With my mouth still gaping wide in anticipation of chomping down on a tender morsel of food I stop dead in my tracks. I slowly put the lettuce wrap back down on the plate and just sit there. Boiling. Knowing that if I even think about opening my mouth again that a stream of obscenities are going to flow loudly enough to cause a scene in the restaurant and have everyone gawking at the two of us. I continue to sit there and stew until the waitress comes over and asks if everything is OK with the food. I tell her that I need a to-go box.
Bryce immediately senses the error of his ways but it’s too late. He apologizes, tells me not to worry about it and eat. I say nothing. He continues to plead. I continue to say nothing. He then realizes that being nice is not working in his favor so he decides that another approach would be best. He then says “I can’t believe I’m going to pay for that meal and you’re not even going to eat it” becomes irritated and stops talking to me as well. For a normal person this would be the time to call the waitress over, get another to-go box for his meal and wrap up this “special” evening. Not Bryce, noooooo. We continue to sit there in complete silence while he finishes his salad, fried apples, French fries and an ENTIRE SLAB OF RIBS. Guess he's not on the same "healthy eating" plan as he expects me to be on.
Finally he's finished eating and the ordeal is over, he pays the bill and we drive back to his house. Still not a word has been uttered between us. When we pull into the drive way he turns off the car and heads for his house, I calmly ask him for my keys. He actually looks over at me and says “You’re not going to stay?”
This is a joke right? I’m being punk’d. Where’s the cameras? I wait for a few seconds, look around, there sadly is no sign of Ashton Kutcher so I say to him “no, I’m not staying” I take my keys and drive away.
As far as I’m concerned, we’re done. I don’t call him. I don’t have any intention of ever speaking to him again. A few weeks roll by and I’m glad that he hasn’t called me either. Until, he does. I see the dreaded name on my phone and for some reason I debate whether or not to answer it. I don’t. He leaves me a voicemail. Not apologizing, from the lack of slurring it’s clearly not a drunk dial, just a simple message asking me to call him back. At this point I just assume that I must have left something at his house and he’s just wanting to make sure I get it back so I call. He picks up the phone and says to me “I can’t believe you’re still mad at me.” What? Clearly his memory isn’t as sharp as mine. He then asks me if I want to come over. I politely decline, to which he genuinely seems shocked by and asks "why not?". I’m sorry, did you actually think that after a date of that caliber of HORRIBLENESS that I would simply overlook not only that date but every single jackass thing that you had done leading up to that date? I tell him I’m done. I’m not interested in a relationship with him. I guess he’s insulted or maybe embarrassed by this because he hangs up on me and I am just happy that I no longer have to see his face.
