As we left off yesterday, I found myself chatting up a dude in the mall who wasn’t really my type of hype.  To recap: neck tattoo, tight Armani Exchange threads, Drake ringtone= the three strikes that SHOULD have put him out. But no, silly little me keeps on going.

Now, this fella is a chef at a soup kitchen; he got the job through the as-seen-on-TV trade school he attends. Not usually along the lines of the men I usually date in terms of academic background, but I wasn’t tripping about that. What was…special, however, was when he said that his long term goal was to be a “home chef”. “Oh, like a private chef for someone well off?” “No, like Rachael Ray and some of the chefs on the Food Network. They shoot them at their house. Like a document.”

Run that back, please.

“Like, you know. A document, that’s how they film them.”

What’s worse: that he was trying to say “documentary” and called it a “document”? or that he thinks cooking shows are really taped in someone’s house? Or the “Find Your Love” ringtone? Le sigh.

I wasn’t tripping off the as-seen-on-tv certificate program, but this dude wasn’t quite functioning at grade level. In fact, I peeped a few other misused words and awkward grammatical erros that just didn’t fit a 30 year old man who would be hanging with Young Toldja.

I mentioned that I was hungry and that I needed to go grab dinner and he suggests one of my favorite local restauraunts. Huh, that was kind of a surprise…so was my agreeance to go. Perhaps he was just a little nervous, right? (Document.) I decided to give a brother a chance.

We both needed to stop at the grocery store in the mall first before we ate. I enjoyed the fact that two girls in the Pathmark saw him and said “Daaaaamn.” He was a very good-looking guy. I wondered again “Why can’t he find a woman?” It started getting clearer. Now, my greatest pet peeve in life (aside from Flo Rida) is people who can’t use the self-checkout. He picked up some milk that had a coupon attached and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out how to remove it, scan it and put it in the coupon slot.  I was displeased.

He pulled out an EBT card to buy his groceries. Strangely enough, I knew he was going to do this. It’s a recession, lots of people are getting benefits. Hell, if I qualified for food stamps, I would be first in the line. Eating beaucoup lobster and shrimp off all the tax money I pay to NYC any darn way. But, the EBT card still got filed in the “something aint right” pile.  He’d mentioned earlier that he lived with an aunt and I…yeah. 30, no kids, essentially living at home and getting EBT benefits. Something just ain’t right.

We walk the few blocks toward the restauraunt and he doesn’t offer to carry my bags, which are heavy. And remember: I have a cane. He mentions that he had “just ate”, but was happy to chill with me during my meal. Translation: “I’m not paying for your food”…which was more than fine with me. At this point, I am all the way turned off and continuing simply for the sake of the story.

During our agonizingly long 45 minute meal, he manages to ask me if I really thought people were born gay (“If they are, that means that God is not perfect…isn’t God perfect?”- asked like a 5 year old child speaking to his mother),  if God was real and if so, how were we supposed to believe in something we hadn’t seen (again with the childlike tone). He also implied that the world might be coming to an end if a good man like him couldn’t find love.

Here is the awesome part: we went on this “date” without exchanging contact information. So when I was done eating and had paid for my food, I shook his hand, wished him well and kept it moving. He looked surprised, but I’m sure he’ll just chalk it up to those pesky days ending.

Is there a moral to this story? Not necessarily. There very well could be a Jersey Shore-attired emo dude with a  Drake ringtone who could somehow be super awesome for me. However, the 3 or 4 times that I have stepped so far outside of what I find to be attractive or appealing…I’ve fared about this well. I like what I like and I know what I gel well with: whip smart guys who are well-read and use words correctly and are way too cool to ever have Aubrey on the ringtone. And you know what? That’s not a bad thing. While I’m not saying I won’t ‘give a brother a chance’ anymore…I’ve been reminded that there is a line between stepping outside of one’s comfort zone and just wasting time. Document that.

PS: To be fair, this STILL does not top the worst date I ever had.

PPS: If you haven’t already, consider The Beautiful Struggler Campaign for Giving. No, for serious.