Giving the Nice Guy a Shot

After not contacting me for a few days, I thought I had "Too Nice" off my back. As usual, I was very wrong in this assumption. While sitting in 30 MPH traffic on 95, I received a text reading "what's cookin' top model?". Uh oh. So we started texting back and forth. Actually, he texted and I probably responded to about half of his long and too-much-info messages with relatively short answers. When I did not respond immediately, I received a number of texts in a row. What was a diversion from traffic quickly became an annoyance. He asked me (via text still) if I wanted to go on a date with him. I said maybe and I'd let him know, but being the overly persistent character he is, he asked me when I was available. Knowing he was not going to be worth wasting a weekend night on, I told him Tuesday. He continued to text on and on until finally, he said he'd let me go and not bother me.

Sunday he called me, and I stupidly answered the phone. Since part of the deal for Tuesday was that he'd foot the bill, I figured the worst that could happen would be free dinner. He wasn't totally sketchy and I might as well take it. He asked me what I wanted to do and I told him he could meet me in my hometown. As soon as we hung up, he texted again and I did not answer. Monday morning, I get another text "Have a great day at work". Do you even remember what I do for work, Too Nice? I was starting to dread the following evening.

But still, I was trying to give him a chance and not be overly shallow. So a few hours later, I told him the name of a restaurant I thought would be reasonable. And then the flood gates opened again. He was asking for directions, confirming times, and asking what kind of food it was and if it was any good. And blah, blah, blah. He also continued to call me top model in a number of these texts, as well as "filet mignon ass". I was starting to question if he even knew my first name and thought the top model thing was about as over as Dawson's Creek.

Fast forward to Tuesday at 6:30, exactly one hour before we're supposed to meet. The phone rings again and I am seriously unenthused about this date. I didn't answer and asked him what's up via text. And the texts from him continued throughout my entire primping process. I was officially beginning to get irate and wondering if I would be able to contain my anger when I saw him. I decided to call my friends to ask them what pleasantries we could discuss. Korey and Rhonda helped calm me down a bit. I told my cousins they would have to save me if I was going absolutely insane. And Maura brought me back down to earth and told me to stay positive and cut the kid some slack.

We arrived at the restaurant and started to make small talk. It was not the torture I had expected, and I tried to be relatively pleasant but was not overly enthusiastic. I immediately ordered sangria and he got the same. One of the first things he told me what that he'd gotten into an argument with his MOTHER about making a 40 minute drive to see me. He let me know he explained to her how we met "etc" and that she approved. What?! I was slightly dumbfounded and turned my attention back to the menu, citing different things I had tasted and what tapas I thought we should order.

The conversation did not flow easily. He talked a lot about his job and his family, and I often found myself saying "interesting" when he stopped blabbering on. Interesting? It was all I could muster. I was simply unable to find anything witty to say since I was so bored by his explanations. He also made it a point to tell me he was nervous about the date and wasn't sure he should ask me out. I repeatedly told him that I was a tough nut to crack. He realized this and once again said, "I was probably annoying with all those texts". Unable to disguise my feelings through my facial expressions, I tried looking around the room and changing the subject. He apologized, which also bugged me.

I inhaled my sangria.

Too Nice made sure to tell me a number of things about himself including:

• He pitched 20 out of 21 baseball games in high school, earning himself a scholarship to a forgotten school in Florida until he injured his shoulder. His arm is now a noodle.
  
• He was on the golf team in "college", his "college" being an apparent four-year institution which I would say is probably on par with a crappy community college. I also let him blabber about his Bachelors in Business Administration and failed to remind him my degree is in Finance and from a top-notch business school.
  
• His grandfather owns a Ford dealership and drives a Mercedes, and his aunt drives a Porsche.
  
• He often says he should "paint his Explorer yellow and put a taxi sign on it" because he always drives his license-less friends around. He also finds drunk people annoying and is usually the sober one. (I made sure to tell him I am usually the Drunk Girl).
• He describes himself as very well dressed and a bit of a neat freak. This is probably one of the only forgivable things about him.
• He was one of 19 people hired out of 100 candidates for his job, and could make a "shit-ton" of money working for this company. He also used the term "shit-ton" a number of times which I found strange and annoying.
  

To his credit, I'm sure he was only trying to impress me with these tidbits of information. Little does he know I am not easily impressed. He asked me about myself a bit, but I was not really feeling inclined to offer him very much information. When I failed to fill the silence with humorous anecdotes, he complemented my watch and asked who made it. He said it resembled a "Carti-ER"and said he was very into watches. He got a Pulsar for high school graduation. A Pulsar? I made a mental note to research the cost of a Pulsar but was 99% sure this brand fit into the Timex category. He then said, "let me show you this" and pulled oof a watch with the ROLEX printed on the front. Maybe things were looking up? Nope. He told me a woman he sold a car to (at his family's dealership of course) gave it to him and that it was a great fake made in the glorious country of China. I am not sure why one would be proud of having a fake Rolex or think it necessary to show it to me.

Finally, our drinks were done and he paid the bill. I offered to pay my half or at least the tip but he would not allow it. We walked back to the parking garage and he told me he'd walk be back to my car. I assured him he didn't have to and thanked him repeatedly for dinner. I then walked back to my car, not hugging him or suggesting we make plans again.

All in all, it was not a terribly dreadful experience. But it was not a thrill either. There was zero chemistry and even after a slight sangria buzz I felt no desire to open up to him. Or take him to the bathroom for a quickie. I am hoping I did not leave him with a bitter taste in his mouth for being too tough a nut to crack. I would definitely make no effort to contact him again, but if he contacted me I don't think I would ignore him completely. He is nice after all. On the other hand, his behavior has proven rather annoying and I would worry about him becoming attached. He is not particularly attractive physically. And I'm still not sure he knows my first name.