It was a Saturday night and I was asked out on a date by a guy, Mr. Cocky, I had met at a hotel bar the week before. (Note: Mr. Cocky is not his real name but rather a carefully selected name that I have chosen for him in order to help conceal is true identity. I call him Mr. Cocky because…well he is rather cocky.)
Mr. Cocky is somewhat of an attractive older man that is at least 10 years my senior. For whatever reason, when I first spotted him standing at the hotel bar with his friend, I was drawn to him. He had a great energy to him, a great smile, and looked very handsome in his tight-fitting jeans. His friend told me that Mr. Cocky also had a amazing apartment in Russian Hill with “to die for” views of the Golden Gate Bridge. And supposedly, Mr. Cocky was planning to host an upcoming holiday party at his apartment that I would definitely be invited to. To say the least, Dean was very intrigued.
Dean 0. Mr. Cocky 1.
It turns out that on the very night that I met Mr. Cocky, he was about to leave to go on a date with with some other woman who had offered to cook him dinner at her place. Since I was mildly attracted to this guy and there was no ring on his finger (that I could see anyway), I knew immediately that I had to do something to let this guy know that I was interested. I just couldn’t let this guy walk out of the bar that night without first having a way of getting in touch with me.
So I did what any girl would do who was in my shoes. Before he left to go on his dinner date with the “other” woman, I handed over my card to him and said, “it most likely won’t work out between you and your date tonight. So when you find yourself single again, give me a call.” He laughed as he took my card and securely placed it into the back pocket of his designer jeans. As he hugged me good-bye I said, “I’m looking forward to my date with you…in about 6 months!” Dean was quite smooth.
Dean 1. Mr. Cocky 1.
A week later, Mr. Cocky called to ask me out for dinner. My move worked like a charm.
Dean 2. Mr. Cocky 1.
This guy was smooth. He had the kind of confidence in himself that was almost blinding to watch. He smelled nice, had a full-head of hair, drove a nice car, was well-spoken, and clearly dated a lot of women. I know this because one of the first things he told me on our date was that he dated a lot of women. Right off the bat, Mr. Cocky was acting cocky. But I couldn’t tell yet whether I appreciated his cockiness or whether it bothered me. I figured that I at least had the rest of the night to figure it all out.
On the short drive to the restaurant Mr. Cocky told me how much he enjoys going on dates with women. He was divorced, didn’t care if he ever married again, and really just enjoyed spending time with beautiful women. He told me that it was impossible for him to ever be on a bad date. He knows that not everyone will like him but it’s always fun and exciting to get to know other people. Within a few minutes of me getting into his car, he insisted that he and I would have a great time together that night. There was no way that we couldn’t. I wasn’t so sure at that point but I went with it because he was cocky and seemed to know what he was talking about. He showcased extreme confidence in himself.
Dean 2. Mr. Cocky 2.
We arrived at the restaurant and everyone seemed to know who Mr. Cocky was. I was suddenly being introduced left and right to all of the hosts, waitors, and bartenders in the room. ”Do you come here on a lot of dates?” I asked Mr. Cocky. ”No,” he told me. ”He owns the place.” Mr. Cocky was obviously rich.
Dean 2. Mr. Cocky 3.
Before we were even seated at our table, Mr. Cocky asked me if I liked his body. I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to his question. I mean sure. He did look great in his jeans and his navy sport coat. But I hadn’t ever seen him without clothes on before. I had no idea what was underneath all of those clothes.
“I can’t tell,” I told him, feeling just a bit awkward.
“Well how do I feel?” he asked me, gently placing my two hands on his firm washboard abs.
“You feel great!” I assured him as we were being seated at our table.
I have to admit that it was a bit uncomfortable feeling Mr. Cocky’s body at his restaurant. But I certainly did appreciate the fact that he worked out and had a nice body to show for it.
Dean 2. Mr. Cocky 4.
Throughout my dinner with Mr. Cocky he was very touchy/feely. There was lots of hand holding, hands on the thigh moves, and hands around the waist. Mr. Cocky had smooth moves and certainly knew how to properly woo a lady. (There’s nothing more unattractive than a man who doesn’t have smooth moves.)
Dean 2. Mr. Cocky 5.
We hadn’t even ordered our food yet and Mr. Cocky started talking all about sex. He shared with me his likes and dislikes and wanted to know about all of mine. He told me that if and when there is a real connection between him and a woman, there will be making out/and or sex on a first date. The chemistry has to be there right away. I admittedly was uncomfortable with our sex talk. I wasn’t feeling ready to have this conversation with him. I didn’t know him well enough to indulge deeply in the conversation. Mr. Cocky was too forward for my own liking.
Dean 2. Mr. Cocky 4. (One point deduction for being too forward.)
On the drive home, Mr. Cocky asked me if I wanted to go back to his apartment…to check out his amazing views of the Golden Gate Bridge. Mr. Cocky used an awful pick-up line on me.
Dean 2. Mr. Cocky 3. (One point deduction for using a bad pick-up line.)
I declined his invitation.
Dean 3. Mr. Cocky 3.
Mr. Cocky pulled up in front of my apartment and went-in for the kiss good-night. The kiss wasn’t good. Mr. Cocky was a bad kisser.
Dean 3. Mr. Cocky 2. (One point deduction for being a bad kisser.)
As I exited his car, Mr. Cocky told me that he would call me later in the week. He never called.
Dean 3. Mr. Cocky 1 (One point deduction for lying.)
I found myself thinking a lot about Mr. Cocky that week, wondering if he would ever call, if he would un-friend me on Facebook, or if he was still even considering inviting me to his holiday party at his amazing apartment with the “to die for” views.
It’s been over a month and I never heard from Mr. Cocky again.
I am guessing that I never heard from him because I refused to “check-out” his place. Although I may have not seen a breath-taking view that night, I did learn an important lesson. In the game of love, there are all types of players. There is the Mr. Nice Guy, the Mr. Funny Guy, the Mr. Smarty Pants, and of course, there is the Mr. Cocky. But in the game of love, Mr. Cocky will never stand a chance. Because at the end of the day, all Mr. Cocky is, is a player. And a player who doesn’t play by the rules, can never stand a chance.
Dean 3. Mr. Cocky 0. (One point deduction for being a total player.)