When Hisoka went back to Tokyo, he sent me text messages every day. I liked talking to him, but I wondered when he was going to give up. He does not come to Hong Kong every weekend, and even when he is here, he is always going to meetings and conferences and business dinners. I did not think he had time for anyone and I definitely was not interested in another long distance relationship. The last time I had one of those, I lost the closest thing I have ever come to a soulmate. I'm overjoyed that we never got married. That would have been a disaster. But ending that relationship was painful at the time.
Eventually, Hisoka came up with a plan for our first date. I immediately told him it was crazy. He agreed with me, but he also thought it would work out pretty well. He obviously put a lot of thought into it.
His next trip to China was too busy, but he was going straight from Hong Kong to Hiroshima, where he would have some free time before he had to be back in Tokyo. Since it is only a three hour flight to Hiroshima, he reasoned that we could go together, have our date in Hiroshima and then I could either stick around and explore the city or go home when he went back to Tokyo.
I had a list of reasons why that would never work.
1. I can't go to another country just for a date.
2. A three hour flight translates to eight hours of airports and transportation, one way.
3. I don't know anything about Hiroshima, other than we bombed it a few years ago. If I want to spend the night, I have not done any research. If I do not spend the night, that is one crazy trip.
Hisoka had plenty of answers.
1. Why not? Hong Kong is surrounded by other countries. If you never want to cross a border, you can never leave the city.
2. Since he is using his company's plane, there would be little time spent at the airport. Private flights are much easier than commercial flights.
3. Hiroshima has all the best of Japan. It is an ancient city with all the culture, but the buildings and infrastructure are relatively new. Nothing in the city was built before 1945, mostly because we bombed it a few years ago.
We went back and forth for a while, but then Hisoka pushed me over the edge with something Hiroshima could offer that I would never find in Hong Kong. Honshu is essentially an island of volcanoes and earthquakes. All those volcanoes make it a great place for hot springs, which the Japanese have been enjoying since the beginning of time. According to Hisoka, Hiroshima has some of the best hot springs in the world. He knew a place where we could soak and eat, and I could even spend some extra time if I wanted.
I love hot tubs, and hot springs are a million times better. But I'm not spending the night with anyone on a first date, whether that hotel is on top of a geothermic river or not. Hisoka pointed out that sleeping there was not required. I could go back home the same day or spend the weekend. He had to go to Tokyo that night no matter what I did. Whether I stayed or went home, I would do it without him.
This was an interesting idea. Still crazy, but different. Usually when a guy wants to take you away for the weekend, he wants hotel sex, and maybe see some of the sights. Hisoka wanted to take me away and then take off. That gave me the independence to do whatever I wanted in a new city without all the hassle of getting there by myself. After I asked him a million questions, I agreed to go and he made all the arrangements. All I had to do was decide how long I wanted to stay.
Lily liked the idea of me going away for the weekend with a guy, but she thought the part about going to another country was crazy. Since she is Canadian, her idea of leaving the county is the same as mine, a long trip to somewhere far away. But we live in Hong Kong, where you can leave the country on a quick plane ride, or even by boat.
I explained to Lily that Hisoka was not at all threatening. He was calm and polite.
“So are serial killers,” she told me.
I explained that we were not going to spend the night together. We were going away together on a first date, which was strange, but I would spend the night alone and come back home alone. She had no problem with the idea of us spending the night together. She actively encouraged me to have more sex with more men. Her concern was the part about leaving the country.
“If we lived in Los Angeles and he wanted to take me to Las Vegas, would that bother you?” I asked her.
From my point of view, it was similar. Hong Kong and Hiroshima are in different countries, but close to each other, like California and Nevada, but with a lot of water in between. Of course, a better analogy would have been Los Angeles to Kansas City. Los Angeles to Las Vegas is more like Hong Kong to Xiamen. Lily would not have balked if he wanted to take me to Xiamen.
