Hobo Hugh Grant

February 27th, 2012

He was late. He didn’t look like his picture (he said his hair had longer, “kind of like Hugh Grant.” Yeah, if HG was a hobo who didn’t shower…). So far, so blah. First, we went to an awful, scary bar because they did “really cheap beers.” Then we had to leave there and go to a pub in a freezing cold train station because “it’s cheaper.” He had grey teeth and kept leaving to go for a cigarette, in between drinking from my drink. He asked what size shoe I wear, because apparently I have “really big feet for a girl.” He expressed disappointment that I wasn’t more “touchy feely” as I shrank into the corner of the sofa to avoid his cigarette breath. He compared me unfavorably to other dates (“I usually get more contact. You’re being unusual.”), boasted that his shoes cost two dollars and then told me he was about to lose his job because he’d taken too many sick days for the boils on his ass. BOILS! ASS! I left and he texted me about how uncomfortable I’d made him and how my future would not involve him. My response? “Ditto.”

One Response to “Hobo Hugh Grant”

  1. March 17th, 2014
    Emily says:

    You should have left the moment you saw him and realized he didn’t look anything like his picture. He wasn’t honest with you about that and apparently about nothing else (assuming you got to know him a little bit on the internet before agreeing to meet).

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