Loose Cannon

When Tinder reared its head, I was all for it. It felt old school to me. You barely know any information about the guy and you mostly make decisions based on pictures. This seemed good to me because I found myself ruling guys out due to spelling errors, etc.

I live in a very busy part of Chicago and this guy reaches out to me who lives behind my condo, one block away. How convenient, I was excited.

He wanted to go to a high-end hotel lobby bar for our first date. Yes please. 

I was initially annoyed that he was late but that was child’s play compared to what he had in store for me.

We meet, he was cuter than his pictures and we have a very nice conversation.  I learned he grew up in Detroit, owns his own business and has never been married.  He even ran for the US senate. I like it. We are off to a great start.

The one thing that caused concern for me was that he said he hated Chicago.  I said, I have lived here my whole life and have sold this city for years and have never heard anyone say that before? They only hate the weather!

He said he hates the crime, the politics and the taxes. I said, that is any big city. Who does like that stuff?  He said he is going to move to Denver in a month because of his dislike.  Easy come easy go.

While it occurred to me that it was odd that he would be meeting people knowing he was going to move in a month, I still was curious to see if this had any legs.

He asked me for my favorite place in Chicago for a drink and I said Ditka’s. he said he had never been. What?  You hate Chicago and have never been to Ditka’s?  No wonder you don’t like this town. You don’t hang out where you should.

So, he says I want to see you before Thanksgiving, how about we go to Ditka’s?  Yes please.

We go to Ditka’s and go upstairs where I know the bartender and the singer.  We don’t have a reservation so I ask the bartender if he can sneak us in somewhere. He said, I have two people closing out at the bar, I will reserve that for you. Awesome. Also, Da Coach was at the restaurant and my date seemed unimpressed. Must be a Lions fan.

So, we sit down and he asks me what the place is known for as we were also going to grab appetizers. I said pot roast nachos!  He said, great, let's order them.   While we were waiting for the nachos, I introduce him to the bartender as I have known him for years. The bartender sets up our place setting with silverware and salt and pepper shakers.

The pepper shaker catches my dates eye and he proceeded to tell me how much he dislikes pepper. I inquire further and he said he mostly doesn’t like the freshly ground pepper shakers. Naively, I ask why. He says he hates when a server comes to the table and interrupts the conversation to see if anyone wants freshly ground pepper.

My date says, how about the Chef make food that tastes good to begin with?   Why do we need the pepper?

Also, he says, his biggest pet peeve is when they ask the first person, freshly ground pepper and then continue to ask everyone else at the table. He said, once the server says it once, we don’t need the question repeated. Ok, seems a bit intense on something I haven’t thought of before, but, noted.

After that rant, our food arrived. Yeah!  Pot roast nachos!  De-Lish….

My date sees the nachos and said, no, this isn’t correct.  I said, yes, these are the nachos. He says, where do they put the carrots and mashed potatoes?  I said, no, it is the meat from the pot roast.  He said, that is not what the menu stated, the menu said pot roast nachos. If it was only the meat, it should have been called pulled meat nachos. Heavy sigh. I said, there is no place for carrots and potatoes on nachos, it is what it is.  He then proceeds to call over my bartender friend (who graciously snuck us in at the bar). 

He said, excuse me, the menu is inaccurate. These are not pot roast nachos, there are no carrots and potatoes.

The bartender said, it is just the meat. He said, well, you should label them differently. It is confusing to the customer. The bartender looks at him and says, I see you enjoyed them (as the plate was practically licked clean). Bartender 1, my date, 0.

Now it is time to order our next appetizer. He said he really wanted steak. So, we decided on the steak sliders. I ask him how he likes them prepared. His answer was medium rare.

I said, any chance you can do medium or medium well?  I don’t care for rare.  He said, Sue, if we are going to hang out, you are going to need to learn how to phrase a question to me.

Huh?  He said, you should have asked me if I like medium or medium well so it didn’t turn out negative. I said there were three choices and you happened to pick the only one I didn’t care for. We had a 2/3 chance of it being different. He said now this is all negative. I said, are we still talking about the temperature of the meat?  Geesh.

So, the other appetizers are ordered and now he starts telling me a story about when he used to live in the West Loop. He lived above a restaurant and his car was parked in a garage below it.  Of course, one day he comes downstairs and the grease trap from the restaurant above his home unloaded in his car.  And, the top of his convertible was down.

He said, can you believe it?  It was thousands of dollars of damage. I thought this could be a case of karma but kept my mouth shut. He went on to say that the restaurant would only give him $100.00 to clean it. I said, well, why didn’t you call your insurance company or the building's insurance company?  He said, I came up with something better. He printed a flyer explaining what happened and stood in front of the restaurant and passed them out to potential customers for a month trying to dissuade people from going in. He said, I actually got quite a few people to turn away. He also said he was dating a girl at the time who helped him distribute.

Where do I begin?  I said, if you found a girl who was crazy enough to join you in your campaign, you should have married her as she was the love of your life. I said, I couldn’t think of a worse way to handle the situation.

Now our steak sliders arrive.  There are three of them on the plate as most steak sliders are served. As soon as he sees them, he says, there are only 3 sliders?  I said, I know, that is how they are served. He said, why didn’t your bartender friend order a fourth?  He knows there are two of us. I said, look, I am quickly losing my appetite, you have two, I will have one. Problem solved.

He said, like I am going to sit here like an a-hole and eat an extra one in front of you.  Well, if the shoe fits….

I said, it is no problem, but, if you feel that strongly about it, here is a knife to split the third. He said, I can’t believe your bartender friend has such poor customer service (which, he didn’t).  Do you think my date will let this go?  He said excuse me, bartender, there are two of us, why did you only give us three sliders?  The bartender said, I see you found a knife and figured it out. Bartender 2, my date 0.

I looked at this guy and said, look, I appreciate dinner and all but you get so worked up about things I can’t begin to be concerned about.  And, you don’t let anything go. He said, this is me letting go!  Yikes!

I said, we are not a match, so let’s just get our bill and be done. He paid the bill and walked me home. He said, are you sure you don’t want to go out again?  Um, completely sure.

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Lesson learned?  Date two everyone is still on their best behavior. There was no place to go but down hill and “ain’t nobody got time for that”!!!