly. Especially since something similar happened to Summer just a week or two before this.

It was a particularly cold night. I decided at some point that I wanted to drink wine and watch the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show. I think I like to watch it because it somehow justifies dancing in my room in my underwear. If they can do it on TV, surely I am allowed to do it in my apartment. At this point, I was already in flannel pj pants and an old high school sweatshirt. I debated just pulling on my uggs and just going to the corner store dressed like that, but for whatever reason I decided to put on cute clothes to go buy wine. Complete with scarf and leather boots.

I strut in and go straight for the reds and on my way to get a candy bar I see this really cute guy in a ball cap. We lock eyes and I smile politely at him and don't think anything of it. I check out and go outside and he is parked front and center, in a nice sporty car, with the window rolled down. He asks me if I know how to get to the library. I know good and well this man knows how to get to the library. He then makes awkward conversation about wine and asks me what I am up to. I change the subject and accuse him of knowing where the library was, "Yes... I just wanted to talk to you."

Okay... did I mention he has an accent!? And I can't place it. Is it French? It's not Spanish. Who knows! But this accent ups his cuteness level... by a lot. So I did something I NEVER EVER do. I gave my phone number to a complete stranger. Why the hell not? I am single, about to go drink wine and watch lingerie models. I think I was due for a little shake up.

"Is this your real number? Let me call and see if it rings." Um... sure. Perhaps that should have been a sign, he knows he needs to check to see if a girl is lying. I laugh it off and I save his number. "What's your name?" I ask. He says JP. "Just JP?" He smiles and nods. Okay... whatever. I am completely flattered and feeling pretty good. I skip home to tell my room mate all about it.

So after a couple of days of texting and a phone call or two, I found out he is some kind of medical researcher at UAB. He says he is from Italy and new in town. He is also asking me all about wine during the day. "Are you drinking right now?" Um, no. It's 1:30 in the afternoon. He also starts asking about different types of wine. Hmmm... I just feel like any Italian should know about wine. The room mate and I decide that perhaps that's a cliche stereotype. Neither of us had ever made cornbread or fried chicken, so we shouldn't expect Italians to have vast knowledge about wine.... but perhaps we were both wrong.

So then we go on a coffee date. And that's when it crashed and burned quickly. He was a lot less cute with out the hat on and he was asking all the wrong questions within the first 30 minutes of the date. "So why are you single? What's wrong with you? Haha." You could hear crickets chirp. "How long did your last relationship last? Why did you break up?" For Christ's sake! You'd think after I gave him the run around on the first two questions he would have stopped. It was at that point I quit caring about anything he had to say. However, I am too nice to just walk out and decided to finish out this date. It was also revealed to me that he was raised in Prussia, which explains why I had no idea what accent he had. At this point I am not even sure if he was really Italian, I had to pee, and I was tired of walking around Five Points pretending to care.

Le sigh. I went home completely dejected and prepared never to date again.

I think this is karma for wearing my "Cute and single" Halloween costume in front of my ex boyfriend. Basically, I wore a typical going out outfit with a question mark pinned to my shirt. The purpose was for a man to ask "What are you?" so that my reply would be "Cute and single!" If I wanted good dating karma, perhaps I should have been classy enough to lie to my ex about my costume.

Do you ever have moments in your life where you stop and think Is this really happening to me? You must tell me all about it in the comments section.

1 comment:

  1. Ha! My "is this happening" moment? Getting picked up at the Publix by the Soup Bandit.