Mr. FILM

I have a couple of older stories I would like to tell you . . .  Just because I wanted you to know that men are just nuts.  And they fit in to all the other stories I have already told you about.

This was maybe 8 years ago. 

So enter stage left . . . Mr. Film. 

I was up on  Match.com, which you have to pay to have these stupid men message you . . . At least I'm getting entertained for free right now. 

I had been talking to this guy for a while . . .  Off and on . . . and finally we decided to meet up.  This guy thinks he is VERY pretty.  He was alright looking, but what he THOUGHT he looked like was different than what he actually did look like. 

We make plans to go to CB and Potts.  We both arrive, and he has them seat us in the bar.  (As you already know, because of Fitness Freak~ I don't like to sit in the bar.)  Sigh.  In my little red head I am thinking "How do you get to know someone when you can't even hear yourselves talk?"  Strike 1.

The waitress comes over and I order a white wine. 

Mr. Film says, "I don't like white wine.  Red is so much better."
I say, "Red wine gives me a headache, I can't drink it." 
He says, "Well, Red wine is still better than white wine."
WHAT THE HECK!?!?   Why is this guy fighting with me about what "I" am drinking.
I say, "Well then you should order yourself a red wine."
He says, "No, I'm going to drink a beer." 

So in my head again I'm thinking if he is so passionate about RED wine, why isn't he drinking it.  Strike 2.  I still have never figured out why he wanted to tell me what "I" should/could drink . . .  If he didn't like white wine, then he didn't have to drink it.  It wasn't like I was forcing him to drink white wine, it was MY drink!

At this point, I'm thinking this date has really gone south and we haven't even been here 10 minutes.  UGH!  So I'm searching my head to come up with some way to salvage this date . . . 

I ask him, "So tell me some of the things you like to do."

He says, "I like films."  My little head is so happy, I'm a huge movie buff!  Finally something we can talk about.

I say, "Great, I love movies.  What's your favorite?"

He corrects me, "I said FILMS, not movies.  I like FILMS."  UGH!  What is wrong with this man???  If you know me at all . . . you will probably know that I HATE to be corrected.  Expecially condosended to . . .  UGH!!!

So I ask him, "What do  you consider a FILM over a movie (Because apparently a film is so much higher class, than me down here in the gutter can't grasp the difference)?" 

In a "know-it-all" kind of way, he says, "A film is like Borat, or Kill Bill, movies are those other things."  Well those "movies" he just said, were stupid . . . I don't like those at all.  (No offense meant to anyone who liked those "movies", it's just a personal preference of mine.)

So I bend down grab my purse off the floor and get my wallet out.  Put $10 on the table and stand up and smile at Mr. Film and say, "I don't have time for this, apparently we have nothing in common, and I would rather be home in my bed than out with you."

He looks at me, like a deer caught in the head lights, and says, "Oh my place or yours . . ." 

WHAT?!?!?!?

Apparently he didn't hear the other words, he just heard "in bed."  And got excited.

I shake my head . . .  And smile at him, you know one of those smiles you give to small children who are confused.  When you have to use little words, and say things over and over again.  "This isn't working for me.  I'm going home.  Have a good night."

He stuttered something . . .

I turned around and got in my car.

And that dear readers is the story of Mr. Film . . .

Which further proves that no matter what their age, men are still kind of slow.

Total date time~  15 minutes.  Took me longer to drive there, than I was actually there for the date.  Sigh.