Beware the Pretzel Vendor

No matter how cute he is.

Last week a girlfriend and I ran into a very gregarious, cutie patootie hawking concessions in the parking lot after the Phillies game. He seemed pretty cool--but the pretzel-vending state in which we met him prompted my friend to ask him about his real livelihood. He proceeded to tell us about all his various money-making schemes--his legion of ATM machines (he owns a couple), selling designer jeans at discount (probably to women that wear size 0 and are battling anorexia), etc. OK, I appreciate entrepreneurs and those who are little off kilter, so I gave him my number without really thinking much about it. Oh, so very much a bad idea.

Day 0: He texts that night--good to meet you, bla bla bla. I respond in kind.
Day 1: Texts me to ask about weekend plans. Tell him I'm meeting with friends & have a wedding but to come out for happy hour (where my friends can play buffer if he turns out to be a complete meathead)
Day 3: Multiple texts to meet up. We finally talk around 10:30. He never made it to the city and is in Doylestown. Huh? Then he asks me to come out there & meet up. Doylestown? I rarely venture out of a 5 block radius of Rittenhouse--how about no?
Day 4: 10:30 call in the morning--I decide not to pick up. 10:40 call in the morning from a 215 number--looks like my friend's home phone in the city. It's not. Nope, it's pretzel boy, pretending for the first couple minutes to be my friend. But we talk for a while, and he yammers on about how nice if I was next him at the moment, that I'd enjoy being with a 6'5" guy, and so on. I tell him he sounds like he has excessive testosterone buildup. He takes that the wrong way and says I should help him out with that. This is pure entertainment. I make a mental note to never meet up with this guy alone. Even so, I "plan to make plans" to get drinks during the week. Later that night, a friend and I get home from a wedding and I text to see what he's up to--with a followup text that "this is not a booty call." He calls & my friend talks to him --he's employing his best sales skills to drum up a threesome. Oh, hell no.
Day 5: He calls from cell, then calls from his home phone at 11am on a Sunday (you already tried that trick, bubba!). Then 5:30. I ignore each call. Stop the madness! Then another text at 9:30. We are only at Day 5, remember.

Lessons learned:

• Smooth talkers are good for just that: talking. (Unless you're bent on catching an STD.)
• The dating scene is rife with the unstable. (Myself not excluded, mind you.)
• A cute smile and a free pretzel are just simply not enough for the digits.
• Stick with hot dogs at the ballgame.

UPDATE- Just got another text: "Hey cutie wanna hang out tonite?" Me: "Rough wkend, chillin tonite. Maybe happy hr Wed." Him: “Sounds good.” So I have til Wed to figure out an outrageous excuse on why we can’t hang out. Last minute secret mission out in the Middle East to snuff out the Hezbollah is my top choice for an excuse at the moment.