Lily would have felt better if she could meet Hisoka first and see how unthreatening he was, but if he had time to meet her, we could have a normal first date. I pointed out that she always wanted me to be more reckless with men. She always envisioned scenarios where I would not be sold into human trafficking.
Thursday, May 31, 2018
Monday, May 28, 2018
Dating Underwater
1. Who's That Coming Round That Corner
I may not know much about the dating world, and dating in Hong Kong is definitely unlike anything I ever experienced in Minnesota, but I can safely say beyond any shadow of a doubt that I just had the strangest first date of my entire life. I will try to describe it without being unnecessarily verbose. I will probably fail.
I met Hisoka at HMV. We both reached for the last copy of Paul McCartney's Red Rose Speedway at the same time. When he politely backed down so that I could grab it, I assumed he was Japanese. When he spoke, he assumed I knew English. Both safe assumptions.
He asked me if I was old enough to know who Paul McCartney was. Hisoka does not look much older than me, but I ignored that since Paul's music does not have an age requirement. Instead, I mentioned that I saw Paul in concert last year in Tokyo. This excited Hisoka for a few reasons. Not only does he live in Tokyo, but he also went to that concert. It turns out we went on different days, but it was a small world anyway. When he asked me if I wanted to go out for coffee, I politely declined. My manners confused him since he assumed I was American.
In the end, I let Hisoka have the album. Mostly because it was vinyl and I do not have a record player. I just wanted to look at it. Red Rose Speedway has a few different versions. What they had at the record store was not the first edition with the booklet inside, of course. Hisoka, in turn, gave me his business card. Just in case I changed my mind.
Maybe half an hour later, I ran into him again downstairs at Jason's Market. If he was following me, he did a good job because he got there first. We did not reach for the same drinks, but we did see each other. Had Lily been there, she would have told me that the universe was giving me a sign. She would not necessarily believe that, but she likes to encourage me to get out and meet new people. He likes Paul McCartney and I like Japan. That would be enough for her.
Hisoka saw an opening and asked me out for coffee again. I do not drink coffee, and was actually at Jason's to get a drink, but I knew a place around the corner where we could sit down and talk. I was not the least surprised when he started telling me about his work. From what I have seen, Japanese people generally tend to have a stronger work ethic than my people.
Hisoka works at a software company that is developing virtual reality programs. I appreciated his enthusiasm for his career. He genuinely loves what he does, and can probably talk about it all day. He might have assumed that since I looked about his age, I would also be interested, but I have never cared about video games. Virtual reality will be as common as cell phones some day and have a million applications, but what he was doing was all about playing games. He must have noticed my eyes glazing over. Instead of droning on and on, he asked me why I was in Hong Kong. When you are a white girl in China, that question comes up from time to time.
I genuinely love what I do. I know I can talk about it all day. But I also know that most people don't know the difference between a grand jeté and arabesque. More often than not, when I tell people I'm a dancer, they want to talk about something else. Something Hisoka and I had to talk about was Hong Kong. I live here, but I'm obviously not from here. He lives in Tokyo and often comes to town on business.
We sat and talked longer than either of us expected. Our resumes might not have anything in common, but we both like the same music and movies. We both think Japan is a great place and we both have long lists of other places we want to go. When it was well past time for him to go where he needed to be, he suggested we arrange a proper date. I did not bother to tell him that I saw no point in going out with someone who lives in a different country. Not that it mattered. According to his phone, his schedule was pretty tight. When we left in opposite directions, he was confident that he would figure something out. I was sure we would never see each other again.
I met Hisoka at HMV. We both reached for the last copy of Paul McCartney's Red Rose Speedway at the same time. When he politely backed down so that I could grab it, I assumed he was Japanese. When he spoke, he assumed I knew English. Both safe assumptions.
