Mol-e Mol-e Mol-e!

Remember that scene in Austin Powers.... Mole mole mole mole.....

Now picture that character, except change a few details. The mole is actually on his inner eyelid, obstructing his ability to fully open one of his eyes. And his eyebrows are about 8 times thicker.

Well... take that image in your head and imagine me with him, on the date I went on last night.

Yeah. I know. Let's call him Sean.

So it all started when he responded to a Craigslist ad I posted looking for new friends in my area. He sent me a link to his Facebook profile where I found that in college, he lived with this guy Nick who I had a ridiculous crush on in high school, which was a totally random coincidence. All of his pictures were from a pretty good distance and he looked like he was pretty cute.

We played phone tag for awhile and he totally made me laugh, which is a huge plus in my book. We finally found a night we were both free and decided to have dinner. He called me on the way home from the office (he's an attorney... hot!) and said we could go anywhere I wanted... I suggested BJ's Pizza (my faaaavorite pizza ever), which he sounded excited about.

We met there (thank GOD.... great for easy get-aways when necessary) and when I walked into the waiting area I found him there: thick ass brows, obscene mole, college sweatshirt, cargo shorts, flip flops, hasn't shaved in days - the whole enchilada. Don't get me wrong... I'm all for being casual, but on a first date? At night? Out to dinner? With a female? Were you raised by wolves?

We sat there, waiting for a table... with me wondering if I should feign illness, and then him talking about how much he dislikes BJ's (the restaurant, not the felatio, duh!) and how he'd had lunch there today and had no idea what he was going to order because he doesn't like anything on the menu... and then me wondering if I should say I forgot to lock my car and run out the door, and then some more complaints from him. And I just so happen to be very turned off by negativity. And large facial moles.

To make a long and painful story short, he spent the whole time asking me lame questions and then hardly pretending to listen to the answer while he watched some sports game on the screen behind my head, complaining about how boring his job is, talking about how much he hates to be touched (hugs included) and mostly insisting that I was bored. On the other hand, I spent the whole time eating my favorite pizza (spinach & artichoke... try it), chugging pomegranate margaritas, and checking out the hot waiters... which he didn't even notice, not once. Other than him being there, I actually had a pretty nice evening.

Finally after the 8th time of him saying, "you're bored. You're so bored. Are you bored? You seem bored," I snapped back, "if I am bored, saying that is not going to help you any. Trust me." That shut him up about it. He went back to complaining.

Eventually the bill came, but he made no move to pay it. There was no way I was going to consider even paying my share, since this is the worst date I've been on in a long ass time. The bill sat there for literally 20 minutes while I secretly stared daggers at him and his stupid planet-sized eyelid mole and his negative attitude and waited for him to pay it. The waitress came by to pick up the check and he had to tell her it wasn't taken care of yet, and he STILL didn't do anything with it. Did he expect me to pay??

"Thank you SO much for dinner!" I gushed.

He slipped his card into the slot and I smiled because I was satisfied and tipsy. I counted down the minutes 'til the check returned for him to sign and he finished his stupid beer and I could take off.

We walked out to the parking lot, and I was feeling so thankful that I wouldn't even have to hug him considering how he absolutely can't stand being touched. We got to the driveway between the spots we parked in and I said, "don't worry, I won't hug you," and he said, "oh shut up, come here," and gave me this shockingly big, long, and firm hug that I was not expecting nor excited about. I pulled away, said another quick thanks-for-dinner and rushed to my car, jumped in, and sped off.

Minutes later, I get a text message. It's him.

"No goodnight kiss?"

YOU'VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME.