Not a Podiatrist

Year: 2009
Scene of the Crime:
Time of Day:
Moral of the Story: Always wear slippers, socks or shoes at all times
Rating: 5 out 5 goose bumps (the bad kind)

Quite a few years ago, I was hosting at an upscale Irish Pub, trying to supplement by entry level salary and support my four night a week going out habits. It was a blast working and getting to meet all sorts of personalities in Boystown/1st date kind of establishment.

One Friday night a very handsome, McSteamy-looking guy was dining with a large group. I assumed one of the females at his table was his partner, but when he came up to say hi and winked, I quickly learned he was flying solo. My shift was ending and with little more than some intense, across-the-room eye contact, nothing transpired and I set out to meet up with friends and start my night. When I went in for my next shift, I was shocked to find out that he came in a few days later and left his number for me. Odd, I thought that he didn't ask for mine, but that was probably against some sort of privacy clause.

As any ballsy and scrappy 24 year old would do, I called him right up and not long after had a date for that Friday. We met at a dive bar close to both of our apartments and while I was thrilled there was a dog roaming the bar, I was a little disappointed to have a first date WITH A DOG ROAMING THE BAR. We had a few drinks, went back to his place for one last drink since it was on the walk home and then called it a night. While at his place of residence, I noticed a few red flags that the 30 year old me would have grabbed my heels, darted for the door and never looked back.

1) He had an orchid flower. This was odd because it didn't match his decor and seemed to be an odd touch. Orchids also require very little attention and sunlight, so that was a pretty good sign that he wasn't quire mature to nurture anything living, be it plant or relationship.

2) He didn't own any kitchen supplies like glasses, plates or silverware that weren't plastic. His place was clean, modern and nice, but no real plates or glasses. I mean-what do you drink wine from? (I will get to that in a minute)

3) He had his professional baseball card framed from his glory days of playing professional ball as a left handed pitcher for a west coast team. It was his only 'decoration' to be found. Upon peeling back his onion layers, I learned that he was 35, nearly 12 years older than me. His card-was from when he was 19...yeah, 19.

4) He had smoking pipes on his mantle and not the ones you might find in Hugh Hefner's mouth. He said that he liked to run all of his marathons with a little extra something. At the time, I was so impressed that he ran so many marathons. It wasn't until I began competing in endurance races that I realized how odd, offensive and irresponsible this was to the racing community. The 30 year old me would have "Ran" in the other direction.

After a so-so date, I agreed to a second date with what I kept considering this old man. I remained open minded and complied to his suggestion of hosting a night in of cooking. Keep in mind that at the time I am living in a studio apartment and making less than $40K a year, but went out and spent over $200 on wine, ingredients and cookware to make an impressive meal for this established gent.

The menu read: Mixed Green Salad  | Lasagna | Strawberry Shortcake. Really fancy, I know, but again, I was 24 and broke.

When he arrives, he shows up wearing hiking shoes, tan corduroys, a painter boy hat, stupid smirk and hands me an open and half drank bottle of red wine. I had mentioned to only drinking white, but was sure to buy red for him as we covered our drinking preferences on date #1 and I was sure to take careful note. To offer up such a bottle was shocking to me. I couldn't tell if he drank half of the bottle on his 5 minute walk to my place or if it was left over from our one drink at his place the week before. At any rate, I tried to put on a brave face and start cooking.

While preparing the meal, we get to talking about our families and when on the topic of my Grandmother, he asks if he can suck on my toes. I nearly chocked on my Yellow Tail Riesling. I politely declined his affectionate offer, fetched a pair of VS slippers and sprinkled the last of the mozzarella on the lasagna. Phew, I thought; dodged that bullet.

The first course would go by and conversation was flowing like the stale wine to his lips, but as luck would have it, with dessert came another unsolicited advice to have a go with my toes and this time it was accompanied with a call out to his recently built corduroy tent, if you know what I'm saying. As the walls began to close in on me, I decided that this was a good time to wrap things up for the evening and made up alternative plans that I was going to be late to if he didn't leave right away. He asked if he could see me later in the weekend and I said that I didn't know if that was a good idea and he backed off, but not before asking if he could TAKE HOME THE LEFTOVERS. To my complete and utter shock, my jaw dropped and I grabbed the piping hot pyrex casserole dish and placed it in his bare hands. He didn't reply with a "Thank You" but with a "Geeze, that hot, I should have brought gloves since I don't own pot holders. Call you later."

Call me later-he didn't, but text me later-he did. In fact he texted me every single day that he ate left overs with the same message that read "These leftovers taste almost as good as your feed did, but I guess I'll never know. Text me and we can hook up sometime." End quote. Now, if there is one thing a 24 year old, just embarking on her city dating adventures wants is a middle-aged man to act more immature that the collegiate bros she graduated from two years previously.

To this day, 6 years later, I still run into this guy from time to time, and he always makes a comment about my feet, sandals, toe nail polish or new tattoo. Washed up baseball player who blew through his $2MM signing bonus being dropped-I can sympathize with that. Unable to decorate an apartment-No problem, I love design. Poor dinner etiquette-I can work with that. Foot fetish with a lack of reading social cues-I just cant. #dealbreaker