He asked me if I was old enough to know who Paul McCartney was. Hisoka does not look much older than me, but I ignored that since Paul's music does not have an age requirement. Instead, I mentioned that I saw Paul in concert last year in Tokyo. This excited Hisoka for a few reasons. Not only does he live in Tokyo, but he also went to that concert. It turns out we went on different days, but it was a small world anyway. When he asked me if I wanted to go out for coffee, I politely declined. My manners confused him since he assumed I was American.
In the end, I let Hisoka have the album. Mostly because it was vinyl and I do not have a record player. I just wanted to look at it. Red Rose Speedway has a few different versions. What they had at the record store was not the first edition with the booklet inside, of course. Hisoka, in turn, gave me his business card. Just in case I changed my mind.
Maybe half an hour later, I ran into him again downstairs at Jason's Market. If he was following me, he did a good job because he got there first. We did not reach for the same drinks, but we did see each other. Had Lily been there, she would have told me that the universe was giving me a sign. She would not necessarily believe that, but she likes to encourage me to get out and meet new people. He likes Paul McCartney and I like Japan. That would be enough for her.
Hisoka saw an opening and asked me out for coffee again. I do not drink coffee, and was actually at Jason's to get a drink, but I knew a place around the corner where we could sit down and talk. I was not the least surprised when he started telling me about his work. From what I have seen, Japanese people generally tend to have a stronger work ethic than my people.
Hisoka works at a software company that is developing virtual reality programs. I appreciated his enthusiasm for his career. He genuinely loves what he does, and can probably talk about it all day. He might have assumed that since I looked about his age, I would also be interested, but I have never cared about video games. Virtual reality will be as common as cell phones some day and have a million applications, but what he was doing was all about playing games. He must have noticed my eyes glazing over. Instead of droning on and on, he asked me why I was in Hong Kong. When you are a white girl in China, that question comes up from time to time.
I genuinely love what I do. I know I can talk about it all day. But I also know that most people don't know the difference between a grand jeté and arabesque. More often than not, when I tell people I'm a dancer, they want to talk about something else. Something Hisoka and I had to talk about was Hong Kong. I live here, but I'm obviously not from here. He lives in Tokyo and often comes to town on business.
We sat and talked longer than either of us expected. Our resumes might not have anything in common, but we both like the same music and movies. We both think Japan is a great place and we both have long lists of other places we want to go. When it was well past time for him to go where he needed to be, he suggested we arrange a proper date. I did not bother to tell him that I saw no point in going out with someone who lives in a different country. Not that it mattered. According to his phone, his schedule was pretty tight. When we left in opposite directions, he was confident that he would figure something out. I was sure we would never see each other again.
Wednesday, May 16, 2018
High School Reunion
Sooner or later, we all get old. When you are a child, anyone who can drive a car is old. When you are in high school, people who go to class reunions are old.
My high school reunion is in July. Why am I finding out about it so late? It was announced on Facebook. I'm not on Facebook. Someone who is on Facebook told me about it through old fashioned media. I suppose I should be happy that someone eventually realized my name was not on any of the lists.
I don't know if I'm going to go. On the one hand, I had some great friends in high school. On the other hand, those friendships faded over time, as they do. You move on with your life and develop other interests besides school activities and which boys are the cutest. I have not been to a single football game since high school and can't remember the last time I kissed a boy behind the bleachers. I have other priorities these days, as I'm sure do most of my old friends. Moving to Hong Kong was the final nail in a few of those coffins.
I have not been to Minnesota since a summer vacation in 2012. There is no particular reason that it has been so long. I have simply chosen to go to other places. When you live in Hong Kong, it's easier and cheaper to fly around Asia and even Europe. The United States is expensive and far away. I went to Canada two years ago. The two flights to get there took 18 hours, but cost about as much as the first leg of all the flights it would take to get to Minnesota. In about 12 hours, I could fly to Amsterdam or Paris for less. For the price of a ticket from San Francisco to Minneapolis, I could fly to Bali in five hours, Tokyo in four or Bangkok in three.
