I paused to think about this.....
Originally from the East Coast.
Moved to California to pursue his passion of screenwriting. (Bonus points for his film actually being in production as I type).
Has a great relationship with his mother and siblings.
Currently works as a physical trainer. (Bonus of a fit body).
Is "Artsy" and creative. (Has sold a few of his paintings via an Art Gallery downtown).
No mention of height on his profile (Downgrade since I am in fact a height snob)
Only 3 pictures on his profile, one being a black and white, another of a dated looking head-shot, and a distant shirtless/workout photo. (This could be a disaster).
I decide to give Frank my phone number and tell him that he should call me. Frank says that he's going to call me at 7 o'clock. I keep my fingers crossed that he has a personality and is just as humerus during conversation as he is behind a keyboard.
Come to 9 pm that night and no word from Frank.....
Cut to the next day, Frank does indeed call me and we have a nice conversation of about 25 minutes. He was very funny and charming and asked if he could take me to dinner. I told him I was free that upcoming Sunday. He took charge and said that he would find a restaurant close to both of us and text me with the spot. A man with a plan, I have to say I am impressed. Way better than "Netflix and Chill".
The next morning I wake up to a text saying "We are going to Firefly on Sunday at 7pm for dinner. Way to go Frank!
I am running a few minutes behind and text Frank that I am just parking. He texts back "Great. I'm here, got a table in the back".
I walk in to the very dimly lit restaurant to find Frank in his beanie and hoodie....
Frank notices that I am zoning out and asks me if my back is hurting perched up on the ottoman? I tell him it's a bit uncomfortable. He pulls a smooth move and says to come sit by him on the couch, where it's more comfortable. I oblige. That's when it hits me FULL FORCE. The stink, the smell, the stank.... is in fact Frank. Gahhhh!
Man with a plan
Not impressed aesthetically
Now that I have indeed located the source of the smell, I am trying to pinpoint exactly what it smells like.. I conclude that it is a mixture of sour milk and dare I say weed. I try not to jump to conclusions here. I know that Frank is a personal trainer. Maybe he just finished up with a client and didn't have time to shower. This could explain the slob look as well. Maybe his last client was Snoop Dogg, which could explain the weed factor. This is L.A. after all. You never know.
After finishing our one and only round of drinks, Frank orders water. It hits me that we are not switching tables, we are not getting dinner, and we are not going to continue drinking. Of course not. Frank is no longer a man with a plan. Frank is however a man with several funny stories to tell. He tells me a few that are literally cracking me up so hard that I almost pee my pants. THAT funny.
Frank then mentions that the bathrooms at the restaurant are unisex. My response is "cool".
I tell him, "No I'm good. If you have to go, go right ahead". He says that he doesn't have to use the restroom but says that it would be 'so funny' if we walked in there holding hands.....
Again I tell him, "No dude, I'm good. I'm not going to the bathroom with you".
At this point I am trying to find a way out of the date. I can't escape via the bathroom because if I excuse myself to the restroom, homeboy will follow me in there like a lost puppy. What a predicament.
Somehow during my plot of escape, the conversation topic became 311. Yes, the band 311. For those of you that don't know, 311 was a popularish band in the 90's. They infused funk, reggae, heavy rock, and rap, and most of their lyrics were probably written while they were high as kites. They make that much sense. I'm not ashamed to admit that I was totally into 311 and I was totally in 7th grade at the time and didn't know any better. Based on the fact that Frank is STILL a 311 fan and goes to their concerts (sidenote who even knew they still performed?) I determine that Frank is in fact a pothead.
I am not "down". Haha, sorry bad 311 pun.
The valet pulls up with my car and Frank asks me out again. I give him my best fake smile and I tell him to call me. Bottom line fellas, when you ask a girl out to dinner, show up clean, dressed in daytime clothing (not your pajamas), and buy her dinner. I will give Frank this, he is a very funny guy with amazing ideas and talent. But much like 311, As soon as I get into my car, Frank is a thing of the past. A distant memory. So long Frank.
Stay tuned for more dating diaries. Until next time. XOXO