I got home maybe an hour ago from one of the worst dates I've ever had. I'm moving to Montana to live alone in a log cabin. Anthony and I decided to meet up tonight and have dinner. The rest of the evening he had planned involved taking me up on the roof of his building where he'd seduce me with a view of the Empire State building. We talked during the week. I worried that I really didn't have much, if anything, in common with him and I'd end up walking away soon after seeing him again. It ended up going something like that.

We agreed to meet at Stonewall. I called him on his cell phone and told him I'd be there in about an hour. He was fine with it. I got ready, rushed into the city, got to Stonewall and there was Anthony. Sipping on a drink, sitting next to some guy. He introduced us. He thought I was offended. I wasn't. He apologized anyway. His speech was a bit slurred. He was ...drunk? We went outside. He grabbed me around my waist and said how much he wanted to see me all week. His breath. He was ...drunk!

"I'm not that drunk, baby. Seriously!" he explained.

"Yes you are. Look at you, Anthony, you can't even stand straight for a minute."

"I just had a couple drinks. I was waiting for you."

"And you had to get drunk? You weren't even waiting that long!"

He smiled and said something about having a bad day and that he really wasn't drunk. Then fucked that up by telling me he'd done roofies earlier in the day while on the job and still got everything done. I guess he thought that was a great example functioning while intoxicated. I wasn't impressed.

"I'm gonna go..." I turned away from him.

"No! Wait!" he grabbed me. "C'mon. We'll go get something to eat. I'll be better after some coffee. Please. I've waited all week to see you. C'mon."

So he held my hand and we walked over to Tiffany's. We ordered something to eat. We talked a little. He started in on the "come back to my place" speech he probably perfected all week. He made me out to be a prude when I said no. When our food came, he yelled at the waiter for coffee he didn't even order. His eyes looked like they were about to fall out of his head. We shared a couple halfway decent moments while in the diner. Just before he started getting loud an obnoxious again.

He paid the bill and we left. Outside, he pushed me up against a wall and kissed me. It was hard and the smell of alcohol was stronger than I thought it would've been.

"Come home with me," he started again. "We'll drink some wine, hang out, enjoy the view."

"No."

He tried to slip in hand in my pants. I grabbed it.

"Why are you pushing me away?" he protested.

I'd had enough. "Anthony ..." I sighed. "You're drunk. This isn't how I wanted to see you on our first date. I don't mind alcohol but you're meeting someone for the first time and you get..."

"I was nervous. I was. You're just so sexy. And I waited all week to see you. And I just wanted to be sexy. I'm never sexy."

The issues were surfacing.

"I'm gonna go. I'll call you tomorrow," I turned towards the subway.

"Fuck you! Don't call!" he yelled.

"...Ok," I walked away.