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Her voice was deep and raspy, she was heavy set, and swore like a pirate. She was dressed like she was going on Millionaire Maker, which is fine, but do you think Millionaire Match maker guys are coming to speed dating at BJ’s Brewery in Mission Valley?
We had great banter, decent conversation, but in the end I don’t want to be with anyone that makes me feel like I’m the delicate flower in the relationship. Her body posture said “I HATE BEING HERE AND TALKING TO YOU”, and the physical words out of her mouth said “I HATE BEING HERE AND TALKING YOU”. This girl literally, literally, started the conversation with “I’m kind of a lone wolf”.
And look, ask anyone that knows me in real life, I’m funny, like real world funny and a pretty good conversationalist and not shy, like at all.
Except after 11 drinks, my words get a little slurry, I don’t recommend talking to me after that many drinks, or even pretending to know me, but I digress. Nervous that I would forget how to speak English and be forced to communicate with the person across the table from me with a series of awkward eye blinks.
Next she asked me “if I play video games”, which sounds like a trap. Or maybe that’s just because 31 year old me knows now, if I answer “Yes I play video games, I have a level 78 paladin that is spec-ed out in fire magic” the girl would probably walk out right then and there.
I don’t play video games, not really, I might play 30 minutes of Call of Duty a week, since I have to multitask at every moment because I have ADD, it’s usually when I’m cooking something and have to “do something” while things are cooking.
She starts talking about her upcoming calculus final, which then leads the conversation down the path of derivatives and integrals.
It was probably at the moment when we were discussing solving integrals of spherical volumes that I knew this wasn’t going to be my person.
And at the end of the 7 minutes, we take one last lingering look deep into each other eyes, and we just know. It was kind of an irrational fear I kept playing over and over in my head.
Well I guess that’s not the moral of the story, but you get what I’m saying.