Moksie’s Hollywood Date

Published January 11, 2013 by bossymoksie

I remembered this story L.A. story after writing my previous post. This happened a few years ago. I will post my thoughts on negging tomorrow.

hollywood director(** Also, when I told my friends this date story, they were horrified, but just know, I had a smile throughout the night. You’ll see why.)

I met this director at a Hollywood event through friends. Well, acquaintances.  He was interested. Of course he was. Every director wants his trophy muse. We talk. He’s funny, like brutally blunt funny. He asks me out on a date and for my number. I oblige.

Now, let me point out that I was actually nervous for this date. Like so many other girls  do when they meet someone they are interested in, I thought about how amazing everything was gonna be and our whole relationship flashed before my eyes: premieres with pretty dresses, buzzed laughing at industry people’s lame jokes, having a stylist on speed dial, and of course, great sex. Then a dramatic argument about a pair of some groupie skank’s panties in his bed followed by an amicable break up with me driving a new car as a consolation gift from him for my silence. It was gonna be beautiful.

I met him at a trendy restaurant, ready to dazzle and be dazzled. He immediately pointed out how ‘underdressed’ I was. Hello, it’s Los Angeles, everyone wears jeans and a cute top and shoes to dress up. I guess he was disappointed that I didn’t go all out but I like to save that as a weapon later on.

I didn’t take offense to it because, A)my sense of humor was similar to his, or so I thought, and B) I think too highly of myself to absorb insults whether you mean them or not. So I was able to appreciate his humor and his point. He was obviously being a douche and not wanting to impress me and get laid ever. I laughed. It didn’t end there though.

He didn’t like the restaurant we were in suddenly and we left. We walked to another place. Can you say diva?

At the new, fancier restaurant, he proceeded to criticize any little thing I said or did. How far away I was sitting from him, what I ordered, how I held my fork, how much I smiled. Are you fucking kidding me? Who doesn’t like a smile?!&*^@#Q@)*@&E$. He even went as far to imply that I was mentally retarded for smiling so much!

But there was a reason why I was smiling so much. Because I got the whiff. That smell of fear that dudes have when on a date with someone they think is so amazing and hot, they can’t even function right or think straight.

This dude was terrified of me. This award winning director and former athlete, who was also hot and rich. And he was afraid of me smashing his ego  and was trying to control the situation. He assumed, by the size of my rack and me feigning being impressed with his ‘status’, that I was one of those insecure plastic bitches that would try to please and impress him and get on his good side by jumping through hoops because of his digs at me. I’m not.

Then the night got really funny. The more he tried to insult me, the more I laughed at him because I knew it was from fear. And the more he got frustrated. I wasn’t behaving like he expected. I was having a good time, at his expense. And I enjoyed my expensive, bougie food because it was fuckin good food. Wish the company had lived up to the food and my pre-date fantasy though.

The other thing that turned me off was when he wasn’t trying to point out my made-up flaws that he pulled out of his ass, all he did was talk about HIM HIM HIM and how great he and his job and accomplishments were. This is why it would never work out with me and someone in the entertainment industry. There can only be one narcissist in the relationship in order for it to work, and that has to be ME! That’s just simple math.

After an hour or 45 minutes, I abruptly said I had to go because I was done eating thankyouverymuch.

He insisted on walking me to my car and quickly tossed some cash on the table (because I was leaving before the check came). I was half hoping that he would try to make a move, and half hoping he wouldn’t. I was hoping he would because I like to watch men dig their own graves and then when they try to make a move, I like to let them know that they will not be touching me now or ever, and then list every single thing he did wrong. It’s what I do. Which guys love to avoid. He must’ve sensed it because he kept his hands in his pockets and just stared at my car as I drove off.

He emailed me the next day asking for another date. I told him that someone as great as him probably shouldn’t lower himself to date an underdressed smiling retard who sits and holds her fork how she goddamned pleases and drinks fruity ass drinks.  He then replied that I could only date dumb pussies anyway so he wouldn’t be my type.

LOL, he’s the pussy who can’t have a decent conversation over dinner with an awesome girl.

He sent an apology email soon after and then told me to never contact him again. Wow. It was funny for one night but I hate dealin with other people’s insecurities. Get a fuckin psychologist.

Insecurity is a turnoff because it makes you say and do stupid shit. Which is annoying to the other person, who is just minding their own business and being awesome and then there you are, fuckin up their awesome space and mindset because you can’t handle the awesome, but want to so badly. This is why you should handle and squash any and all insecurities before you even think about dating. Especially if you want to date someone awesome.

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16 comments on “Moksie’s Hollywood Date

  • He sounded like a royal asshole for real! You crack me up with your way of thinking. I could see myself handling the situation in the same manner…

  • I hate meeting a man who talks about himself all damn day, really? Like don’t they know it’s not about them it’s about me! (shallow thinking) LOL…

  • Ok this is a “Field Report” (as we’d say in pickup).

    BTW, did you suggest the restaurants or he did [since it was his town]?

    As for the whiff of fear, women can sense that shit in men. But it’s so ironic that men (because we’re too practical), we cannot read these things at all.

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