He was so nice. So earnest. And so boring.

Last night, I was bored, so I went on a date with a guy who asked me out on OKCupid. He sent me a really nice, personal message. We met up at my local bar. He bought me a drink.

Ok, so it was a little weird. He told me he didn’t “do small talk.” So when I told him I’d dropped out of school for personal reasons, he asked why.

“It’s pretty heavy,” I said.

“That’s fine.”

So I told him my long ugly sob story. He told me he’d dated a series of girls who had been sexually assaulted. I told him that, in my personal experience, that was the norm, not unusual at all.

He started babbling generic progressive liberal stuff, which ended with, “Basically, straight white men have it easier than everyone else.”

“I mean, doesn’t that go without saying?” I replied. “Isn’t that kind of like saying ‘The sky is blue?'”

“Ok, fair,” he said.

He was blond and short and so sweet and so submissive and so boring.

Then he started talking to me about how his dad has cancer. Blah blah. Heavy. Not so much first date conversation. And, frankly, not the kind of conversation I felt like having over drinks on a Saturday night. So I went outside to smoke a cigarette and texted my friend.

“He’s nice, but kinda boring and the progressive person kind of irritating. Like, I am WAY more interesting than him.”

She immediately took it for the disaster it was.

“Want a call?” she replied. “Boyfriend drunk and hit me?”

Oh man. There’s a reason this woman is my friend. What a sick, sick, beautiful idea.

I told her to call me in 20.

Twenty minutes later, my friend called. She pulled out a great acting job from her theater degree, sobbing on the phone. Her boyfriend had been drunk, she said. He came home and hit her. She’d left without her coat and was at our favorite bar.

“Listen, you stay right there,” I said. “Sit in the corner. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

I hung up the phone and sighed.

“Oh man,” I said. “This friend – Jesus.”

I proceeded to tell him all about my friend’s imaginary abusive relationship.

“What can you do in that situation?” I said. “I mean, all you can do is let her know you think she should leave, and then support her and love her when she doesn’t.”

We had a long intimate chat about abusive relationships in general, and what you can do for a friend caught up in one. His opinion on that was generic and annoying, too.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I have to go deal with this.”

I went to the bathroom and then walked out, apologizing again, and then headed to a different bar to see some friends.

I’m an asshole. But that’s what you get for being nice and generic and boring, right?

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