Type A as in Ass...

I have several wonderful, smart, funny and oh yes KNOCKOUT GEORGOUS single girlfriends. I hear them speak of the pathetic Dallas dating scene, and being a supportive friend I mingle out some evenings to check out this scene. Tuesday was one such evening. I met one of the above motioned out for a cocktail and appetizer when up walks "Fred". "Fred" asks if he can take the only remaining open seat at the bar (next to us) and we agree. He casually interrupts to ask questions and find out our stories. He's not old, he's not ugly, he's not an idiot, and he's not poor...he might have potential.

As the evening progresses we move from the bar to the dining room at his invitation. This is where he begins his downward spiral of having a chance with anyone I know. He had a tantrum that we were placed at a table in the middle of the dining room and not a booth. He asked everyone to move us, and I mean everyone who came by for the entire 3 min we were at the table before moving to a booth. Strike 1.

"Fred" moves to the wine list...where he tells us about his undergrad experience in Italy and how he developed his fondness for certain wine while living there. Great, he's cultured...right? Well he also clearly wants us to know how much he is spending on wine, and for us to "experience" it because obviously we as women could never afford it on our own. Strike 2.

We move into dinner, and it was delicious and the wine was amazing. The only real issue is that he talked a lot about himself, and of course money. Usually in Dallas this is a clear sign of a liar...it is the land of men on overextended credit pretending to be things they are not. However I am very familiar with his company, and have connections to that family so I’m aware of the money he probably makes, and he wasn’t lying. He discussed private schools, charity events, hand made suits, college and graduate degrees, his triple Type A personality. We even heard the sad tale of how disappointed he was in moving from the 7 series to the Rover. Excellent. The plight of an upper class educated white guy. Let’s not even get into the fact that he told her she was well groomed, and checked to see if her hands/nails were well kept. Strike 3.

Unfortunately the final nail in the coffin was at the end of the evening...he helped my friend on with her jacket and also moved her hair. Warning to guys: NEVER touch a woman's hair that you are not involved with...ever. It's an intimate gesture and usually unwelcome.

We politely thanked him for dinner and wished him well. I'm sure his ego was not bruised, and told himself that clearly we don't recognize what an amazing catch he is.