Adventures in Dating: The Drunk of the Irish

Being a single lady in my 30's, I've had some interesting dates in my time.  I don't think it's going that far out on a limb to say that online dating has probably made some of those dates more interesting than others. I'm reminded of a man that I met on the internet...let's call him "Patrick".

From what I read on his dating profile (and from what I may or may not have discovered from googling his name), Patrick sounded amazing. He worked for a large investment firm in Boston. He played semi-pro hockey in his spare time. He was from Ireland, meaning that he had an adorable accent. He was a sports fan who loved live music. A-pluses across the board. We made plans to watch a Pats game at a sports bar on a Sunday. On Saturday afternoon, he called and said, “I really can’t wait to meet you. We can still keep our plans for tomorrow, but my plans fell through for tonight. Would you like to grab dinner?” How could a girl say no to that?

I arrived at the restaurant before Patrick and stood in the entryway to wait. A few minutes later, I received a text from him that said, “pulling in now” and I knew that he would probably be the one of the next few people to walk in. An attractive male redhead came through the door. I smiled. He smiled. I said “hi.” He said "hi". Aaaaaaaaand then, he walked right by me and went into the restaurant. I stood there for a few seconds trying to figure out what had happened. Then, the redhead came out again. He said, “Are you waiting for someone?” in an Irish brogue. And I said, “Yes. Patrick?” And he answered, “Wow, you’re actually hot. I didn’t expect you to be hot.” I wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, so I just smiled and said, “uh thank you [question mark]”.

As we walked up to the hostess stand, we heard a male voice yell, “Hey Patrick!” We turned to see a taller man approaching us with a blonde woman. Patrick shook the man's hand and then stepped away with him, leaving me alone with the woman. I made small talk with her, having no idea who these people were. Patrick and the man came back with beers for the four of us. I noticed that Patrick’s eyes weren’t really focusing when he talked to me, but I thought maybe he has some kind of far sightedness and he didn't want to wear his glasses for our date. Although the woman that I was speaking with was very nice, I sensed some awkwardness between the two men, but thought maybe they just didn't know each other that well. Then, the hostess came over to us and asked, “Would you like me to change your table to a table for four?” Before the woman and I had a chance to answer, Patrick and the other man shouted, “NO!” very loudly and forcefully. The hostess, the woman and I looked at the men strangely and the hostess paused for a beat before she said to the other couple, “Ok, then your table is ready.” The man and the woman walked toward the dining room.

I asked Patrick, who was beginning to sway back and forth, “Why didn’t you want to sit with your friend? I wouldn’t have minded.” Patrick replied, “That wasn’t my friend. Up until three months ago, that was my brother-in-law.” So, yes, unbeknownst to me, Patrick had just filed for divorce three months prior. And of all the people that we could have run into on our date... Now, I understood the awkwardness. Added to this, I realized that part of B-i-L's discomfort was stemming from the fact that Patrick was highly, HIGHLY intoxicated.

See, I hadn’t noticed that during my conversation with B-i-L's date, Patrick had finished two beers in the time that I had taken two sips. And in replaying the night up to that point, I'm sure that those weren't his first two.  While we waited for a table, I noticed that Patrick was leaning into the woman next to him, much to the chagrin of that woman’s husband sitting on the other side.  I pulled Patrick’s arm back to warn him to give her a little space. He turned to me and yelled at the top of his lungs, “I can’t believe how hot you are.” and proceeded to shove his tongue down my throat. I wasn’t really sure how to handle the situation. Not being a strong advocate for public displays of affection in the first place, here I was with a drunk-ass almost-stranger who had just announced to the bar how “hot” he thought I was (possibly through his beer goggles) before attempting to make out with me like a fourteen year old wallflower and his Selena Gomez poster. I managed to extricate myself from Patrick and before I could tell him that he probably didn’t need any more beer, he went back up to the bar. After a whispered conversation between Patrick and the bartender that I couldn’t quite hear, Patrick came over to me and said, “Apparently, they are not going to serve me any more at this establishment tonight”. 

The next few minutes are a bit of blur. I think there was wrestling involved, although I'm not sure if it was started by me trying to wrestle away Patrick's car keys or him trying to Pepe Le Pew me. He managed to slur directions at me as I drove him home, full of the terror that he was going to puke in my car, and I never spoke to him again. I just hope he remembered where put his truck.