Tonight I had my third date with a man I think I'll call the "Angry Architect." I'd noticed on our first two dates that there seemed to be a slight undercurrent of "angry," but I can be wrong about such things and I didn't want to judge him until I was sure.
On our first date, drinks at a nice restaurant/bar near my school, he referred to his ex-wife as an "obnoxious witch." That's not very nice, but many men have less than perfect relationships with their former wives.
On our second date, he mentioned in passing that he "can raise [his] voice when angry." That gave me serious pause, but he has many redeeming qualities, and I'd never seen real evidence of that temper. So when he called for a third date, I agreed to meet him.
Tonight was our third date. I met him at his house - we were going to go to an arts festival downtown. When I got there, we both agreed that Atlanta was just too hot today for us to spend time outside voluntarily. Unfortunately, he met me at the door with his dog, Max. Max is a cute dog, but he hasn't been trained at all, and he jumped all over me...with the architect doing nothing to discourage him. Since I was wearing a very nice sundress, I was a little annoyed. When we walked his dog in the neighborhood a few minutes later, two of his female neighbors seemed equally annoyed when the architect let Max jump all over them, too. Responsible pet training, anyone?
We watched a funny movie, a pleasant enough experience, and then we drove to a nearby restaurant for dinner, taking separate cars since I was going to leave for home from the restaurant.
Since we went to a Mexican restaurant, he ordered Dos Equis to drink (a Mexican beer.) I've never had beer, and I'm unlikely to start now. It has no appeal for me whatsoever. (I'd shared this fact with the architect at least twice on our previous dates.)
The architect poured his beer in a chilled glass, topping it with lime, and said, "Here, try this. It's not your average beer."
I said, "Oh, no thanks. I'll stick with my water."
He pressed, "Oh, come on. This is a Mexican restaurant and this is Mexican beer. You should try it."
I said, "No, really. I wouldn't care for any. But thanks."
And then I saw it...the flash of temper...it was just in his eyes and in his slight frown. But it was there. He was now the Angry Architect.
A few minutes later, a small group of people who appeared to be actors walked out of the restaurant and walked past our table on the patio. They were dressed as pirates, and the two women wore midriff-baring tops. Neither woman had the body-type that would make that a good fashion choice.
Rather than avert his eyes, the Angry Architect openly stared at them, saying loudly, "That's just disgusting. Look at all of that fat rolling out of the top of their pants. They should be ashamed of letting their bodies look like that and making us all look at it." Fortunately, the pirates were involved in a loud and boisterous conversation, so none of them heard the Angry Architect.
But I heard him.
Check, please.
There'll be no fourth date. I explained to the Angry Architect that we are just too different. I'm a happy librarian. And a Happy Librarian can't be happy with an Angry Architect!
Thus ends another chapter in the saga of the Lively Librarian Looking for Love.
P.S. Oh yes...and he mentioned at dinner that he "hates to read." Perfect!
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