Shit Mr. Suave Says (or, the Classy Date with Mr. Suave)

I think Mr. Suave knows that I'm not overly crazy about him.  My attitude towards him is that if he wants to take me out, I'll let him.  It had been a little while since the shoulder-flicking Afghan-music-listening date.  I had since become less numb to the whole break-up thing, and had been really having an emotional roller coaster.  I thought I liked one guy (we'll call him Excuses for future reference), and then he wasn't really that into me, and I just really wasn't sure what I wanted.  I realized that I might do better if I took a more affectionate approach with Mr. Suave; instead of fighting his affections, maybe I'd let down my guard and relax with him.  

We made plans to go swing dancing together, and he offered to take me to dinner beforehand.  I thought that was a nice gesture.  He suggested we go somewhere classy.  Then he took me to Pei Wei.  I'm just going to state the obvious, Pei Wei is not what I call a classy restaurant.  Phew, got that off my chest.  I actually had never been to a Pei Wei before, and I wasn't adamantly opposed to it, so I let it happen.  When we got to the door, though, there was a line like I've never seen at a fast-food-ish type restaurant before.  And it was cold, and I was ill prepared for being cold.  Mr. Suave put his arms around me to keep me warm (and I think he was also selfishly using me for my warmth), and I practiced letting my guard down, and it was actually quite comfortable.  We stood in line for what could have been 90 minutes before placing our orders, and finally were seated and got our food shortly after.  All in all, not a bad dinner, it was just, not, yeah, not classy.  

Now, I do need to go back in history a bit and tell you about, what I like to call, Shit Mr. Suave Says.  Mr. Suave is pretty smart, but clearly not as smart as me, which I can understand, as most people are not at my same intellectual level.  I think maybe I intimidate him, though.  So he comes up with these wildly absurd assertions, and asks me to validate them.  He's done this for years and it used to drive me up the wall.  Most of these conversations would end in me saying, "No," and then awkward silence.  Sometimes, to lighten the mood, I'd change it up to, "Nope," but it was still quiet and awkward for a moment. I'll give you some examples, because they're just too good to keep to myself.  

Shit Mr. Suave Says

S: "Are you going to church on Sunday?"

Me: "No, I'm going hiking."

S: "Oh, so you've sworn off going to church ever again?"

Me: "No..."

S: "You like going to bars a lot?"

Me: "Yeah, I like to dance."

S: "Country dancing?"

Me: "Nope."

S: "Do you take the I-17 to Tucson?"

Me: "The I-17 doesn't go to Tucson."

S: "Are you sure?"

Me: "Yes, I drive there all the time."

S: "How do you get there?"

Me: "The I-10."

S: "But the I-17 goes south and the I-10 goes east."

Me: "The I-10 goes south east.  The I-17 doesn't go further south."

S: "So you don't take the I-17 to Tucson?"

Me: "No."

S: "Your ears looks like they were pierced."
Me: "Yep, I had two holes in each."
S: "What did you have in them?"
Me: "Earrings."
S: "They look like they were more than earrings.  You have five or six holes."
Me: "No, just two in each ear."
S: "Are they closed up?"
Me: "Yep, they were always getting infected and I didn't like the way earrings looked on me."
S: "So what do you do now when you want to wear earrings?"
Me: "I don't."
S: "Can't you stick earrings in part way?"
Me: "They'd probably fall out."
S: "But all women like to wear ornaments.  Why don't you wear earrings?"
Me: "No!"

Me: "Hmm, that car says (enter Indian name) on the license plate, that's my friend's last name.  I wonder if that's her ex-husband."

S: "You have a friend that divorced an Indian guy?"

Me: "Yes."

S: "Was her name Karen?"

Me: "No..."

S: "Oh, because I have a friend who divorced an Indian guy.  Her name is Karen."

(Comment: Mr. Suave is Indian, so I would think he of all people would be aware that there are a lot of Indian people in the world. Even here in Arizona.)

(I look at a recent text message).

S: "What?   Did you call someone and they responded with a text message?"

Me: "Nope."

So back to my classy date story.  As we were driving to swing dance, Mr. Suave threw another one of his curveballs at me.  I can appreciate that he was trying to take an interest in something I am passionate about, electric cars, but I just don't know what to make of this conversation.  

S: "I saw a Nissan Leaf the other day. It was so loud."
Me: "Really, they shouldn't make any noise. Are you sure it was a Leaf?"
S: "Yeah it said Nissan Leaf."
Me: "What kind of noise did it make?"
S: "Just the engine noise as it took off."
Me: "Leafs don't have engines."
S: "Oh really? I thought it was a hybrid."
Me: "Nope."

Now, what really made the date classy was when we got to swing dance.  He asked if I would be paying for myself.  Oi vey.  Yes, fine, I'll pay the whopping $7 to get in to Kat's Korner (which by the way is a fantastic venue for Saturday night fun).  We danced quite a bit, but he also danced with several other girls, as is expected, and I danced with several other guys.  At the end of the night, he drove me home, and didn't even attempt to kiss me.