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The excitement was building so much for my date with the 40 year old, that I did something I wouldn't normally do- go on a spontaneous mini-date with him the day before. We met up Thursday night to get Italian Ice and a couple of drinks. Afterward, we took a nice stroll through the neighborhood.
It was a pretty good date; and by the time I got home I was grinning ear to ear with anticipation for the next night.

And then it all went downhill. Fast.

First of all, the man loves to talk. About himself mainly. Although he would occasionally throw in some terrible antidotes about things that had happened to him that he thought hilarious. He would eagerly offer up these morsels and then look to me with a look on his face like a child who just found and brought home a stray dog.
I; sadly enough, would have to play the part of the parent who isn't interested at all. I'm sorry, but I just am not interested in listening to you talk for 45 minutes about all the "hysterical and wonderful" things you did when you were dressed up as Jesus for Halloween. Especially after you so falsely claimed that it was a better costume than Beetlejuice was. I. Think. Not.

I won't bore you with the rest of the conversations, because I wouldn't want to put anyone though the same pain I had to endure. Instead, I will give you two of the most unappealing quotes that anyone could hear on a date:

1) (Setup: We are sitting watching Dancing in the Park where the 40 year old decides to tell me about a bus tour through New Zealand he took. Apparently he sat at the front of the bus talking to the tour guide while everyone else sat in the back. After this statement I understand why.)
"I was farting a lot. And the tour guide said 'Stop man!' And I told him that it wasn't me. But there was no one else around, so it was totally me."

2) (Setup: We were having dinner.)
"I was talking to my brother and he brought up baby powder. I told him the last time that I had used baby powder, I was 8 and he was 2 and I was using the powder on his little scrotum and butt-hole."

Farting, scrotum AND butt-holes? Oh please tell me more! Nothing makes me swoon over a man faster than the subjects of passing gas and semi-vulgar terminology of what lies beneath a baby's diaper. At least he realized that the second topic probably wasn't something he should bring up in front of a girl or at dinner. But in his words, "Oh well."

How does one possibly end such a date, you may ask. And I have a one word answer to that: drunk.

It was the only thing that made him bearable. Not my most shining moment, to be sure... but I was a lot shinier than he. Point in case? He texted me the next day telling me how much he enjoyed our date and if he could see me again. I have yet to text back, and at this point I feel more than comfortable becoming the immature 24 year old who doesn't respond.