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Awkward Moments in Dating: Meeting the Ex-Boyfriend

August 12, 2018

(image via wikimedia)

When you’re dating, meeting an ex-boyfriend can be a bad idea.  Even if I were open-minded enough to meet an ex-boyfriend, I’d never want to meet one on a first date.  Yeah, Jenny had great cleavage and she talked a lot and was kind of funny, but we were going to a Mexican restaurant that her ex-boyfriend managed.  It kind of killed the initial optimism of a first date (you can get more details here ).

“The margaritas are great,” Jenny said as I held the entrance door open for her.

“How is the food?” I asked.

“Better after a few margaritas,” she admitted.

I didn’t want to act like I was ticked off.  Ever since she had mentioned that her ex-boyfriend managed the restaurant, I had tried to play it cool, but it’s tough for an awkward guy to play things cool.   Cool for an awkward guy is still awkward.  Despite Jenny’s own coolness, she hadn’t noticed yet that I was awkward.  Or she didn’t care.

As we walked into the restaurant (I remember the name, but it’s not important), I looked around to see if I could spot a guy who could be her ex-boyfriend.  Most of the restaurant staff wore the same outfits, the tables were packed so it was tough to squeeze between seated customers, the 70’s music was loud (this happened in 1991), and we were approached by a short balding overweight guy dressed in slacks and a tie.  The guy gave Jenny a quick hug, and Jenny pointed me out to him while I continued scouting the place for a guy who could be her ex.

“I’m Bob,” the guy said as he extended his hand.  “It’s nice to meet you,” he continued with an almost feminine squeaky voice.  His handshake was clammier than mine.

I almost laughed.  This dumpy bald guy was her ex-boyfriend?  My mood lifted.  Jenny was nice-looking with great cleavage and a personality that bulldozed through awkward situations.  Despite my mood shift, I knew that something didn’t fit.

I was pleasant enough to the ex, and he gave us a booth next to a window with a view of a small pond.  Nice guy, I thought, for not seating us next to the bathrooms.

I don’t even remember ordering because I was too bewildered by the homely ex-boyfriend and mesmerized by Jenny’s cleavage.  The combination clouded my judgement.  I could probably have dealt with either of them in isolation, but I couldn’t focus with the combination.

“Bob seems like a nice guy,” I said.  “Why did you two break up?”

“I shouldn’t talk about that on a first date,” she said.

“Normally, I’d agree with you, but you chose this restaurant.  I think that makes your ex-boyfriend an appropriate conversation topic. If you want, I could talk about an ex-girlfriend to balance things out.”

“Have you ever been engaged?” she asked.

“No, but I once read Pride and Prejudice just to keep a woman from breaking up with me.  That was a commitment.”

Jenny laughed.  I’d used that line before and had gotten blank stares.  It’s risky using a line that has previously bombed.

“It’s not quite the same thing as being engaged,” she said.

“I know,” I said.  “Have you ever tried reading Pride and Prejudice?”

She dropped the engagement issue, and I dropped Pride and Prejudice (which I hadn’t really read).  We relaxed again and made small talk, so I was able to start thinking this through.

Why would Jenny have had an ugly boyfriend?  It couldn’t be money, I thought.  Restaurant managers did alright but not great enough to attract a woman way above him on the attractiveness meter.  Did she have low self-esteem?  Compared to Bob, I was an A-list Hollywood actor (while in reality, I might have been an extra on a good day).   We went through our appetizers, and Jenny consumed a couple margaritas (I maintained my sobriety).  We shared a fajita plate, and I admit the dining experience was pleasant.  Bob was leaving us alone.  He wasn’t a hoverer.  I was sober, and I thought the food was pretty good, even without a few drinks.

Then it happened.  As we ate and casually talked, I felt the tickling in the back of my nose.  It was a leak, a drip.  At first, I thought it was no big deal because usually a quick intake of air through the nostril can suck the leakage back in without a great probability of being noticed, but it didn’t work.  I tried a couple more quick snorts, but it did no good.  The liquid continued its journey down the back of my right nostril.  Jenny had noticed my third snort and stared at me hard.

No!  No!  No!  A trail of snot was about to drain out of my nose, and I had no good options.  If I dabbled my nose with a napkin, it would look really gross.  Letting the drainage pour out onto my upper lip would be even worse; it wasn’t even an option.  I couldn’t make a run for it because that would have caused a scene.  I had about half a second to make a decision.

“Is something wrong?” Jenny asked, maintaining eye contact.  She knew.  The whole evening she had let her eyes wander so that I could check out her cleavage without getting caught, but now she was staring me down.  She was waiting to see how I would handle it.  The leak was about to drip out.  I could feel it.

And there was nothing I could do to stop it.

To be continued!  In the meantime, start here to read more Awkward Moments in Dating!

From → Dysfunctileaks

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