One Hit Wonder

Yesterday was quite interesting. I had fun Happy Hour plans made with someone I was intrigued to catch up with. This was someone I had had a slight romantic interest in before I left for Europe and while I had seen him since coming back, we had not really had any one-on-one time to catch up and figure out where we now fit into each other's lives... if at all.

So we had a little soiree built for two starting at 5PM, and a very fun place that I had picked. To be honest, after my last time seeing this guy I was slightly more excited about the fun happy hour plan than listening to him talk about himself. But everyone has their moments of being less cool than they really are, so I was open to give him a second chance.

When he needed to push it back to 5:30PM, I was not thrilled but flexible. When he needed to push back to 5:45PM I was annoyed. When we finally met up after 6PM, and the place was too packed to stay, I was less than estatic. It was up to this guy to be the star of happy hour, and I just wasn't sure he had that ability.

You are probably wondering why I am even bothering to hang out with someone that I think is less than par. And the answer is this: at some point there was potential. And while I had not seen said potential since my arrival back to the States (I had only seen him once, and I thought maybe he was having an off-day) I figure a second chance is not such a bad thing.

Well, dear Paige, guess again.

This was one Happy Hour that was not so happy. The conversation was dry. He didn't have anything interesting to say that wasn't about him and his seemingly important life. He wanted the discussion to circle around dating -- who I was dating, who he was dating, and whether or not we would date each other. He thought being obnoxious was the way to go, vs. being kind and polite and having fun together. I wanted a real conversation with a real person. He wanted a conversation with someone who thought he was cool. Unfortunately, I was not that person.

As we wondering back to the West Village in search of a better place than we had been previously, it dawned on me that I really did not like him. I didn't feel good around him. I didn't think he was special. And there were 10,000 things I had rather be doing than floating around downtown Manhattan with him. Sure, there was a day when we got along fabulously and it seemed we were quite smitten with each other, but that day had long past. And now, today, some random Friday in June, I had had enough of his ego, I had had enough of his khaki pants, and I had had enough of thinking there was more to him than there really was.

So when he wanted to know whether we were going to date this summer, the answer was something like this... N-O. I had much rather leave the door open for something new and something different, than keep waiting for him to walk through the door with something more. His one tune has more than been played out, and it was time to put that 'single' in the bin bound for goodwill.