Thursday- The Difference Between a Lawyer and a Catfish

From the moment he began messaging me on the dating website, I knew this guy wasn't going to work out. Still, for some misguided reason, I agreed to go on a date with him. I mean, after 4 months of messages, I almost felt like I owed him at least one date. Plus you never know, right? Maybe he would have come across better in person that he did in his profile.

He didn't.

He showed up in an ill-fitting suit. Admittedly, he did tell me he'd be in a suit since he was coming straight from work, but I'd thought a lawyer would have had to know how to dress himself. I was clearly wrong. I'm sure it didn't help that Ill-Fitting Suit is a public defender, so it's not even like he's making the big bucks that I thought were the only reason one became a defense attorney for in the first place. Not my place to judge his chosen profession, though.

He's picked one of his “favorite local hangouts,” and it was a local pub with a median clientele age of probably 25. That would have been fine, except he was close to 20 years older than that. If there's a sure-fire way to make yourself seem insecure about your age, that's it. When we sat down at a table, he told me that the reason he liked it was because he knew all the waitresses.

“Like Kelly,” he said, the one we had that evening. “She knows that when I tip her an absurd amount, it's not because I'm trying to sleep with her. It's just because I have extra money and want to give it to someone that needs it.”

Oookay then.

At least the food was good. I had a burger with pepper jack cheese and jalapeno slices- heavenly. The conversation kept veering into awkward places, though. Like when he started telling me about how he liked to cook from his mother's recipes. Sweet, right? Except when he told me about how when she was on her deathbed, it took her a while to die from the cancer, so she was able to write down all the recipes for him and his siblings. “When I cook them, I can feel her standing over me saying 'no, you idiot! Do it this way!'” I know that's just how I want my food prepared- with the undead presence of an Italian mother berating the cook.

Then he started telling me about how he was planning to take one of his dogs back to the breeder. “That's horrible!” I said. “How long have you had him?”

“3 years. But my other dog is getting old and sick, and I've had her longer, so I'm going to give the Newfie back to pay more attention to her.”

Great.

Lawyer- check. Mommy issues- check. Serious ethical differences (which I should have figured out with the whole defense attorney thing)- check. It was like he was created from the checklist of my nightmares!

I let him walk me back to my car and gave him an awkward hug. When I drove away, he was standing on the corner talking to some random guys hanging out in front of the library. I wonder if he was looking for new clients.

As my mom always said, what's the difference between a lawyer and a catfish?

One's a scum-sucking bottom feeder.

The other's a fish.