One night, this guy messaged me on OK Cupid and asked me out. I had no plans that night, and didn’t feel like sitting at home, so I agreed to get a drink. As usual, I had him meet me in my neighborhood, so it was super convenient.

We sat down and got our drinks. We started talking. I asked him some questions about himself. He was really into soccer. He had a chihuahua (should have been a red flag). I learned a lot. But he asked nothing about me, in return. Instead, he just talked on and on about himself. I could not get a word in edgewise.

What he mostly wanted to rant on about was soccer. Now, the kid I nanny for is obsessed with soccer, so I can talk about it for a little bit. Like, as a first-date conversation, I can hold my own. I offered up my theory that Cristiano Ronaldo was the Derek Jeter of soccer. I mentioned a few team names. And then I was just about done. However, he was not. He continued to talk straight through my first drink. He accompanied me outside for a cigarette and kept talking. At first, I had tried to feign interest, but eventually it was just so unpleasant that I wasn’t even pretending that I was paying attention or interested in what he had to say. He didn’t seem to care. He just kept talking. As soon as I could without being really rude (although I didn’t really care at that point), I said I was tired and went home. I believe it was 9:00.

He texted me afterwards to tell me he had had a great time. I wasn’t going to respond, but then I thought it might be a mitzvah to tell him how unbearable that evening had been. Nicely, obviously.

I told him how offputting it was to sit with someone while they just talked for an hour straight. I told him that his dates might go better if he listened some, too.

At first he was penitent.

“Yeah,” he said, “it’s a nervous habit. I’m kind of aware that I do it.”

I acknowledged that, and empathized, but told him it was still unpleasant. I then said gently that I wasn’t interested in going out again. He got angry.

“What makes you think I’d even want to go out with you again?” he said.

“Well, you texted me.”

“I don’t. I’m the one who’s not interested. You shouldn’t just assume that I want to go out with you again.”

“Ok,” I said, “sorry. Best of luck to you.”

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