My Date with Man Bag

It’s no secret that I am the queen of unlucky in love, er lust. I’m sure there are a zillion explanations as to why. Maybe I should take the advice of friends and loved ones and stop being attracted to men that shower without prompting or maybe even go for the ones with jobs or goals. So recently, I tried to adopt a new attitude. I got myself a date with someone I would never normally be in to. We agree on a dinner date. I meet him outside of the restaurant. (He says, pick a sushi restaurant. I did. He thought my choice was not a good one and chose another.) I stroll up to the restaurant. He is standing there holding a bag. I figure it is a wine bag for a BYOB. We walk over to the new sushi restaurant of his choice and sit down. Looking at the menu, I see that they serve alcohol so I order red wine and he orders white zinfandel (enough said). I was just excited to be on a date as it had been awhile so I let the white zinfandel go. Our food comes. He keeps calling the waitress “honey” which is making me nauseous. A baby cries in the distance and he says “who would bring a baby here”. I say “maybe people who eat dinner and have a baby.” My eyes wander over to the far corner of the table and I spot the “bag”. “What is that”, I say regretting the question as it leaves my mouth. He replies, “It’s my man bag”.

Ok now my heart is racing as I notice a little tag on the front of the bag that reads “Hercules”. Jesus, the bag has a name and it’s Hercules. Now dear reader, please know that this did not look like a messenger bag or backpack. There was nothing acceptable or masculine about this bag. He says “I love it.” At this point, the wine has clearly kicked in and the thoughts are racing through my head. Who do I call from the bathroom to report this to? Instead I say, “What’s in there?” He tells me “body spray, phone, deodorant, toothbrush, wallet and keys”. I try and mask my look of horror as I picture a bottle of AXE body spray resting so very close to me, when he asks me what’s in my purse. “Tampons”, I scream.

After dinner, I get my purse and he gets his and we walk out of the restaurant. He makes some off color comments about people we pass on the street and then he wanders in to a bar. I stand outside thinking I could run but I was wearing heels. Stupid girl. I meekly follow behind him; he walks to the back of the bar not saying anything to me. He begins to talk to a waitress. And then starts to walk out. Still, no words are spoken. Outside, I say “um what was that?” He says he was looking for somebody. Awesome. Then, eyeing my tattoo he goes, “let’s say hi to my friend in that tattoo shop.” What? Basically, man bag is running errands on my watch. Cursing man bag in my head, I muster up my excuse, “listen I have to go, I’m tired.” (Who cares if the sun was still out?)

Of course, I got home and called everyone I know to say that the man bag was not just a Seinfeld episode. I lived it. But worse. And the lesson learned is that there is a reason you don’t date people you are not attracted to! Needless to say, I’m done dating for a while. A long while.