Then there is airport security. That might be important in this day and age, but the TSA is out of control. I have no idea why Americans put up with it. The illusion of security will never make up for genuine security. Searching an old lady's colostomy bag and groping autistic children does absolutely nothing to make you safer. If anything, it makes you less safe. That time could have been better spent on the one in a millionth person who might actually be suspicious. When I had a job in Tel Aviv, I used to fly to Israel every month or two. That is one country with every right to be paranoid about security, but they are not. Tel Aviv's airport security is the exact opposite of the TSA. They are efficient and highly successful. I would rather go through an Israeli, Indonesian or Thai airport every day than an American airport any day.
I also have a few tiny plates in my head. There are no medical prohibitions against my flying. In fact, I flew home from Beijing long before I was ever medically cleared to jet up into the atmosphere. There is no reason to expect anything in my head will set off the metal detectors. Nothing happened in Beijing. But if I wear a hat at the airport, I will have to take it off. If their security is observant, they will see the scar. Since this is the TSA, they might think I had drugs surgically implanted into my skull. That sounds stupid, but so does the TSA.
If I do go, it will be in July. There is absolutely nothing I can do about that. I suppose it makes sense to have reunions in the summer. That is when most people have some time off. But my last trip to Minnesota was in the summer. I would rather go in the winter. That sounds strange to people who think Minnesota is a frozen wasteland all year, but it is actually a beautiful winter wonderland. Especially if you don't have to live through it every year. We don't have winter in Hong Kong, and the last time I went anywhere with snow was that trip to Canada two years ago. My last trip into the United States was to Los Angeles and San Francisco. Snow was never an option.
My high school reunion is in July. Why am I finding out about it so late? It was announced on Facebook. I'm not on Facebook. Someone who is on Facebook told me about it through old fashioned media. I suppose I should be happy that someone eventually realized my name was not on any of the lists.
I don't know if I'm going to go. On the one hand, I had some great friends in high school. On the other hand, those friendships faded over time, as they do. You move on with your life and develop other interests besides school activities and which boys are the cutest. I have not been to a single football game since high school and can't remember the last time I kissed a boy behind the bleachers. I have other priorities these days, as I'm sure do most of my old friends. Moving to Hong Kong was the final nail in a few of those coffins.
I have not been to Minnesota since a summer vacation in 2012. There is no particular reason that it has been so long. I have simply chosen to go to other places. When you live in Hong Kong, it's easier and cheaper to fly around Asia and even Europe. The United States is expensive and far away. I went to Canada two years ago. The two flights to get there took 18 hours, but cost about as much as the first leg of all the flights it would take to get to Minnesota. In about 12 hours, I could fly to Amsterdam or Paris for less. For the price of a ticket from San Francisco to Minneapolis, I could fly to Bali in five hours, Tokyo in four or Bangkok in three.
Then there is airport security. That might be important in this day and age, but the TSA is out of control. I have no idea why Americans put up with it. The illusion of security will never make up for genuine security. Searching an old lady's colostomy bag and groping autistic children does absolutely nothing to make you safer. If anything, it makes you less safe. That time could have been better spent on the one in a millionth person who might actually be suspicious. When I had a job in Tel Aviv, I used to fly to Israel every month or two. That is one country with every right to be paranoid about security, but they are not. Tel Aviv's airport security is the exact opposite of the TSA. They are efficient and highly successful. I would rather go through an Israeli, Indonesian or Thai airport every day than an American airport any day.
I also have a few tiny plates in my head. There are no medical prohibitions against my flying. In fact, I flew home from Beijing long before I was ever medically cleared to jet up into the atmosphere. There is no reason to expect anything in my head will set off the metal detectors. Nothing happened in Beijing. But if I wear a hat at the airport, I will have to take it off. If their security is observant, they will see the scar. Since this is the TSA, they might think I had drugs surgically implanted into my skull. That sounds stupid, but so does the TSA.
