Dates I Fucked Up

• Lori Palminteri
• Uncategorized
• February 14, 2016

In light of Valentine’s Day, the day of pretend love, I’d like to shed light on how socially odd I can be, especially when dating.  I don’t write a lot about my love life.  This is mostly because comedy consumes my life, and I’m a very selfish person, and rarely put anyone else before me and my career, but it’s also because my love life is none of your goddamn business.  But these are funny, and I’m about humiliating myself in the name of humor. 

CAUGHT LYING

I canceled a date with a guy which was the second or third time I flaked out on him (I’m a notorious flake when it comes to dating. I probably cancel 70% of the dates I make).  I made up some family reason, bull shit, I don’t really remember what I said.  But the real reason I canceled is because I felt like I was falling behind on my writing, and needed to sit down for a few hours and just write instead of going out with him.  I didn’t tell him this because I didn’t think he’d understand.  When the date was canceled, I was relieved, and packed up my laptop and notebooks and headed to Starbucks to be a cliche.  After about an hour, guess who coincidentally shows up?  Yup.  The guy I was supposed to be on a date with.

He smiled, and asked what I was doing here.  Sure, I may have lied to him via text, but truth is, I’m a really bad liar.  So, I immediately started unraveling, and I went on this rant about comedy, and writing, and working hard, and not compromising my dream.  I’m not sure if any of it made sense to him.  He smiled, and nodded, and was giving me this “oh you’re batshit crazy” look.

He did ask me out again, because men love crazy women.  But I flaked out again.

THE HANDSHAKE

This I’m none too proud of.  We were set up by a mutual friend, which I usually decline, but I’d just went on a terrible date, and I felt the need to shake it off.  He was really cute, with a killer smile and great blue eyes.  Much to my surprise, the date was really fun!  We drank, and played pool (which I suck at), and laughed a lot.  As far as dates go, I considered this a real success for me.  Then, at the end of the date, I shook his hand goodbye.  I honestly I have no idea why I did that.  Apparently, I’m more socially retarded than I even thought.

As soon as walked into my apartment, I said aloud, “a handshake, Lori, really?”  And we never went out again.

THAT TIME I THOUGHT I WAS CATFISHED

This was almost sitcom worthy.  And I actually didn’t fuck up the date.  What happened was I met this really cute guy off an online dating app.  I’m pretty straight forward on those.  I like to have a little back and forth, to make sure they know the difference between “their, there, and they’re,” and once that’s established, I want to meet and see if you’re a crazy person.  Actually, a part of me hopes you’re a crazy person so I can get a bit out of it.  See?  There I go again putting comedy before love.

Anyway, we planned to meet at a cafe in the city.  I was running late, so I texted him to let him know I’d be there soon, and he said he was there.  I get there, and the guy from the pictures is not there.  I texted him again, and he said he was still there.  My alleged date was very good looking, and I can assure you, no one in that cafe looked anything like him.  It then occurred to me that I was being catfished.  I examined the patrons, and there was this creepy guy in the corner, on a lap top, smirking a little bit.

“This motherfucker is catfishing me,” I thought, and I was just about ready to smack his coffee out of his hand when my date texted me the address and I realized we were at two different cafes of the same name.  The date went fine, afterwards.  But honestly, the catfishing story would have made a better bit.

ALL THE TIMES I NEVER BROKE UP

A couple years ago, I briefly dated this really sweet guy I met off of Tinder.  I’m very lucky, in the sense where I’ve met really cool people off some of these apps.  It didn’t work out, for the reasons that are life… or the reasons that I’m a werido.  In some of our post break up hook ups, he told me I looked more comfortable on stage than I ever was with him (he’d some to see me live a few times), which is both tragic and hilarious.  Then, he also said I was so weird and socially awkward when I said goodbye, he thought it was over between us so many times.  He said he I was hard to figure out, then he stop trying to figure me and just resigned to the fact that I was weird.  Yay, me.

IF YOU HATE DATING DON’T GO ON A DATE ON ACID

Well, this one is probably going to get me in trouble.  The second time I did LSD, I did it alone, in my apartment, and it was a really great time.  BUT, I forgot that I had planned a dinner date with this guy I met at a show.  I figured, the drug would wane, and I’d be fine for the date.

While it had been several hours since I dropped the drug, the effects still lingered.  I met him at a restaurant in Astoria, and I was famished because I hadn’t eaten much because acid doesn’t make you hungry.  This guy was probably 40 years old.  I know, I know.  That’s about a 15 year age difference, but I’m usually into guys a bit older.  Anyway, if you’ve ever done acid, you know that any sort of lines dance on their own, and lines on your face are no different.  Actually, faces in general are pretty trippy.  So, I’m looking at his face (he also had great blue eyes), and I saw his face change ages.  I saw what he looked like from 20 years old to 60 years old, he aged back and forth several times during our hour or so date.

He did most the talking.  The date was hell for me, and I can’t imagine it was good for him either, since I was hugging myself most of the time, and at some point I nearly jumped out of my chair for no apparent reason.  That being said, he did hit me up again (because they love the crazies), but we never did go out again.

I’M NOT MAD AT YOU

I briefly dated this guy who always thought I was mad at him because I’m very short in my text messages, and I use grammar.  This drove him nuts.  He’d call me, “are you mad at me?  Why do you never call me?”  Um… what?  I only call my parents once or twice a month, and I love them.  I really have no reason to call you, unless you want to hear my pitch for this screenplay I’m working on.  I don’t want you to call me and tell me about your boring day.  And I don’t want to call you and tell you about my boring day.  If I witnessed someone fall down an up escalator, I will call.  Because that shit is hilarious.  Other wise, expect me not to respond.  No news is good news.  I’m very busy.  He told me I was horrible at dating and I agreed.