Worst. Date. Ever.

As promised, my best worst date story. I've had bad dates before, usually due to lack of planning or my date's...overenthusiasm...for me, but this one... well, you'll see.

So once upon a time, I met a guy at FHE. I know, shocking, right? He had these amazing big brown eyes (which I totally have a thing for, by the way) and the rest of him was pretty easy on the eyes, too. So I figured I'd get to know him.

Cut to a couple hours later. We're at my friend's house playing a game and he mentions to me that he thinks I'm super open and relatable and easy to talk to. Score for me, right? Then the great line: "I could see us being really good friends."

What the? He did not just friendzone me within a couple hours of meeting me. But whatever. I've been a bit short on guyfriends recently, so I didn't mind all that much.

Okay, so before meeting him, my friend had been twisting my arm to get me to do a double date with her, because apparently I need to get out more (what? I get out! Oh, going to the grocery store to refill my freezer with Ben & Jerry's doesn't count? Shoot.) That night, after meeting Mr. Shmoe (yes, I really am calling him that for the rest of this post), she was all up in my face. Askhim, askhim, askhim! she insisted. I expressed reluctance over my apparent friendzoning, but she waved that off, certain that it was just a harmless compliment.

Ha.

So I got around to asking him out. And by "got around" I mean I chickened out three times, simply because I hate asking guys out. It never goes well.

He said yes. Okay, worst bullet dodged. I started to feel a little better about a date.

Then I noticed that whenever we hung out, he was always talking about the most recent hot girl he'd met and how bummed he was that she never called him back, because he'd treat her so well and take such good care of her. Right. I may not be one of his "hot girls," but I was feeling a little underappreciated for someone he claimed to consider as a friend. If I was extremely fortunate, I got a "Hey, how was your day?" before he launched into his latest hot-girl-wooing escapade.

And of course, we girlspacefriends love to hear about how drop-dead gorgeous you think some other girl is. It totally makes us feel awesome.

Obviously, I was starting to be pretty sure he wasn't my type. I don't usually dig the guys who only go for hot girls. But I'd had friends like him before, and some of them turned out to be my very best guyfriends. I could totally live with that. Friend date it was, then.

Cut to the day of the date. I'd arranged for him to come pick me up. We were doing breakfast with my friend and her date because Mr. Shmoe had scheduled some other stuff in his morning and prevented the super awesome hike we were planning on. A blessing in disguise: I only had to spend two hours with him instead of six.

He texts me from his car, expecting me to come out. Lame. But I allowed for the possibility that not every guy is born to be chivalrous and walked out to the car. We had to pick up some extra food for the breakfast, so we went to the store. He insisted on the cheapest of everything, including the bacon that was more fat than meat. Gross.

Now, to his credit, he did offer to pay for the food, but I was already feeling annoyed by his inane chatter (about, surprise surprise, girls) at this point and didn't want to give him the satisfaction. Or my pride just got in the way. One of them. Perhaps it was arrogant of me, but I wanted to show him that real date etiquette requires some politeness, so I *ahem* "generously" covered the expense.

We get to my friend's house and walk in.

Okay, two items of background information: 1) I had dressed up a little. Nice shirt, jeans, full makeup, hair done. Obviously made some effort without being overdressed. 2) My friend is a beautiful girl. When we get there, she was still in jeans and a cooking-grease-friendly T-shirt.

Pretty much the first thing he says: "Wow, _______, you look really pretty this morning!" Yes, Mr. Shmoe, I already know that you find my friend attractive. But you are on a date with me. Please, restrain yourself next time. Or at least throw in a little, "Hey, Lynnae, you look very put-together today" in addition to your compliment of my friend. Even if you hated everything about my outfit, that would be an acceptable truth to express. Even girlspacefriends like to be noticed and/or appreciated.

We made breakfast. The guys cooked, thus earning some brownie points. Mr. Shmoe complained about the fatty bacon, which, if you recall, he picked out. Apparently it would mean extra time at the gym, working on those muscles, which seemed to be his favorite feature about himself (side note: several times, usually when he thinks no one is looking, I have in fact caught him checking his own muscles out, Uncle Rico-style).

In the commotion of everyone piling plates with food, he and I ended up with a couple of minutes just to ourselves, in which he took the opportunity to ask, "Hey Lynnae, can I ask you a question?" Hm. Maybe he's going to make sure I'm cool with being friends. A move that, at this point, I'd actually appreciate, since it would demonstrate that he's aware that I might be a little hurt by his attention to other girls. Such a potentially friendship-healing conversation got delayed, however, by the arrival of my friend and her date, ready to sit, eat, and chat.

