Dancing Without the Stars

Story Sent in by Christie:

After a week or so of talking to Trey over a dating site, Trey asked me if I wanted to meet up in person. I did, and he suggested going dancing for a first date.

I wrote back, "Maybe something like dinner, to start." I'm not the best dancer, I'm not overly into it, and despite how benign I was sure his intentions were, I wasn't too into the idea of being clasped in an embrace with a guy so soon into meeting him. Call me old fashioned. I just wanted to do something else.

"Sure thing," he wrote back, and I considered the matter settled.

When we met up, he gave me a big hug and I asked him, "What are we doing tonight?"

"We're dancing!" he announced with a grin.

I said, "Would you be really disappointed if we waited a bit on dancing? How about dinner or a walk or maybe going to see a show?"

"Ugh!" he shouted, way louder than he needed to, "Fine! We can do not-dancing. What do you want to do?"

"Uh… dinner?"

"Fine."

We went to a nearby bar and grill, and not too long after sitting down, he said, "So after dinner, we dance. That's the deal."

"I don't want to go dancing. I'm sorry. Maybe next time."

"Well, what if I don't want to have dinner? You're forcing me to do that, right? How is that fair?"

"I'm not forcing you to do anything. I suggested doing dinner instead of dancing. Instead of. Not precursor to. I'm not too into dancing. I think I mentioned that."

"Ugh!" he said again.

The waiter took our drink orders. I asked for an iced tea. Trey ordered a Long Island iced tea.

After the waiter left, Trey leaned in and said, "It's going to be one of those nights. I can tell."

Remaining polite, I asked him about himself, and he would not shut up. He told me not only his entire life story, but the life story of each of his exes and of his siblings. I knew more about this guy by dinner's end than I knew about myself.

Dinner came to a close, and he asked, "So, have you changed your mind, yet? You know, about dancing?"

"No."

"Jesus Christ!" he spat, and stood up, then sat down, then stood up again, then sat down once more. "I guess you expect me to pay for this, don't you?"

"That would be nice," I said, "But you don't have to if–"

"No, I expected as much," he said, then stood up, took out enough cash to cover the check, then ran, not walked, out of the restaurant.

Not long after I arrived home, he sent me three texts:

"Guess where I am????"

"I'm out dancing!!!!! So much fun!!!!!"

"Can you give me a ride to this other girl's place?????"

Ah, romance.