Road Rage

Posted on January 17, 2014


He better be buying me a present in there. They sell diamonds in Toys R Us, right?

He better be buying me a present in there. They sell diamonds in Toys R Us, right?

This story is from Naty, a 32-year-old administrative assistant from Brooklyn, NY, as told to Raz:

My online dating tool of choice was OkCupid. While browsing, I met Timothy, and we hit it off pretty well. He seemed like a cool guy by email and text, so we decided to meet up. I’d mentioned in one of our conversations that I had a car, so he asked if I’d be willing to pick him up for our date. I figured he probably didn’t have a car of his own, so it was the least I could do.

When I got to his apartment building, he got in the car and greeted me with a simple, “Hi, nice to meet you.” So far, so good. I asked where he wanted to go, and he told me he had a surprise planned to make the night special. He was tight lipped about our end point though, and simply directed me as we drove. We ended up in a parking lot outside Toys R Us.

“Give me a minute,” he said. “I need to check something out.”

As I waited what seemed like an hour for him to return, I thought, “Are we running an errand? Is he here buying himself a video game?”

When he returned empty handed, I asked, “OK, so what are we doing here?”

“Oh,” he said. “I just needed to check out a price on a gift for my friend’s baby shower. It’s coming up soon, and I’m trying to get the best deal.”

And I was right. This guy just ran an errand on a date.

I’m all about second chances, however, so I swallowed my anger and hoped for a better end to our date. He directed me out of the parking lot, and while driving to another unknown destination, he pulled out his phone.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Just looking up other prices.” He said, while directing me to go left, then a right. Then he asked if I could pull over so he could call another Toys R Us. Come on, really?

That was definitely strike two, but because I didn’t want to come off as a bitch, I stupidly gave this guy a third chance. When Timothy finally got off the phone, he directed me to some dinky little Chinese restaurant where he….wait for it, wait for it…ordered take out.

I figured we’d be eating in the car—or at the nearest Toys R Us—but he directed me to a pier, where we could look out at the city lights while eating bad Chinese burgers.

It was a nice touch, but at this point, I’d had enough. So I cut the night short with a lie about having to work early the next morning.

I drove him back to his place. Before getting out of the car, he smiled at me and said, “For our second date, I’ll pick you up.” Did my ears just deceive me? Nope. He had a car the whole time. Yet, he used up my gas and my time to run his errands.

Sorry, Timothy, I am no man’s chauffeur.

Posted in: Your Stories