In the not so distant past, I met a guy online. He asked me for my number almost within 5 minutes of me replying to his original email, and from that moment forward, he started texting me like crazy. I always feel a little uncomfortable in this moment, as it is my firm belief that everyone has a texting persona, and that you can be ANYONE you want to be in that persona. I’m weary of hiding behind technology, and besides – I don’t want a pen pal, I want a partner! So I replied with my stock phrase: “I’m not a huge texter, can we hang out in person and see if there is any chemistry?” to which he responded – surely! We set up a date – and I decided I’d test this dude out.
Dinner was sub-par in terms of conversation (the food was as always at this Thai restaurant in Philly was – excellent). I found out a little bit about him, and he found out some about me. During our conversation, he also revealed two strange things to me:
1) He was moving at the end of the weekend (this was a Friday nite!) to DC
2) He was planning on eventually moving back to India
Both of these facts were red flags to me. I’m not about to relocate to DC or start visiting some guy I had JUST met in a city that wasn’t within 1 hour of driving distance. Furthermore, there was NO way I was moving to India any time soon. “Why would he even go on a first date with a lady from Philly”, I thought!
As we were walking towards the subway (him) and my house (me), he stopped, opened up his back pack, and handed me a stuffed dog. That’s right, a stuffed animal on date #1. He claimed that they had been out of flowers when he went to get them, so he bought me this dog. Sweet sentiment – but odd to me. Because it was so well intentioned, I decided I’d have to give this guy a second chance.
On the day of our 2nd date, I hadn’t heard from him at all – despite the fact that he had been texting me like crazy the day before. So I eventually wrote to him confirming our plans. He wrote back to me indicating that he’d had a TERRIBLE day, and that something awfully terrible had happened, but that he’d make it in for our date – provided we had dinner. When we got together that night, I asked him what had made the day so terrible.
His response: “I was driving on the highway back from Maryland and I almost died!”
Me: “OMG that’s terrible! What happened?”
Him: “My tires lost pressure and I drove on low pressure for 5 miles until I found a gas station!”
Me: “Wait, you mean you had a flat tire! That’s terrible!”
Him: “No it wasn’t a flat tire, just low pressure!”
Me: “Wait…you mean your tire pressure indicator went off?!?”
Him: “I drove on low pressure for 5 miles, it was terrifying. I almost died!”
Me: dumbfounded look on my face.
Moral of the story: always check your tires. Low pressure can kill you.