I met this dude on Tinder who ended up knowing my friend Amy. I got the scoop on this dude from her. She said “he doesn’t drink, but he’s literally so hilarious… you’re going to love him!” So, I say yes to his date and we meet up at the pizza pub around the corner from my place. He was cute and charming, but kept harping on the fact that since he’s a recovering alcoholic, he doesn’t like going to bars or anywhere that may tempt him…. As I take a shot of Jameson on our date. Hey – I asked him if it was cool if I ordered a drink and he said had no qualms about it.
We finish up dinner and head over to this coffee joint (thank God – the date was getting more boring by the minute, I needed something to wake me up) and sat outside with our coffee to chat. Then, I felt it. My stomach dropped and my gut started bubbling. I was about to take a giant dump on this date, which was already in the shitter. I told him I needed to go to the ladies room so if he wanted to leave, I’d text him later. No, he insisted on waiting for me. NOOOOO! I knew this wasn’t going to be a little ‘dump-n-go’, this was going to a major production. So, I do my business as quickly as I could and come back out looking like I had just given birth, which, I’m not entirely sure I didn’t.
There they were – poo judge eyes. He looked at me like I was the most disgusting human being on the planet for pinching a loaf on our first date. Listen dude, I sat here ALL night listening to how fun you USED to be while I’m on a date with a monotoned Ben Stein… dropping the Browns off at the Super Bowl was the most exciting thing to happen on our date thus far! We parted ways and just for kicks, I said, “We should do this again!” Never saw that dude again. Thanks a lot, Butt.