Marginally bearable P

I met up with, god what the fuck is his name....Oh right, P, the klutzy Brit. We were going to meet in the Upper East since I had dinner plans up there afterwards and it was his neighborhood. We met on the corner and he looked up at the bar we were standing next to and said, "How about here?" I thought to myself, "Really? You live in this neighborhood and didn't have a place already picked out in your head?" It was a little bright for my taste, especially for a blind meet up, I didn't really want too many people to be able to see us. He noticed my hesitation and suggested we take a quick walk to see what else there was. We walked past Brother Jimmy's and while I was smirking to myself because a guy I used to date lived above this bar and we had many "last drinks" there, P stopped and looked back at the bar and said, "How about here?" I couldn't hide the snobby "you've got to be fucking kidding me" expression on my face. Bro J's is ok when you're hammered and having one more drink before you go upstairs to shag your man, but NOT ok for a first date! He said lets just go back to the first place and I agreed, just wanting to get out of the freezing cold.

To sum it up, he turned out to be a bit awkward in person and while he asked great questions and we had some things in common, I couldn't help but feel the strong urge to look at my blackberry and see if any of my other suitors had emailed me. Not a good sign. While he was talking I Iooked past his head, longingly at the glowing orange Brother Jimmy's sign and wished I was sitting across from J (the former man) instead. I was so relieved that I had dinner plans afterwards because 50 minutes was just on the line of bearable, 51 would have tipped it over to the -un side.

P texted me today to say he had a great time and hoped to see me again soon. Really? Why is it that only the ones you're not interested in are the ones that call?