Friday, February 26, 2010

The Pizza Guy

A couple years ago, I met a guy, "JR," through some friends. He had a bachelor's and master's degree from prestigious (and expensive) universities. He was, at the time, working as a software engineer for a tech startup that was doing well, earning six figures or close to it. After intense flirting at two parties, I sacked up and asked him out.

We met up at a sports bar in SoMa for some beers. Conversation flowed well until he realized that I worked at Google. At that point, he abruptly shifted gears and asked me, "Did you get in on that Google IPO action?"

I thought it was completely rude to bring up how much money we made on a first date. I started well after the Google IPO, which I told him, but then I quickly tried to talk about something else. Before I could, he interrupted, "But I bet you're making a ton of money."

I awkwardly responded, "Uhh... I'm doing alright for myself, I guess," to which he replied, resentfully, "Better than me."

The conversation rebounded, and aside from that blip, the date went well. The bill came out to under $20, and as one could easily guess, we went dutch. I gave him another shot, and we went on a couple more dates.

His roommate was frequently gifted free tickets to Warriers games, and for what ended up being our third and final date, JR was the beneficiary of a couple of these tickets. JR didn't have a car, so I drove us to Oakland. Parking was $20, and JR didn't move a muscle. Annoyed, I paid for parking, and we proceeded in. We were supposed to get beers and dinner there, so I went off to find us beer while JR had the task of procuring our dinner. I had no trouble getting us giant beers, but none of the food vendors ventured near our seats. In the third quarter, JR stood up and said, "I'm going to go get myself a pizza." Crickets.

This would be a much better story if I could say that, after he left to get his pizza, I left his ass there to find his own way home. Alas, here I cannot tell such a bold lie. I stayed and watched in shock as he devoured most of his pizza without saying a word to me. Only when there were a few bites left at the end did he look at me to say, "You want some?"

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