.JPG "ice cream")
Ice Cream. You motherfucker.
When am I going to meet a guy I like? Online dating is stupid.
Oh okay, I'll just login and check my messages...Ooh a Jew!
I responded to the Beverly Hills Jew simply out of loneliness. I was pretty sure he was too short, and I hate when guys post a picture of their expensive car. You're SO cool. This guy was obviously rich. We messaged a little, and he invited me out on a Friday night to a rooftop bar in Beverly Hills. Money makes me slightly uncomfortable, so I was very nervous as I approached the valet. The elevator door opened and yup, he's 5'6" not 5'9". Why do guys always go with 5'9"? He instantly told me the bar was "too crowded" and asked if I would mind if we went somewhere else...
Five blocks later we ended up at a boutique hotel, in a bar area completely ALONE. I ordered a glass of wine, and I already knew it's the only drink I'd be having. He used the Valley Girl filler "like" more than I do. We have nothing in common, and he seems a little bit too polished and dare I say, flamboyant? He ordered a moscow mule. I sat with my legs crossed so far away from him, and he leaned in to take a sip of his drink...
...through the straw
...with his pinky up.
I know what's happening here. His Jewish Mother is yearning for some Jewish Babies. And he doesn't know how to tell her...He's gay. I started implementing my favorite "get rid of a guy" tactic: disagreeing with EVERYTHING he said. One drink and we were heading back to the valet, where I assumed we both parked at the super fancy hotel he invited me to. But no. About a block away from the hotel, he stops and points at his car parked on the street and says, "Well, this is me." Seriously? Mr. Moneybags wouldn't shell out $8 to valet his luxury car?
Needless to say he didn't offer to walk me back or pay for my valet. Go home to your mommy.
When am I going to meet a guy I like? Online dating is stupid.
Oh okay, I'll just login and check my messages...Ooh a Jew!
Oh okay, I'll just login and check my messages...Ooh a Jew!
I responded to the Beverly Hills Jew simply out of loneliness. I was pretty sure he was too short, and I hate when guys post a picture of their expensive car. You're SO cool. This guy was obviously rich. We messaged a little, and he invited me out on a Friday night to a rooftop bar in Beverly Hills. Money makes me slightly uncomfortable, so I was very nervous as I approached the valet. The elevator door opened and yup, he's 5'6" not 5'9". Why do guys always go with 5'9"? He instantly told me the bar was "too crowded" and asked if I would mind if we went somewhere else...
Five blocks later we ended up at a boutique hotel, in a bar area completely ALONE. I ordered a glass of wine, and I already knew it's the only drink I'd be having. He used the Valley Girl filler "like" more than I do. We have nothing in common, and he seems a little bit too polished and dare I say, flamboyant? He ordered a moscow mule. I sat with my legs crossed so far away from him, and he leaned in to take a sip of his drink...
...through the straw
...with his pinky up.
I know what's happening here. His Jewish Mother is yearning for some Jewish Babies. And he doesn't know how to tell her...He's gay. I started implementing my favorite "get rid of a guy" tactic: disagreeing with EVERYTHING he said. One drink and we were heading back to the valet, where I assumed we both parked at the super fancy hotel he invited me to. But no. About a block away from the hotel, he stops and points at his car parked on the street and says, "Well, this is me." Seriously? Mr. Moneybags wouldn't shell out $8 to valet his luxury car?
Needless to say he didn't offer to walk me back or pay for my valet. Go home to your mommy.
I know what's happening here. His Jewish Mother is yearning for some Jewish Babies. And he doesn't know how to tell her...He's gay. I started implementing my favorite "get rid of a guy" tactic: disagreeing with EVERYTHING he said. One drink and we were heading back to the valet, where I assumed we both parked at the super fancy hotel he invited me to. But no. About a block away from the hotel, he stops and points at his car parked on the street and says, "Well, this is me." Seriously? Mr. Moneybags wouldn't shell out $8 to valet his luxury car?
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