No Fly Zone

Mr Frugal No-Flyer is also afraid of large bodies of water. I held on to this thought and let it simmer as I contemplated chucking my blueberry pomegranate iced tea at him as the meal came to a conclusion. Nah, it wasn't big enough and my beverage was by far the most enjoyable part of the lunch.

I'm having trouble capturing exactly what was so wrong. After all, I knew many points already that were major red flags. And I was just going for lunch and to remind myself that I cannot shut myself off socially or there will be very bad consequences.

It might have been his comment when I hugged him hello, "Wow you're nice and soft."

It might have been his dismissal of the waiter 3 times when he couldn't decide what to order.

It might have been his insistence that "we" order 3 appetizers AND entrees, and "he" would take the leftovers home to his mother.

(I would put the Norman Bates reference here, but quite honestly, it freaks me out too much to do it.)

It might have been when all the food came, he advised me to "dig right in, because he loved a girl with an appetite."

For the record, he's a thin guy, and he says he likes his women plump. I told him I had an appetite all right, an appetite for life and food was just a part of it. 4 out of 5 judges say that was a good answer.

It might have been his conversational topics of the Yankees, even though he's not a diehard fan.

It might have been his attempt to bait me on political issues like healthcare by telling me that he would never put his mother in a home because he has strong family values and that anyone who didn't understand why he lived with his mother didn't have strong family values.

It might have been his lengthy list of medication his mother takes. 15 different pills a day. I could have competed in the "My Mother Takes More Meds Than Your Mother" game show, but I wasn't in the mood to divulge information.

It might have been that he grilled me about my siblings. Not just how many and where do they live, but how many kids, and why isn't my brother married, and why did I get divorced, and do I regret marrying a foreigner.

It might have been that he went on to say that he would never date a woman who wasn't born in the United States. Even Canada. I guess he can add xenophobia to his list.

It might have been that he kicked my leg twice, stepped on my foot once, and instead of just apologizing, reached under the table in an attempt to errrr "rub" the area.

It might have been that he commented that I really shouldn't have ordered a salad because if I wanted to take it home, it would be mushy. I assured him I wouldn't be taking it home.

It might have been that he ordered a TRIO of desserts and then loped off the cheesecake piece for, you guessed it, his mother before the thought even entered my mind to take a taste. I jokingly said that he should have just brought her along, and he said he didn't think that would be a good idea because she naps in the afternoons. I'm not entirely sure he realized I was joking.

It might have been his peptic ulcer and high cholesterol revelations and his pill popping right before the meal.

But no, really....although all of that absofreakinglutely happened, what really and truly did it in for me was when he leaned across the table, placed his hand over my hand, and said (I'm quoting verbatim):

"I really like you. If you really like me, would you consider having a threesome with me and a girl friend who weighs about 300 lbs..."

First of all, the fact that he made her weight an issue, disgusts me. I wanted to shout, "What the fuck does her weight have to do with anything?"

Secondly, ok, I appreciate straightforwardness I guess, but...I.....ummmm, I'm sorry, how did we GET here? Did we take a wrong turn somewhere back in 1st date etiquette?

(Side bar: I'm not against a little excitement but please, within the context of a relationship for crying outloud!)

I think I stared at him and silence filled the space between us so completely, that I was blocked off by a wall of deafening quiet. I could feel hear my nosehair twitching like internal cat whiskers. I felt like the couple behind him were also waiting for my answer.

I was about to say, "I don't think that's going to happen ever, except in your dreams, and not because of her but because of you...."

But I had been too silent too long, and he realized he'd stuck his foot into a pile of shit.

He dropped my hand, resumed his posture, and got a little defensive, "Sorry, I thought you were open-minded...."

All I could think to say was "Open-minded, but not open-thighed."

He laughed and said "Well, maybe some day."

In your dreams Norman, in your dreams.

He proceeded to pay for the bill in several coupons and brag about it as all but $8 was taken off the bill. Is bragging part of being frugal?

I redirected his kiss to the cheek, thanked him for the lunch, and got the hell out of Australia, Jersey-style.

Ironically, once at home, I was immediately sick in the bathroom. Damn food.

And waiting for me in my inbox? Photos of his friend, asking me if I found her attractive.

No more lunches just for free for me. I am not that desperate of a soul.