About a week before New Year's Eve, I received a text from him asking what my plans were. My plans involved Trey loosely, but I didn't want to rule out him flaking either, so I inquired what Jay had in mind. He spoke about a house party he was going to, told me I should come through. Let me stop and tell you about my issue with the words "come through." It is not how you ask someone on a date, it's how you ask a friend to come by, it's non committal, and it's so laid back, it turns the invite into a luke warm indifferent approach to hanging out. So, I told him, I had a few other parties to attend, but I'd let him know if I decided to "come through." I didn't.
A few days into the New Year, Jay hit me again and invited me to church and brunch. A much better invite, I accepted and we met for an encouraging word and some yummy food. The conversation was easy, we got along great, occupied the restaurant's table for quite some time, long after our bill was paid. When we parted, we agreed to do it again, hugged and kept it moving.
We hung out a couple more times, texted at random, but I was still inebriated by Trey, so I wasn't paying it much attention or giving it much weight. But this past Sunday, when we decided to do church/brunch again, and I was sans Trey, I told myself to really give it a chance, give it a little bit of poundage.
Jay walked into the popular diner before me, as I was running a few minutes late. It was just before noon, so the brunch rush hadn't yet hit. Apparently he spotted a booth and let the hostess know we'd take that table to which the hostess asked how many people were in his party. He told her two and after looking around, she responded by asking where the other member of the party was. At this point, I walked in, but stood behind him, so he couldn't see that I was observing the confrontation. The hostess said she couldn't seat incomplete parties and Jay went off. He told her she was ridiculous since his dining partner was just outside and since there wasn't even a wait, he was going to go ahead and sit down at the booth and she could get over it. And with that, he went and sat down. I apologized to the hostess, telling her I was the completion to the party before going to sit down with Jay. Moments later the manager came over, apparently Jay requested his presence, and asked if everything was okay.
Manager: Is everything okay today?
Jay: No, it isn't. Are you the manager?
Manager: No, I'm the owner.
Jay: Oh, you're the owner. Well, I'm DOCTOR CLARE.
B: *rolls eyes*
Owner: Okay, nice to meet you. What seems to be the problem.
Jay: The problem is that your customer service is terrible. The hostess is completely rude. I've dined at other locations and I've never been treated like this.
B: *wonders how Jay's managed to get treated as anything but a douchebag in the entirety of his whole life*
Owner: I'm so sorry you feel she was rude, but I can assure you...
Jay: No, don't give me the passive aggressive apology. I don't feel she was rude. She was and if you want to generate any type of serious revenue in this establishment, you need to reprimand her immediately and work on making sure your customers are happy from the moment they step into your restaurant.
Owner: *fumbles, hems and haws as Jay continues to berate him before apologizing one last time and walking into the kitchen to presumably tell the cooks to spit in our food*
It seems Jay has a complete and utter problem with ego. Yes, he's smart as hell. Yes, he graduated top of his class from Princeton and Duke. Yes, he's in a field of medicine that is 100% bad ass (his words) and super competitive. Yes, he drives a nice BMW. Yes, he's light skinned with curly hair (which I found out is because he is biracial and yes, he has a color complex), but for all that mess, Jay is an utter ass. I slowly but surely turned the brunch into a fun friend outing, even informing him I had a friend who lived just down the street, could she come join us too? By the end of the meal, I insisted on going dutch on the check and told him I'd talk to him soon. I don't plan on it, though. At. All. Too bad, I was hoping for some free botox.
That bitch stole my line,