Date #1: Fork in the Ear

Ok I started the experiment at the beginning of the semester so I’ll have to backdate a few. They are definitely worth including so I can’t leave them out. In order to keep them straight, I like to give them descriptive names because I am terrible with actual names. Is this a nice thing to do? No, not really. But…. 2 separate “friends” at different times told me that I often times am not the nicest girl that they’ve ever met. In fact, the word arrogant was thrown around. In my defense, I think that I’m pretty fucking sweet but whatever. You want someone to do your laundry and bake cookies…..? You should date your mom. Back to the point. I shall start my grand experiment at the most logical place…

Date #1: “Fork in the ear”

I was very excited to meet “Fork in the Ear.” Lets start with his stats (in no particular order):
Appearance: Average. Not the one you accidentally (on purpose) bump into at the bar, but not the one you laugh and shove your ugly friend towards either. He’s the one who elicits the comment that we’ve all made and heard at various times, “well…he’s not the cutest but he is really nice.”
Education: Excellent. Working on a PHD in environmental science something or other. Masters in Urban development with a focus on environmental policy.
Pets: None, but likes dogs better (always important)

“Fork in the Ear” made me laugh….in emails and on the phone. This is an important point because anyone who knows me knows that I abhor talking on the phone (except to family and friends who don’t live in NC). Prior to meeting Fork (for short), he kept me engaged for an entire 40-minute phone conversation. Fork scores one point.

We meet in Brightleaf Square for dinner. I generally don’t like to commit to an entire meal on the first date but he seemed to have put a lot of thought into this nice Greek restaurant so I decided to make an exception. Immediately upon my arrival, Fork’s stock plummeted. His internet photos were about 30 lbs ago. Yeah, he has now gone from “well he is really nice” to “not only are we turning the lights off but I’m taking 6 shots and putting on a blindfold.” Fork loses 43 points.

But prior to dinner, he takes me to a record store where I realize that 1) Fork has a pretty decent taste in music (+3) and 2) he thinks I am the coolest chick in the world because I went to Burning Man (+5). So I think to myself, “self: try not to be so shallow for once.”

We sit down to dinner. Fork can hold up his end of the conversation but I tend to get slightly distracted by the crazy hot boy pouring wine into my class at 5-minute intervals. I’m blabbing on about something ⎯while secretly wondering how I can corner my waiter and rip his clothes off⎯and then it happens. Yes ladies and gentlemen, he stuck his fork right in his ear. My sister theorized that it was one of those things that you do on accident because you’re nervous… leaving you silently wondering why god hates you so much. I considered this, but it just doesn’t hold water for me.

Advice for both sexes: Nothing goes in your ear at dinner, or anytime that you are on a date. Not your fork, knife, or finger. Repeat after me: nothing in your ear at dinner.

I suffer through a few after dinner drinks and around 11 decide I cannot handle anymore. He walks me to my car where we share an awkward good night kiss (see Seth, pretty nice if you ask me), whereby he proceeds to make odd noises similar to the half moaning noise you make when you take your first bite of your favorite dessert. Weird. Fork loses another 13 points.

I proceed to pay a visit to “the old standby,” ⎯a story for another time.

To finish off the tale of “Fork in the Ear” I will briefly summarize the following 3 days after the date and our short relationship’s ultimate demise.

Sunday: Fork calls, I’m busy, I forget to call back
Monday: Fork texts, I’m busy, forget to text back
Tuesday: Fork sends facebook chat, I say “I’m in class, Ill be done at 10:30, talk then?”
Wed: Fork sends chat that reads, “Fine Stephanie I get it. You’re not interested! Ill never talk to you again! I’ll leave you alone. Forever.”

Poor Fork. But lets face it. I pretty sure that some day, I will be very important. And when I’m at some fancy dinner, thrown by fancy people, in honor of me, I simply cannot be worried about my man’s manners, or lack thereof.