If I do go, it will be in July. There is absolutely nothing I can do about that. I suppose it makes sense to have reunions in the summer. That is when most people have some time off. But my last trip to Minnesota was in the summer. I would rather go in the winter. That sounds strange to people who think Minnesota is a frozen wasteland all year, but it is actually a beautiful winter wonderland. Especially if you don't have to live through it every year. We don't have winter in Hong Kong, and the last time I went anywhere with snow was that trip to Canada two years ago. My last trip into the United States was to Los Angeles and San Francisco. Snow was never an option.
Saturday, May 5, 2018
Dating in the Age of Social Media
A while back, I mentioned that I would post any comments from anyone I have dated lately. To my surprise, someone actually took me up on it. Rutherford and I went out on a single date a few months ago.
As a reminder, here are some highlights of what I said about the date:
January 30, 2018 (the full post)
Rutherford and I met up at Curry Leaf, an Indian restaurant in Jordan. No one ever picks anyone up in Hong Kong. It's not that kind of town. Everyone meets each other somewhere. In suburbia, you pick up your date and go into town. In a city of a few million people, you might live on opposite sides of wherever you are going. Meeting someplace just makes more sense. I would not want a first date to know where I live anyway.
Although Rutherford picked the restaurant, he immediately complained that it did not look authentic enough. It looked like a million Hong Kong restaurants to me, but he wanted it to look like we were in India.
“I've been to Chennai,” he announced. “I know how it's supposed to look.”
“Ok,” I replied. “But this is Hong Kong. Have you ever seen an American restaurant here that actually looks American? Why would an Indian restaurant actually look Indian?”
That must not have been what he wanted to hear. He seemed determined to complain.
The food morally offended him. Everything on the menu had Indian names, but nothing was authentically Indian, as far as he was concerned. I have never been to India, so I don't know, but I am pretty sure that someone who spent a week in one city is not an expert. Predictably, nothing he ate that night was proper Indian food. I could not taste anything, so I have no idea if it was any good or not, but it looked good. Was it 100% authentic Indian? Probably not. If they want to make money in Hong Kong, it's probably closer to the British version of Indian with a healthy dose of Chinese Indian. No restaurant in China is 100% anything, except Chinese.
It might sound like the complaining was what broke the camel's back on this date, but I'm more than aware that everyone can have an off night. I don't really care if a restaurant in Hong Kong does not remind people of India, so I had no reason to argue or agree with him. He ruined the night when he insisted that I take off my hat.
The first time he saw me, on the promenade, I was wearing a toque. Lily and I were in exercise clothes and we were clearly walking around for exercise. On our date, I was wearing a different toque. With the hat on, you can't tell if I have short hair or if I put my hair up. He was curious, which is understandable, but would not take let it go for an answer. I did not want to get into the whole brain surgery thing on a first date. I think if I did that, it would dominate the evening. It took over my life for a long time and I am trying to take it back. A date should be one of those times when I can get away from it and think about something else. But by not explaining why I did not want to remove my hat, he got caught up in the mystery. Had he asked me a couple of times to take the hat off and then dropped it, we could have moved on. Instead, he quickly obsessed over my hair.
Here is a public service announcement to all men all over the world: Women generally do not like it when a man they met five minutes ago insists that she take off an article of clothing on command. No means no.
The only thing that got him off the subject was the arrival of our food. For appetizers, he got samosas and I got the dahi kebab, which he quickly pointed out cost twice as much. I always intended on paying for myself, but I thought it was tacky of him to quote the prices. He never pointed out that the rest of his meal was almost three times the price of mine. His bhuna ghosht was more than twice my aloo baingan masala. He also got some boondi raita on the side and an expensive fruit drink while I just had tea.
We both had bread that was essentially the same price, but he had a comment about my choice anyway.
“You should never order garlic naan on a date,” he told me. “No one wants to kiss a girl who just ate garlic.”
“Fortunately, that won't be an issue tonight,” I replied.
