One Down

Friday after work, I met Bachelor Number One.   On paper, he looked very promising:  nice looking, accomplished, confirmable background and reasonable profile.  The five kids gave me pause, but in my online fact checking - possible because he'd given me his first name and phone number - showed that he was, as he claimed, divorced.  He wanted to meet me and I set up a time.  I felt pretty hopeful about him being as interesting as he appeared to be.  We agreed to meet at a local restaurant.

The first thing I noticed as I pulled up in the parking lot and spotted him right away was his very expensive and sporty silver car.  The second thought that crossed my mind as I got out and stood next to him was "5'11" my ass."  But he did look just like his profile picture, so I shrugged that off and followed him inside.

The bar of the restaurant was nice, with lots of granite and wood surfaces and pleasant colors.  We took a seat and ordered our drinks, and started to chat.  While we were talking, I noticed a few things.  He was pretty proud of himself, but lacked any balancing humor or self-depreciating remarks to make himself seem less stuffy.  He at one point stated that he did pretty well for himself financially (I hadn't asked; we were talking about the cost of living in Northern California.  I don't care if you're Bill Gates.  It still costs an awful lot more than it should to live in the Bay Area.). 
He could carry on a conversation and was interesting to talk to, but he wasn't funny at all.  He referred to his ex-wife in very derogatory terms.  He seemed to think I was making a favorable impression - yay me - but I doubt if it occurred to him that HE was on trial, too.  I remember being put off by his view that the 1950s had been an idyllic period in American history.  I didn't reveal that I'd checked out his background on the Internet; I just listened to him talk and noticed things that stood out.
There were few discrepancies in his story, but one of them was rather glaring:  he'd described himself as "completely free to set his own schedule" (including a bit of taunting about how he never had to get up early, after I mentioned how I get up at 5:30), but it turns out that he has those five children every other weekend.  And although he'd had them for a large chunk of the Winter break, he apparently was unaware that it was his weekend again. 
The first of what turned out to be a multitude of cellphone calls, which he mistakenly identified as being from his business partner, was his ex-wife wondering why he wasn't at home to meet the children she was dropping off.  He stepped away to take the call, but I could tell it wasn't a happy chat.  It seems his brood, which he described as "able to take care of themselves" had a key to get in, so he couldn't understand what the problem was.  When I asked, he told me they ranged from eight years old to fifteen.   In my head, I was calculating that his ex-wife, whom he referred to as the cliched "ball and chain,"  had produced 5 kids in 7 years, but he had the attitude that his part of that had been just as hard as hers.  And as he'd divorced five years ago, they'd been three to ten at the time.  I'm sure my face betrayed my opinion of this.

But the real kicker to the time we spent together was that he kept pulling out his cellphone, looking at who was calling, making some prediction about who was calling him and why, and then getting up and walking a short distance away, and conducting his calls.  Over and over again.
Not long after we'd arrived, the place filled up, so that there was a man and woman sitting to my right.  They were friendly and had said hello when they sat down, and when my date kept getting up to take his calls, they remarked on it to me.  I informed them that we were on a first date with a wry grin, and the man had the decency to look horrified and they both made consoling comments.
When our drinks were finished and it was time to leave, we walked out to our cars and he stopped beside them to tell me he'd enjoyed our date.  I know I said something to the effect that he owed me at least a half hour - my way of letting him know I didn't appreciate his behavior. Rather unexpectedly, he leaned in for a kiss.  He took me off guard, and his lips were too soft and spongy.  I broke away and got in my car, glad to have the date over, and thankful that the darkness hid my grimace.

Later, when I looked at my phone, I saw that he'd called three hours later and had left me a voicemail. 
He told me how he'd had a great time and said something like he was giving me back a half hour (so he'd heard me) but there was nothing like an apology in his words.  He sounded self-satisfied and smug.  He said he'd talk to me soon.  Today there were two emails from him.  I deleted them without responding.

I am not going to see him again.  That's one down.