The Drinker

I have decided to approach this chronologically, so let us begin with The Drinker, who took two dates to earn his (rather deserved) title. Our interaction began with an exchange of emails that could only be described as charming and witty, producing giggles well worthy of a substantial eye roll or two. We covered a variety of topics, though most time was spent engaged in that high-brow battle known as "smack talk" regarding our respective football teams (red flag number one: Steelers fan...).

At this point allow me to interject a little side note about this lovely blog... I decided to include a "Lessons Learned" feature in order to fully immerse you all, my dear friends, in the wonders of my dating adventures. So with that said, my first Lesson Learned is brought to you by The Drinker: Do NOT lead with sports. Just because I know, love, and am comfortable with discussing the wide world of sports, I should avoid basing relationships on a shared knowledge and/or love of them. Turns out there should be a little more to establishing a person's character than that (however, the Steelers red flag serves as evidence that there is always an exception to the rule). Now those of you who know me well have probably heard me say all this before, but apparently I needed the reminder. Lesson learned.

Anyway, back to The Drinker. After being appropriately admonished by a great friend/brilliant-lady-who-should-write-an-advice-column-if-the-whole-grown-up-career-thing-doesn't-pan-out that I wasn't in this whole Match.com thing to gain a new pen pal, I decided it was time to meet this guy. So (after an ego-boosting shopping trip for sassy new accessories) we met for drinks. And drinks were had. Now, it should be said we were there for almost four hours and the conversation went well, though it was driven by me (but after all, who goes on a date to ask questions about the other person? Silly expectations). The conversation took a turn for the worst as the evening concluded, mainly because he was consuming beverages at a rate of approximately 3.45 beers to my one, of which I had three (Who would have thought I would have math in my blog, right? And yes, I did say my BEER). I ended the night when he started to be a bit obnoxious, but chalked it up to nerves and agreed to meet him again to watch football the next Sunday. Thus concludes Date One.

Now those few of you who have had the pleasure of watching a football game with members of my family know that our clan gets a little passionate, with a certain matriarchal figure in particular representing us at our screaming best. So it goes without saying that I can handle some yelling and screaming during a football game. This would be a good time to say that I considered an alternate pseudonym for The Drinker - The Screamer - but decided there were too many misinterpretations to be had with that option. With the previous disclaimer in mind, believe me when I tell you that this man screamed with such frightening sincerity and maliciousness that I was actually uncomfortable and slightly nervous.

In addition to the angry, loud belittling of every offensive lineman on the Steerlers' side, there was the real reason for his moniker. When I arrived at 10am, he had already taken two shots of vodka and he proceeded to take several more before I "got called in early for work" at halftime (my apologies for the white lie I told him about our truly splendid fitness grad assistant's supposed ineptitude and desperate need for my help). I feel like inserting a beat here. Yes, vodka shots at 10am. Some extra details to enhance the experience for you: He made some jackass comments about my Joe Montana jersey (strikes one, two, and three), barely talked to me, and spent the majority of time on the phone, when not yelling at the television.

After one more text message later that day disparaging Alex Smith, I have not heard from The Drinker. I serendipitously lost his number, so I suppose that's that. And though I know for sure now that I will not be leading with sports (Lesson Learned), I'm going to attribute this date's lack of success less to the focus on sport, and more on his status as - you guessed it (or maybe one or two of you guessed it) - a Steelers fan.

'Til next time!