Brotanical Garden Guy.

I don't go on too many dates. Mostly because there's always that possibility of it leading to a second date, or worse--a third date. And you know what that means--shaving my legs. Ugh. But when I do miraculously get taken out, they're usually non-dates where awkward things happen.

* * * His text read: "I'll pick you up at 11-11:30AM."

But nope, he was a no show in between the times of 11:00 and 11:30am. It was 11:45AM when I decided to call him to ask if I should continue waiting (yeah, I'm polite like that) or if I should ska-daddle and meet my friend, Bea. But of course, there was no answer.

A little after noon, there was still no phone call, no guy, and more importantly, no food. I texted Bea to let her know if this guy didn't show up by 12:30pm, I'd just meet up with her earlier instead of 3pm--the time we originally agreed upon. 10 minutes after sending that text, my doorbell rang. There he was--extremely late, out of breath, and sort of in a rush to leave.

In retrospect, I don't know why I even waited that long. I should have seen the foreshadowing to a bad day.

He explained that he was late because he had gotten lost in the Bronx and his phone had died because his battery was shoddy. Okay, fine whatever...people get into these situations all the time. No big deal, I thought.

When I got to his car, there was a bouquet of flowers. I feel like girls only get flowers in movies and even when they do, the flowers somehow magically end up in their homes without ever being carried. How? WHY!? What is this trickery!?

"These...are for you."
"Oh......thanks......"

The surprises didn't stop there. Now, don't get me wrong. I love surprises. So when somebody goes to the extent of surprising me, I allow it. I indulge in them because they make me feel special and important. Yup. I have no shame in admitting that I like feeling special and important.

The entire drive to our destination, he talked. About himself. No questions about me or what I was doing while I was waiting for him. Nope, nothing. Whenever I tried to offer a thought or voice my opinions, he was able to minimize it to mere mumbling. Yes. This guy was capable of making me mumble. WHO THE HELL DOES THAT!?

We finally arrived at the New York Botanical Gardens and I won't lie: I was actually sort of excited. I mean, I'd always wanted to go but that was the extent of my excitement. I wasn't dressed to go walking in the blistering October cold. I had only worn a thin cardigan and boots. Not exactly outdoorsy-walking gear.

"You should have told me to dress more appropriately," I suggested.
"Yeah, but I didn't want to give away the surprise."
"...You wouldn't be giving anything away if you had just told me to put on a coat or put on more comfortable shoes."

Then he rambled on and on about ruining surprises. I forget exactly what he said but I felt like all this guy was, was a ball of excuses. Friends, you all know I have a pretty low tolerance for bullcrap. He could have just apologized.

We were able to walk through a Van Gogh exhibit and an extremely large greenhouse atrium. I learned a lot about beans and wheat and different types of flowers. It was really, really cool. LIKE SUPER COOL. I had a really fun time reading, smelling, and doing the opposite of what signs said, but by 2:30pm I was ready to head back to the city to meet up with Bea. Before I could suggest we call it a day, homeboy pulled a fast one on me.

"Hey, if you're hungry, we should grab something to eat because dinner reservations are at 6pm."
"...Wait, what? What?? 6pm? Dinner?"
"Yeah, I made dinner reservations at 6pm. Can you wait that long?"
"Wait. 6pm? But I have to meet my friend at 3pm."

And then...he yelled at me. In front of all the soccer moms, grandparents, nannies, and little children. I couldn't see it, but I'm sure my face was tomato red. It felt like a hot pocket. So what did I do? I did something I've been getting really good at doing--walking away from people who make me feel like crap.

As I walked away, I felt heads turning to look at me. I felt eyes judging me. Or maybe they were pitying me. Or both. I don't know. All I knew was that it didn't matter what he was saying. I just didn't want to be around him.

When we finally got far enough from the crowds, he realized something was wrong.

"Wait. Are you mad at me? Are you upset?"
...NO SHIT, SHERLOCK! But instead, I said, "No. I'm just really annoyed."
"No! Don't be annoyed. Why are you annoyed?"
"You just...yelled at me...in front of...all those people."

Awkward silence.

"No! I didn't! That's just how I talk!" He defended.
"I'm pretty sure it was your yelling voice."
"Where are you going?"
"To get my things so I can go back to the city."
"Well, at least let me take you back to the city," he offered.
"No. Just take me to the closest train station."
"Don't you want to have dinner?"
"No. Not really. You didn't really think that I'd spend the entire day with you, did you?"
"I guess I assumed that that was the plan."
"Well, you assumed wrong. I would never spend an entire day with somebody I barely know...let alone somebody who yelled at me in front of strangers."

I was livid. You can't show up over an hour late to pick me up, trudge me through the cold, expect me to spend an entire day with you, and then yell at me when I tell you that I have other plans. No. You're not allowed to do that. I don't care what you feel or what you think you're entitled to, you are nobody to me.

So yeah, I let him drive me back to the city. It was more convenient than arguing with him about it. On the way back, he asked me if I was sure I didn't want to make dinner plans.

"I'm sure. I don't want to be around you."
"When are you going to be done meeting with your friend? I can wait for you until then."
"We're done at 6pm but I'm sure I don't want to have dinner. Not with you. Please don't wait."

When we finally got to midtown, I was just tired of the persistence. Sometimes persistence can come off as desperate and we all know that desperate is never a good look. I've been there. You've been there. We've all been there. Don't deny it.

"I really don't mind waiting for you until your friend and you are done. Let's have dinner."
"I don't want to have dinner with you."

Boys, no means no. I don't care what a girl says about reading between the lines. If she says no, leave her the fuck alone. She's not playing hard to get, nah, homegirl just don't want to be near you.

"Were you going to take your flowers?" He asked as I was getting my things to leave.
"Oh...um...do you want me to?"
"Yeah of course. I got them for you," he said, annoyed. "Alright, well, I guess I'll call or text you sometime then," I said as I reached for the bouquet in the backseat.
"My phone's dead, remember?"
"Oh yeah...well, I guess I'll talk to you when I talk to you!"

I met Bea on the corner of 25th and 5th and we walked onward to find a refuge to write. I told her about my day and she told me to blog about it. I toyed with the idea but didn't want to write about it right then and there while my emotions of anger and irritation had the better of me.

Then around 5ish, I got a text message from him telling me that he was at his cousin's apartment and he had gotten a new battery and that if I still wanted to have dinner, he'd be up for it. Really? REALLY?!

* * * And now you know why I can't have nice things. And that's why you should never try to ninja-date me.