Date #5: Frisco

For the first time, my beloved city of San Francisco has betrayed me. Of course I will forgive lovely SF, but we definitely didn’t talk for a while. Frisco, 31 yrs old, recently moved here from California. I’ll admit that the fact that he lived in SF caught my attention. Not just because it is in fact the best city in the country, but also because, lets face it…. I don’t really “fit in” in the south, but I do quite well on the west coast so I thought to myself “oh god someone normal, hooray.” He thought the same thing about me. The only problem was that, he was right about me, I was oh so wrong about him.

Frisco was decently attractive in his profile, although there was one suspect photo of him…drinking out of a very large cup. I did wonder why he would post such a retarded photo and alternatively, if the oversized cup was hiding an ugly face. The other pics were average but still, these boys can be sneaky. It turned out that the cup was hiding a face with a rating of about a 5. Unfortunate but it could be overlooked if other circumstances permitted.

He is older than me AND taller than me, which is also a plus. Emails were amusing and he isn’t religious. It all seemed like a pretty good start to me.

Frisco says he knows of “a great little bar and grill in Raleigh.” Against my better judgment, I make the 30-minute trek out to Raleigh. Just for the record, “great little bar” implies eclectic, hole-in-the-wall, at least some level of coolness. This place was a generic, boring sports bar on the night of the last game of the World Series. It seemed odd that he would choose this exact place. But everything became clear when I found out that he does not own a car and his place is around the corner. Fail #1. In cities with public transportation, it is very cool and hipster not to have a car. We do not live in one of those cities. Oh don’t worry though friends. He doesn’t have a car because he is investing all of his money into releasing his first “album.”

Jackpot. I like guys in bands. I really like boys that can play the guitar. I have a weakness for it. But alas, there is no band. There is no guitar.

“Oh so you play in a band?”
“Actually no, I make music on my Mac. I can even change my voice so that it sounds like I have a girl backup singer. My music is in the style of Depeche Mode…but darker.”

Fail #2. Moving on. Frisco then thinks it is a good idea to narrate his short stints all around northern CA from the bay to Sacramento. Each “stint” shorter than the last because he just couldn’t manage to hold a single job.

Fail #3. Moving on to what Frisco likes to do for fun. On his profile he said, “hang out with friends, read books, etc. etc.” In person he said, “do crystal meth.” Um….jackpot? His free time activities can only be summed up in HIS own words, so I shall use them:

Him: “Don’t you just looooove crystal meth?”
Me: “Funny thing actually. I really really don’t. Not to mention, it’s a little dirty.”
Him: “No its not. Besides I smoke it. That’s totally cleaner than cocaine.”
Me: “Well I’m sure you were smoking some household cleaning agents, so that’s kind of like being clean.”
Him: “Well whatever. I did it for years and look (opens his mouth so I can actually look), I still have all my teeth!”
Him: “Oh man. I just love meth because it makes me so horny. I don’t know if you are like me but I’m kind of a sex addict. When I’m on meth I would fuck the nearest chair. Hey you wanna go sit in your car and talk?”
Me: “Um no, I don’t have a car. I’m going to walk back to Durham now.”

So like every night, I went home, fired up the crack pipe, checked all my teeth for loose ones, and went to sleep alone.