Date #2: Obama Drama and No Reach-Around

I hate you, Obama.

Hate is a strong word, I know. I really don't hate Barack, per say. Not at least in the way I actually hate/loathe/fear Hillary. But Obama (and some liquor) ruined my date last night so I hate him for it.

Date #2 of the week (or maybe it's technically just Date #1?) took place at Dave & Buster's. (Her choice, which I thought was a bold, but great idea for a first date. A crowd, some alcohol, good eats, video games...what more can you ask for to break the ice when first meeting someone? I thought it was brilliant and I think I'm gonna steal the idea and use it in the future for first dates as well. But I digress...)

So the date was going awesome. Kristie was even cuter than her picture, we connected well, we were having fun...at a certain point of the date, I'm pretty damn sure you could have seen me grinning ear to ear it was so good. After playing some games for about an hour -- believe it or not, I kicked her ass on Dance Dance Revolution. She claims she hurt her ankle over the weekend while training for a marathon but that's no excuse! Also, this girl was some kind of savant when it came to Skee-Ball. We didn't end up redeeming our tickets at evening's end, but I'm pretty sure she coulda walked out of there with a Fabergé egg if they sold them at the gift shop. That or 263 small stuffed giraffes.) -- Kristie suggested we hit the bar and grab a bite to eat. We ordered the Appetizer Trio, I got a Diet Coke and she, a Mojito. But not before she insisted we each pound down a Jager Bomb. I wasn't going to say no, but I also really didn't want to end up shit-faced in front of a total stranger, so I told her I'd take the shot, but that's it. ("I'll do one!") Her one Mojito turned into two, plus an Apple-tini and a pear cider. Maybe she's trying to up her fruit intake, but she's going about it all the wrong way.

It was near the end of the evening and it seemed like we had run out of stuff to say, as our small talk was just that...small. She noticed on one of the bar flat-screens that the Democrat debate was going on and she asks me who I thought was going to win the election.

I hesitated to answer because I didn't want my political views screw up what I thought was a successful date up to that point, but I decided to play along and take it safe. I didn't tell her who I was voting for, but maybe from my answer she could have deduced my political affiliation. I told her that the huge division between the two Democrat candidates was going to really hurt the Party and whoever eventually emerged on that ticket and that in the end, "the old white guy will win."

Kristie didn't agree nor disagree with me, but answered with "As long as it's not Obama!"

Well, anytime someone is anti-something, it interests me why they are anti- instead of pro-, so I asked why she wasn't an Obama fan.

"The main reason is that he hates Jews." (Earlier in the date, she told me she was Jewish.)

Even as Republican as I am, I just couldn't let her throw around fallacies about the guy, so I told her that I hadn't heard that about Obama and if that was indeed true and public knowledge, his campaign would have been over long ago to which she simply answered with "but he's Muslim!"

Now Adam, correct me if I'm wrong, but Obama's dad was Muslim and Obama is Christian (albeit he goes to a pretty whack Christian church.) I tell Kristie this and add the fact that just because you are a black Muslim, it doesn't exactly make you one of Farrakhan's disciples.

"What's a disciple of Farrakhan?" she asked and before I could give her a lecture about the history of the Nation of Islam, her phone rang (For you keeping track, her ring tone was Mariah Carey's new "Touch My Body.") She apologized, but said she needed to take it then walked off chatting on her cell. She returned a few minutes later and again apologized. Although I was a bit annoyed and didn't like that the date had suddently derailed, I told her I didn't mind and that it was okay. It was at that time when our server placed the check presenter in-between us and thanked us for the night.

Now here's the thing: I (almost) never let my dates pay. I don't even like to let my mom, sister or female friends pay unless they absolutely insist. Whether it's $11 at The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf on a first date, or $110 at a fancy shmancy restaurant on date numero quatro, I always get the check or at least intend to. I just think it's the gentlemanly thing to do so I do it!

Once in a while, though, it's nice when the woman makes a fake reach for the check when the waiter puts it on the table. You know, that sort of half-assed reach where she says, "Oh, let me...," but then you cut her off, grab the check, and say, "No. No. I got it." Well, Kristie didn't do the fake reach, which is fine, but if you're not gonna do the fake reach, then you must at the very least do the fake "thank you," which she didn't either. I mean fuck, I had two potato skins and a soda while this broad drank $3o in booze! Oh well, I figured maybe she was saving the "thank you" for the end of the date. You know, "Thank you for dinner, thank you for a nice time", etc. But again, I was wrong. As I walked her to her car in the parking lot, all I got was a "Good night. Take care." and she was gone...kind of like my desire to ever call her again.

Two dates down, one to go.

I hate you, Obama.