“Doctor by day, sexy Jon Snow by night.”
That was the description that date #1 had on his Tinder profile.
Doctor? Cool, must be smart. Sexy Jon Snow? Even better! Who doesn’t love an illegitimate Stark?
I figured that because this was my first date of The Challenge, it would be a great idea to go out for drinks with a fellow GoT fan. I mean, even if we don’t hit it out of the park at least we’ll have lots to talk about, right?
The date started pleasantly enough. I arrived at small bar in Kips Bay promptly at 5pm. Before entering, I took a ceremonious deep breath and said to myself, “Let’s do this!” – then walked inside like the diva that I am.
Skipping forward a beat, Snow walked through the door several minutes later, but alas, it was not love at first sight. From the moment I saw him, I knew our relationship wouldn’t last longer than one date. But I had a few hours to kill before I met up with my Babeland girls, and he seemed nice enough. Boy, did I call that wrong. He was not a nice guy. He was, what my mom would call – after one or two margaritas – “a little shit.”
After learning about his job (he’s a psychiatrist), his family and glossing over a bevy of other first-meet questions, the conversation began to dwindle. That’s when he asked me about my tattoos, piercings and my recently-placed birth control implant (I still had the bandage over my arm, and a nasty bruise to go with it).
Now, while I’m a big fan of birth control, it’s not really a topic that I like to bring up on first-dates – mainly because it preludes to sex and I’ve found that guys can be a bit presumptuous. I mean, why can’t a first date just be about getting to know each other?! That said, he was a doctor, so the topic should be pretty safe. And it was. At first.
After continued conversation, we hit another lull – and that’s when he asked The Question:
So, I see that you have lots of piercings and tattoos… so you’re not afraid of needles…?
Umm… yeah. Sure, needles are cool. I guess. [Insert questioning look from me, here.]
So you you have a high tolerance for pain?
Well, I mean, I don’t think I’d withstand torture very well, but shots and things like that don’t bother me. (I think it’s important to note here, that I have a few piercings, but nothing crazy or out there. Just a nose stud and some ear piercings, as well as a few discreet tattoos.)
So, like… Does your tolerance for pain extend into the bedroom?
Wait. WHAT???? Did he seriously ask me that?
After a long pause Snow spoke up.
I’m sorry, was that inappropriate?
Seriously? Was that a question? HELL YES!
Yes, that was forward. That was really forward… I mean, just so you know, that was a very inappropriate question.
There. I said my peace. While I could have (and should have) bounced right then and there, I still had 2 hours until I met up with my fellow Babes. What’s a girl to do? So I order another, stronger, drink.
To make a long story short, the rest of the date was relatively boring. I learned that we were very different people and had very different opinions. In fact, at one point, I escaped to the bathroom to text the group about my fiasco of a date, to which they said “bail now and come over early.” So I did just that. But not before Snow made one more statement: I can’t tell if I hate you, or if I love you.
GET OUT. NOW.
So with that, I bid the guy farewell, told him I hope to never see him again, and walked out the door like the boss betch I am.
But honestly though, no wonder the dude’s still single!
Love you betches!