Mike "The Bad Situation"

Even if you’ve never watched an episode of the Jersey Shore, like me, you have certainly heard the name Mike “The Situation”.  Well, allow me to introduce you to Mike “The Bad Situation”.  This idiot wins the award for the worst date I’ve been on in…well, probably my life thus far.  And to make it worse this is the guy I “rescheduled” my date with S.F. Clinger for.  Stupid is as stupid does.

First of all Mike is one of those guys who seem to think texting is an acceptable way to have a conversation.  For god sake stop sending me 15 texts in a 5min span only for the last one to be “Hello?!?!?” because I haven’t been able to read and respond as quickly as you’d like.  News flash, I have a life and I’m not waiting on baited breath for my phone to chime with a text from you.  If you want an immediate response or you have a lot to say pick up the damn phone and call me!  I don’t understand how some people seem to be lacking the common sense that in some cases a phone call is required.

Here are a couple of examples when a text is completely acceptable:

1)      Saying Good Morning/Good Night/Sweet Dreams/Have a great day…or something along those lines

2)      Double checking on a time, place, address, etc

3)      Saying you’re running late or asking “where are you”

4)      “Do you want to grab a drink?”…always 100% acceptable

And here are a few unacceptable times:

1)      To have a conversation/ fight

2)      To break-up

3)      “How are you?”

4)      To plan a first date/talk with someone you haven’t met

Now, Mike is like a little text slut.  He just wrote text after text and we’ll get into the pictures he sent later…yes, there were pictures.  Finally, he decides to call me and I immediately wished he stuck to texts.  Never satisfied.  Allow me to give you a taste of the conversation which found me cringing and cursing my hometown…imagine the thickest NY accent you possibly can…worse than Ms. Marissa Tomei in My Cousin Vinny…

Mike: So, uh, do you like the Jersey Shaw (shore)

Me: Well, I go once in a while, its not really my scene.

Mike: Oh so, uh, are you like a Jersey Shaw girl.

Me: No, not really…like I said, I’ll go down a few times during the summer but that’s about it.

Mike: Oh, well ya know, if we like hit it awf (off) I could uh take you down to Belmah (Belmar) and show you my shaw house (Yes, this guy is 33 and rents a house in Belmar with his friends...very mature)

Me: Oh ok.

Why I didn’t just cancel the date then is beyond me.  Perhaps it was that my frustration with the traffic I was sitting in was far greater than the aggravation this conversation was causing me but this showed poor judgment on my part.  If the sound of his voice was causing my ears to bleed over the phone then how the fuck was I supposed to sit and have drinks with him. 

Being born and raised in NY I have come to respect and tolerate everything.  You’re exposed to so much here I find I rarely (I said rarely because I am human and it happens) judge people because I’ve more or less seen it all at this point, nothing really shocks me.  There is one thing for as long as I can remember that I judge openly and cannot shake which may come as a surprise…the NY accent.  Whoever thought putting w’s where they don’t belong and replacing r’s with h’s must have been drunk, high or trying to play some really cruel joke because we now have an entire 5 boroughs of people who sound like uneducated idiots…job well done asshole.  

So, given how strongly I feel about the accent…and I will admit I have a slight one which will surface from time to time like disgusting word vomit…you can imagine how hard it was to sit through this date.

Finally I meet up with Mike at a local bar.  We sit down, order beers and before the bartender even sets them down Mike says “So, uh, I don’t have ADD or anythin' but I kinda get real bored if I stay in one place, I just cant really do it you know…I really like to move around…so maybe in like 40min or so we can go somewhere else.”  Michael, sweetie, first of all…you just defined ADD…not medically perhaps but socially…yeah, you’ve hit the nail on the head.  Second of all, its 9pm on a Thursday and we’re not in the city…where exactly do you propose we go in 40min???

The next thing I know he’s saying hello to buddies of his from his shore house.  I was mortified…this guy is 33 years old…what the fuck is he doing?!  Clearly age does nothing for a man’s maturity.  I buried my face in my beer hoping the idiocy would end quickly…but was quickly reminded that wasn’t going to happen until this date ended.

When he finally stops putting on his little show we get back to talking and he tells me about his job.  He’s a history teacher for high school students.  He just kept bitching and complaining about how awful his students were, how they are completely unmotivated and won’t go anywhere in life.  I wanted to say, well listen to how you speak, what kind of example they have to follow?!?

So, we finally finish our beers and Mike wants to leave.  He keeps trying to get me to go somewhere else but I mutter something about being tired and wanting to go home.  I had mentioned to him during our god awful conversation about the new car I just got (which I am completely in love with!) and he was begging me to let him see it.  Fine, no harm, no foul. 

We walk to my car and he gets in!!  I wanted to tell him to get the fuck out but decided to be cool and hope this didn’t last long.  Of course I was wrong.  He sat there trying to continue on the conversation.  He had grabbed my hand and before I was able to react he started kissing it!!!  Excuse me skeeze ball but your lips do not belong within a 10ft radius of me.  Now, I desperately needed purell and was contemplating how rude it would be to bath my hand in it with him still sitting there. 

Now he starts rambling on about massages or something and offers to show me his skills.  Meanwhile I’m thinking the most impressive skill I’d like to see him display would be how quickly he can get out of my car.  But still, against my better judgment I figure fuck it, let him rub my shoulders for a few minutes because 1. Getting through this date has sufficiently stressed me out and I wouldn’t mind a neck rub and 2. At this point I’m desperate for an excuse not to look at him.

WHAT A MISTAKE!!!  All of a sudden I feel this wetness on my shoulders and my skin begins to crawl.  This fucking creep was actually kissing my shoulders!!!!!  Are you KIDDING ME?!?  Well, enough was enough and I quickly kicked him out of my car.  Buh-bye, god speed, lose my number, thanks.

The Juicy Details:  Clearly getting kicked out of my car wasn’t enough for this guy.  He called me Friday night at 10pm…don’t you have a life??...then texted me on Saturday and a few other times during that week.  Somewhere in the span of this he also sent me a picture message or two of him in his boxer briefs…nothing else...you can imagine the horror!!!  First, someone should introduce this guy to a razor or an esthetician fast.  Any girl he dates should carry around a lint roller because I'm positive he must shed.  Second, EW!  Finally, I sent a well worded text to hopefully end this once and for all.  People always talk about all the creeps on the internet…Congratulations Mike, your one of them.