After dinner, he wanted to go to one of the pubs down the street. I told him I'm not a drinker, which is true, but I never pointed out that I was tired and ready to go home. He would have assumed it was because of him, when he was only half the reason. Had he suggested something else, I might have been open, but he had his heart set on overpriced drinks at some trendy bar. The restaurant was where we parted ways.
The next day, I got a text message. “Cant w8 2cu again no hats this time ok”
I was going to just ignore him, but instead, I sent my own message. “I'll make you a deal. We can have a second date if you wear a hat.”
That was a mistake. His next dozen unanswered messages went on and on about why I was completely unreasonable for not taking off my hat. Eventually, Lily sent him a message wondering out loud how many hats he could shove up his ass. He never replied.
I suppose I could have just told him why I was wearing the hat in the first place, but why should that not be up to me? Do I really need to explain to someone I do not even know why I'm wearing a hat? If your date will not take off her hat, is it really that important? Call me old fashioned, but I think you should get to know someone before you try to act that controlling.
Rutherford will never know why we never had a second date. When he tells his friends his side of the story, it will be one of those “bitches be crazy” excuses.
As it turns out, he will know why we never had a second date because he read this blog.
Here is Rutherford's rebuttal, posted uncensored and unedited:
As a reminder, here are some highlights of what I said about the date:
January 30, 2018 (the full post)
Rutherford and I met up at Curry Leaf, an Indian restaurant in Jordan. No one ever picks anyone up in Hong Kong. It's not that kind of town. Everyone meets each other somewhere. In suburbia, you pick up your date and go into town. In a city of a few million people, you might live on opposite sides of wherever you are going. Meeting someplace just makes more sense. I would not want a first date to know where I live anyway.
Although Rutherford picked the restaurant, he immediately complained that it did not look authentic enough. It looked like a million Hong Kong restaurants to me, but he wanted it to look like we were in India.
“I've been to Chennai,” he announced. “I know how it's supposed to look.”
“Ok,” I replied. “But this is Hong Kong. Have you ever seen an American restaurant here that actually looks American? Why would an Indian restaurant actually look Indian?”
That must not have been what he wanted to hear. He seemed determined to complain.
The food morally offended him. Everything on the menu had Indian names, but nothing was authentically Indian, as far as he was concerned. I have never been to India, so I don't know, but I am pretty sure that someone who spent a week in one city is not an expert. Predictably, nothing he ate that night was proper Indian food. I could not taste anything, so I have no idea if it was any good or not, but it looked good. Was it 100% authentic Indian? Probably not. If they want to make money in Hong Kong, it's probably closer to the British version of Indian with a healthy dose of Chinese Indian. No restaurant in China is 100% anything, except Chinese.
It might sound like the complaining was what broke the camel's back on this date, but I'm more than aware that everyone can have an off night. I don't really care if a restaurant in Hong Kong does not remind people of India, so I had no reason to argue or agree with him. He ruined the night when he insisted that I take off my hat.
The first time he saw me, on the promenade, I was wearing a toque. Lily and I were in exercise clothes and we were clearly walking around for exercise. On our date, I was wearing a different toque. With the hat on, you can't tell if I have short hair or if I put my hair up. He was curious, which is understandable, but would not take let it go for an answer. I did not want to get into the whole brain surgery thing on a first date. I think if I did that, it would dominate the evening. It took over my life for a long time and I am trying to take it back. A date should be one of those times when I can get away from it and think about something else. But by not explaining why I did not want to remove my hat, he got caught up in the mystery. Had he asked me a couple of times to take the hat off and then dropped it, we could have moved on. Instead, he quickly obsessed over my hair.
Here is a public service announcement to all men all over the world: Women generally do not like it when a man they met five minutes ago insists that she take off an article of clothing on command. No means no.
The only thing that got him off the subject was the arrival of our food. For appetizers, he got samosas and I got the dahi kebab, which he quickly pointed out cost twice as much. I always intended on paying for myself, but I thought it was tacky of him to quote the prices. He never pointed out that the rest of his meal was almost three times the price of mine. His bhuna ghosht was more than twice my aloo baingan masala. He also got some boondi raita on the side and an expensive fruit drink while I just had tea.