Among the topics of conversation was an extended discussion of his date the day before with this beautiful girl he wanted to take to a fancy restaurant, but they got lost and had to settle for Applebees (the horror!) and another compliment-the-beauty-of-my-friend session. Now, I agreed wholeheartedly with everything he said about her. But, dude. We're on a date. You're showering praises on a girl who's on a date with someone else who is still in the room, and your date is sitting on the couch wondering if her camouflage skills are way better than she'd originally thought, because she appears to have been rendered invisible in the "Let's compliment people on their looks" game.

Again, girlspacefriends love being completely ignored when the topic of beautiful girls is brought up.

Then, Mr. Shmoe finally turned his full attention on me for what felt like the first time that whole morning and asked my favorite question of the day: "So Lynnae, are you dating anyone?"

Yes, Mr. Shmoe. I have a boyfriend. But you were so ridiculously good looking that I had to ditch him for the day and take you on this date instead. Yes, I thought that. What I actually said, "I wouldn't have asked you if I were."

He gave me this blank look, like the weight of what I just implied didn't register at all (it probably didn't).

After more stories about his dating life and more complimenting my friend on her looks, (Disclaimer: I did enjoy good conversation... when my friend and her date were talking, not when Mr. Shmoe was. I may be overreacting a little. Forgive me. Being ignored does that to me.) my friend had somewhere important to be, so we left.

Finally, he had the chance to ask me that question from earlier. Ready? Drum roll please.

...

...

Did I know such and such girl who was at my movie night a few nights ago? Because she was gorgeous and he had to find out who she was.

Not kidding. That was his all-important question he'd held onto for over an hour to ask me. Not "Lynnae, you're cool with us being friends, right?" Or even, "You don't have a thing for me, do you? Because that would be awkward." Nope, he skipped right over that and focused instead on my potential ability to set him up with another cookie cutter hot girl. (Not to slight said girl. She was pretty. But he goes for the same girl every time: brown hair, tan skin, tall and shapely, with Mary Kay quality makeup. He definitely has a very narrow type.)

Such a disappointment to learn that I didn't know anything about her (which was the truth: so many people had invited friends to that movie party that I only knew about half of them).

He dropped me off at not my house. Even though I told him it was the brick house with the white garage and the blue SUV in front and POINTED RIGHT AT IT as he drove past. He turned around and still passed it and then tried once again and pulled up in front of my neighbor's housethatlooksnothinglikemine and apparently figured that was good enough. (Seriously? He couldn't focus on me long enough to follow the directions to my house? I'm not that bad of a navigator.) He told me he had fun, and I gave him a noncommittal "Me too" (only because I like my friend and her date was nice to me). Then I walked the extra fifty paces past my neighbor's house to my own front door and hurried inside, eternally grateful that I didn't have to spend another second with him.

It took me a while to process how I felt, because, surprisingly, I didn't want to wallow with Ben & Jerry and cry about a guy who didn't seem to be attracted to me. Instead, I was mad. I was fired up and completely riled. I didn't care that he wasn't attracted to me. I cared that he thought he could act that way in front of me. I cared that I was so low on his list that he didn't bother to pay attention to my feelings. And that totally ticked me off. 

I'm not really an arrogant person. I don't expect everyone I meet to love and adore me. I don't expect to turn every head when I walk into a room. But I do expect to be treated with respect. I may not be every guy's cup of tea, but I'm a rich, creamy, delicious chocolate cake for somebody. I do not deserve to be walked all over. Assumptions about feminine overreaction aside, there are certain standards of respect and thoughtfulness that any two people should maintain in each other's company, especially on a date. Even my most casual of guyfriends who were actively dating and flirting with girls treated me better than Mr. Shmoe did on this date.

I don't hate him. Really, I don't. I recognize that he has good qualities. I wouldn't have considered being his friend if he didn't. If he wants to know what happened, I will certainly explain. But I don't want to be his friend. Not if he's going to treat me the way he did. And, in a weird, twisted way, he actually did me a huge favor. It took him taking me for granted for me to realize that I was taking myself for granted and vastly underestimating my own worth. I cared so much about how badly he treated me simply because I valued myself at a higher price than that.

So, I compiled a list of WhatNotToDos, decided that I was done letting him or anyone else (including myself) make me miserable, and decided that I was going to be exactly as happy as I wanted to be.

And that's how I snapped out of my I-don't-know-what-to-do funk.