Exhibit 353: Scott, 27, web-developer by day, DJ by night and lunatic all-around. A young alpha male on steroids who shall grow up to be a wife-beating, jail cell-walking POS. Oops, did I really just say that?

I get a pretty normal, easy going - somewhat charismatic email from Scott. His profile picture is cute and playful. This guy must be funny. We naturally progress to exchanging numbers and then I get a text message. Of course, real men don’t text the first time. Only infantile “wastes-of-my-time” text the first time.

Ok, that last thought was a bit harsh, but only because I’m so baffled by the scum I’ve recently come across in this city. I had to put it out there ladies - to warn you. Not all guys who text the first time are bad. But the majority of the time - it’s a waste. Moving on to the story…

I get a text from someone who I’ve never spoken to in person. Meet me at 11am on Hayes and Gough on Saturday. We’ll have coffee. I jokingly replied, Is this message going to self-destruct? Yes, becareful. And that was it. About two days later, since I didn’t hear anything, I inquired if we were still meeting. Yes, see you Saturday. Weirdo.

We meet each other on the corner and step into The Grove to order some coffee. He gets in line first and orders for himself. What happened to ladies first? Were you raised by a pack of wolves? Someone should teach you manners, bonehead. He pays for my cup of tea and we walk back to where we met. Let’s walk over to this park down the street. We find a cute little park to sit and chat. Small talk and the usual awkward intro surveying questions.

After I answered one of his questions, he stood up, and said Let’s walk down to City Hall. Have you ever been inside? Ok, this is starting to feel too much like a cookie-cutter date tour. As we’re walking I notice he’s walking IN FRONT of me instead of next to me. Again, no manners.

In less than 5 minutes of walking, he says, I’ll walk you to your car. I have some things to do. THANK GOD. He walks me to my car and as I hug him he grabs me by the shoulders and I think he’s about to do a head bump with me. Yuck, the kiss was not attractive. I pulled away and gave him a sour beer face. Before I got in my car and drove away as fast as I could, this idiot had the nerve to say, Next time, confirm a bit earlier, OK? Next time? Who the hell are you kidding?

Three days later, I get a text message.

Hi Taylor. Pick me up tomorrow at 9PM. We’ll go see a movie at the AMC.

Next.