I wish he was cussing instead...

Just coming home from yet another bad date, and I decided that this was the perfect time to start the dating blog that I've been thinking about for the last few weeks.
I know I can't be alone. I've had too many horrible dates to think that I'm the only one going out with these guys. There has to be other women that are meeting these shmucks, too! Not that I want to spend my blog time just making fun of men, but sometimes they make it difficult to take them seriously.
Tonight I went on a date with an old friend that I went to school with who had moved across the country some time ago. He was in town, and had shown interest in hooking up. He had never shown interest in anything physical while we were in school, so this caught me by surprise.
I find it really sad these days that it is almost easier to rely on the potential date bagging out and changing logistics at the last second, than to rely on them making actual plans and seeing them through. Most men in my age range (mid thirties) are more reliably unreliable than the weather.
Tonight's date was no different. We were originally supposed to meet last night after I was off work. This plan had me prepping from the night before - dealing with my hair: washing, drying, curling, setting my hair (a two hour feat, as there is a ton of it); removing hair that shouldn't be there; doing a quick pedicure, etc. It was nice to have a date to look forward to, as most of the men I am dating travel a ton (more on that later). I don't get to go out horribly often, and when I do, it's usually short notice. Obviously the date I was prepared for (Victoria Secret hair successfully attained) didn't happen. Instead it was moved to today. I met up with him, and though he is an old friend, I was reminded at how much he does NOT know me, or at least, how I have changed. He did make a show of pulling out the chair when we went to sit at the bar - and then he sat on it himself. He forgot his wallet, and though I am not a girl that expects a man to pull out her chair, or pay for her, this caught my attention. He also had me walk him to HIS car, though we were next to mine originally, leaving me to walk back across the mall by myself. And this is the kicker: he randomly breaks into tap dance. It doesn't matter where we are. Getting up from the bar stool. In a department store. After taking a pee. Anywhere. He has tap dancing tourettes. Now my degree is in drama, which is how I know him. He did perform on Broadway. I get it. He loves to dance. But still, does he have to tap about how happy he is that he just had chicken fingers?!?
It is highly unlikely that the planned "hook up" that I was considering with him will come to thruition. Besides the surprise Gregory Hines impressions, the inconsiderations that he showed while out and from the night before does not bode well for how he would treat me physically.
I guess today is yet another reminder that I am worth what I put up with. I decided awhile ago to no longer throw my pearls before swine, and I've been pretty good about that. It's just so sad. I was really looking forward to some fun, and a good distraction. I've been needing one.