Life and the trials and tribulations of dating over 40.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Date Eleven: Lord Farquar

What a liar.  Remember Lord Farquar from Shrek?  He bragged about his money and suffered from Napolean Syndrome.  This one was just like that.  One his profile he said he was 5'7".  Not a tall man, but compared to my 5'3" and a half, that's perfectly fine.  We spoke on the phone a couple of times, but after Fire Slave Dave I decided there would be no more bonding done via phone or email.  I want to meet and move on.  It's awkward to have a nice friendship on the phone and then have them be weird in person.  I want to see them and then get the hell out if they aren't what they claim to be.  At least this one had all his teeth.

We decide to meet at a local bar.  Figuring him to be taller than me, I wore shoes with a bit of a heel.  I walked into the bar.  When he spotted me, he hopped off the bar stool and hit me just about under my chin.  

"So..."  I say, "You're a liar."  
"No!  Why would you say that?"  He stammers.
"If I can bust you on such an obvious lie as your height, what else would you lie about that I might not be able to bust you on so easily?"

His jaw moves, but no sound comes out.  I throw my hands up in disgust and leave yet another bad date.  The bartender is laughing hysterically and I hear her cackling as I make my exit.

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