Dating Disaster #4: You Won't Last Too Long On Broadway

So this dating disaster was yet another CL find. I had responded to what I thought was kind of a witty ad about words or something equally nerdy. I talked to Jeff on the IM a few times, and he seemed ok. However, he did offer to take me on a trip, which is always weird. I don't know what the deal is with dudes I don't know inviting me on trips. Anyway we had plans to go on a date, but he had to cancel because he had to be on call that day for Law and Order.
Oh yes, this craigslist gem was an actor. He has been on L&O 3 times, which he was sure to remind me about several times. He was quite wounded when I pointed out that everyone in NY has been on L&O -- seriously, one of the social workers at my agency has been on it 3 times.
Anyway, then he had to bail another time, I don't remember why. And then we canceled another time, I think that time it was me. Anyway, I was over it. And then I decided to go on a break from dating, probably because of some other dating disaster.
So then flash forward a month and I am out with a friend gettin' my drank on and I've had a few and we're at WhiteCastle, you know, I get an IM from him on my phone. So I'm all rum and dieted/onion ringed up and I decide that he and I should meet at a bar across the street from my apartment.
And he's a little bit over-anxious. Like I had already seen his pic (headshot. for ser), and he texted me to let me know what he would be wearing. But then he texted me later to let me know that he had changed his mind as was wearing a green shirt. That kind of anxious.
But he shows up at the bar and pays for my drinks, which is a small gesture I always appreciate. And we're talking and having a good enough time as I recall. No idea what we talked about, but he must have been doing all right because I invited him back to my place.
We get back to my place and I go into the bathroom and I come out to find that he has discovered the grand piano in my roommate's room.
"Can I play you something? I was in four broadway musicals, you know."
ugh.
But apparently even that wasn't enough to deter me, because we end up in my room. And we're about to be having sex and he says,
"You're not too drunk are you?"
"No. Why? Are you worried about my ability to give consent"
"No. I just want you to remember how good this is going to be"
At this point, with his dick actually inside me, I laughed in his face.
"What?"
"Um, I can't belive you just said that."
"What? Why?"
"Never mind. Let's just do this"

Note: Sometimes I think people miss part of what is the most hilarious about this anecdote. Because not only was it a ridiculous thing to say. But I was genuinely, earnestly thinking he was worried about gray rape. But no.

So was the sex worth being sober for? Of course not. And it was one of those times where you're just waiting for the dude to finish up cuz the alcohol's wearing off and you're starting to get a headache and you kind of just want to get some water and some advil and hope he doesn't try to cuddle.

However, there were a few memorable parts. As I was running my hands through his hair...I noticed what appeared to be...sewn in hair. Like, I'm not familiar with hair solutions for men....were they hair plugs? A wig? I don't know, but it was like trying to run your hands through the hair of a cheaply made doll.

I noticed also....moles. But I wrote it off and passed out.

First thing I notice in the morning though was those fucking moles. So friends who I have told this to who have a few moles have seemed a little concerned, like perhaps I think they are disgusting. And no. These were not those kind of moles. These were like, yo you wanna get yourself to a dermatologist because I am pretty sure I see these motherfuckers changing size and shape in front of me. Full on pre-cancerous melanomas. All. Over. Everwhere. Face, neck, chest. Sick. I was seriously nauseous.

And of course, he wants to have the morning sex. See And She Was for a description of why morning sex is distasteful. But basically I don't understand why the morning sex after what is doomed to become a one-night stand. I know there is this whole sterotype of women who prefer that men stay over and cuddle (see: When Harry Met Sally), but this is one area where I am firmly dude. Unless I like you, I don't want to cuddle with you. But, obviously this guy didn't get that. Seriously, in mid-thrust at one point in the night (which is where his best conversation took place) he was like, um, so we need to go out again, because I don't usually do this. Ummm.
Anyway, this dude was all trying to kiss on me, and it was a toss-up between giving in and pushing him out of the bed because either way I would have to touch his sick moles. But giving in could possibly mean also having to touch his sewn-in hair, so I got out of bed.
I had to force him out after he tried to invite me on a weekend trip with his friends. Seriously. It happens all the time.

Of course he texted me a couple of times after that. And of course I did not reply. Then, predictably he did the check-in call, which we all know I hate. "Heeeyy Caitlin...iiitt's Jeff....I texted you a couple tiiimes. Maybe you didn't get theeemm?....umm...but, I thought we had a good time? Aaaanyway...call me back". Pathetic. And that was the end of The Actor.