We both had bread that was essentially the same price, but he had a comment about my choice anyway.
“You should never order garlic naan on a date,” he told me. “No one wants to kiss a girl who just ate garlic.”
“Fortunately, that won't be an issue tonight,” I replied.
After dinner, he wanted to go to one of the pubs down the street. I told him I'm not a drinker, which is true, but I never pointed out that I was tired and ready to go home. He would have assumed it was because of him, when he was only half the reason. Had he suggested something else, I might have been open, but he had his heart set on overpriced drinks at some trendy bar. The restaurant was where we parted ways.
The next day, I got a text message. “Cant w8 2cu again no hats this time ok”
I was going to just ignore him, but instead, I sent my own message. “I'll make you a deal. We can have a second date if you wear a hat.”
That was a mistake. His next dozen unanswered messages went on and on about why I was completely unreasonable for not taking off my hat. Eventually, Lily sent him a message wondering out loud how many hats he could shove up his ass. He never replied.
I suppose I could have just told him why I was wearing the hat in the first place, but why should that not be up to me? Do I really need to explain to someone I do not even know why I'm wearing a hat? If your date will not take off her hat, is it really that important? Call me old fashioned, but I think you should get to know someone before you try to act that controlling.
Rutherford will never know why we never had a second date. When he tells his friends his side of the story, it will be one of those “bitches be crazy” excuses.
As it turns out, he will know why we never had a second date because he read this blog.
Here is Rutherford's rebuttal, posted uncensored and unedited:
“1st thing I like girls who try and look good. On our date you dressed okay a little to conservative and not enough skin showing by FAR. This is a date not church. You wore a wool cap and ZERO makeup. All the signals were leave me alone I'm reading a book. Girls on dates like to make some effort into there looks short skirts show some leg a little clevege is good too. Not slutty but just enough show your interested. All girls wear makeup the only time they don't is when they want left alone or doing laundry. You told me NOTHING why you wearing the wool cap so there's no way I can know about your accident. I only found out after reading your blog. Maybe don't date any till your fully recovered? I put my shoulder out once didn't date again till it was healed.
“2nd thing the restaurant should of been better. Everyone said how great it was 5 stars on facebook 4 stars on openrice how great the Indian food. I been to India so I know it wasn't real AT ALL. I AM an expert you can say I'm not but I know I AM. I know REAL Indian food this was not REAL. You've never been to India you admit it so you don't know. I know. You never complained about the food because you don't KNOW how its supposed to be like. I “quoted the prices” because girls like to pretend they don't eat than they eat more than everyone else and the guy always has to pay for it ALL. I told you not to eat garlic that's just common sense. You NEVER eat garlic on a date. I don't care what anyone says NO guy wants to kiss a girl who just ate garlic.
“3rd thing like I said you never told me about your accident so there's no way I'd know about it. Your wearing a wool cap which is wired enough in Hong Kong but your also wearing it on a date. Who does that? If you have short hair okay that's one thing long hair is better but I can live with short hair long as your letting it grow but you can't hide your hair all the way. Guys want to see a girls hair. Its not just me you'll find every guy you date wants to see your hair so no more wool caps that's just CRAZY.
“4th thing I wanted to get drinks because it was still early and I hoped getting a few drinks in you would make you losen up maybe take off the cap. There's a bar I take all my dates and they ALWAYS have a good time after a few drinks. Lets be honest no guys getting anywhere with you without getting you drunk first. I knew right away first thing going the bar was my only shot.
“Last thing you or your friend or whoever was really rude sending me texts. You could just give me another shot but no you tell me to stick it up my ASS? That's not cool that's harrassment your lucky I didn't report you.
“Signed Christian aka Ruthorford
“PS its a shame because your cute enough I thought you had potential but you blew it SORRY you missed out on a GREAT GUY that's me.”
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)