Secret Update: Dating Edition

[From my buddy Nadine, who gave her kind permission to allow me to print what started as an email. She is currently living in Jakarta. I believe that's somewhere east of Baton Rouge.]

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I went on what may have been the most ridiculous first date ever. This very handsome guy asked me out on Monday when I was on my way to the gym, looking all crappy in my gym clothes. He's a French soccer player born in Cameroon, playing for Indonesia's team. He said something like it was love at first sight (obviously just for him) and that he haaaaad to talk to me, and that he never chases after girls in malls but something about me made him have to talk to me. He was very good looking, and I figured that if he wants to buy me dinner so badly, then who am I to stand in the way of his happiness? Plus, if he thinks I'm hot when I'm looking my absolute worst, he should be really impressed when I make the effort to put on pants and comb my hair.

We were set to have dinner at 7. He called me right before to tell me he was on his way and might be late because of traffic. I said that was fine, because I was stuck in traffic too. I got there at 7:05. He got there just after 8. I spent an hour reading the menu, texting people, and drinking fruit tea. At least the tea was good. I would have left, but he kept calling me every ten minutes to tell me he was on his way. When he finally got there, he had a friend with him. He was wearing the most bling I've ever seen in real life. I counted three giant diamond earrings, two giant diamond crosses, and one of those really gaudy watches with the diamonds all over the face.

He apologized for the friend, saying that something came up at the last minute and the friend had to come. He said he was reeeally sorry and knows I was expecting dinner to be just the two of us. I felt really bad for the friend, standing right there as this apology was taking place. At first I tried to make conversation with the friend so he wouldn't feel bad, but he turned to Maxwell for answers to every question, so I started thinking that maybe he didn't speak English. Maxwell was born in Cameroon and moved to France when he was ten years old. Maxwell is a very good soccer player, and he's really famous in Europe. Maxwell is buying a house in Florida, and he already has houses in Jakarta and France. Maxwell is going on vacation to France next week, then to the Dominican Republic, then to Florida to sign the papers for his new house and stay there until he has to work again. Maxwell got an offer to play for LA Galaxy, but he turned it down because they asked him to make his own travel arrangements to Los Angeles, and someone so famous in Europe should not have to do that. I learned a lot about Maxwell, but after two hours, he didn't ask me a single question about myself, aside from whether or not I'm in Jakarta alone. He doesn't know why I'm living in Jakarta, what my job is, nothing.

The first hour was spent talking about himself. The second hour was his declaration of love and intention to make me his woman. Keep in mind, I'd met him approximately 26 hours before this. He says he wishes I weren't going to Bangladesh this week, because he wants to take me to France with him. Trying to change the subject away from me, I ask him if he has any family in France. He says he has two kids from his ex-wife, and he hasn't seen them in five months since he moved to Jakarta. He's picking them up in France taking them on vacation with him to the Dominican Republic because they keep complaining that they never see their dad. Lovely.

He tells me he'll be back in Jakarta sometime in February, and that he'd really like for me to be "more than his girlfriend", whatever that means, and not see other people in the meantime. I tell him the best I can do is to say that maybe we can possibly be friends when he returns, but I'm not really interested in anything more, which was a lie because I'm not really interested in being friends either. He was very unhappy, and then started grilling me about why I didn't answer a stupid text he sent me the night before asking me how the gym was and telling me I'm an angel. The grilling went on for about fifteen minutes, and then he changed the subject to future texts and calls, saying that he really wants to keep in touch with me and can he continue to call me? I said no and held out for about 20 minutes, until finally I said something like, "Fine, you can call if you really want to," thinking that I just won't pick up. He was really unhappy when I said I didn't want to be anything more than friends, and even less happy when I said something like, "Listen, if you were an American, I would have said you were a loser and left an hour ago. I'm cutting you some slack because you're French and I don't know your customs. I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt that what you're saying isn't this bizarre where you come from and I'm saying there's a possibility of us being friends at some point, which I think is more than generous." His English isn't that good, so I had to rephrase that in simpler, more polite terms. I also mentioned that the conversation is awkward enough for a first date, but even more awkward considering that there's a third person in the table who is probably feeling even more uncomfortably than I am. At this point, his friend - who had his head in his hands for about 30 minutes - finally looked up and nodded frantically.

So that was the first date I've had in Jakarta. Do you think he's insane, or does he just have a really bizarre idea of what women want to hear?

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Inspired by this, I’m going to rip it off--er, solicit your input. Got a bad date story or two to share? I've got nothing to compare to THIS, but certainly an anecdote or two.

Drop me an email if you'd like to share.