The Trust Fund Baby

So a few weeks back I matched with Vince; a 23-year-old Vanderbilt graduate from Northern California. He sounded pretty promising on paper; but let me tell you, that was not the case in reality.

So after about 2 days of back and forth he asked me out to drinks on a Thursday night. He picked me up outside of the gate at my apartment complex in a brand new BMW.

“Sorry my Porsche is in the shop, girls usually like that more” he said before even greeting me. I laughed, assuming it was a joke… but he didn’t even crack a smile. OK, I thought. Clearly off to a great start. We drove about 10 minutes to Bar Louie in one of my favorite parts of Nashville. The hostess found us a table right away and the waitress appeared soon after.

“Can I get y’all started with some drinks?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’ll have a Manhattan and she’ll have White Nectar” he responded before I could even take a breath. Clearly he’s been around the block a time or two.

“Wow, thanks for ordering for me, saved me the trouble of looking at the menu.” The sarcasm stung my own lips on the way out.

“You’ll like it, don’t worry” he assured me.

So I let it slide and proceeded to ask him about himself and he started blabbering on and on about how his family comes from old money and that he’ll basically never have to work a day in his life and he doesn’t intend to and how he’s sitting on a $2 million dollar trust fund. He spent 20 minutes giving me a history lesson on his family tree in while I tried not to fall asleep. I get it, your family has a long line of wealth, let’s move on. I’ll admit, I come from a well off family, not nearly to this level, but that’s not something I would ever brag about. Yet this guy continued to ramble for what felt like an eternity before I found a way to shift topics a bit. I asked him what he plans to do with this time since he doesn’t intend to work. His response was that he didn’t really have a plan and he intended to just go wherever life takes him. Let me tell you, for me, there’s no bigger turn off than lack of ambition… not that I wasn’t already turned off by the date as a whole up to this point. Again, I let it slide and continued to be the kind and open-minded person that I think I am … until a group of four guys headed our way about 45 minutes into the date. 

Turns out they were his golf buddies that he was intending to meet up with after our date. After about 15 minutes of endless talk about God knows what with team pretentious, I insisted on leaving. Vince tried to convince me to stay, but I could think of about a million things I would rather do, among them was watching the grass grow and maybe even starting the seven-page International Entrepreneurship paper I had due the following week. He seemed a little hesitant to leave his seat… and then this comes out of his mouth:

“Alright, well why don’t I call you an Uber then?” Couldn’t even sacrifice 20 more minutes of his time with his precious golf buddies to drive me home. 

“I can just call on myself, it’s fine.”

“No, I insist!” He tried to sound like he was doing me a favor.

So the Uber showed up about 5 minutes later and Vince wanted to show me just what a gentleman he was by walking me out to the car. He opened the door to the car for me and tried to lean in to kiss me, but I hardcore shut it down by jumping into the car as fast as I could. Little does he know I took that Uber through the Cook Out drive-thru on the way home to make sure to up the cost, not that this trust fund baby would even notice. 
I’ll admit, I was never expecting too much from this date. I know they always say don’t judge a book by its cover, but so far, Tinder has proved that people tend to be what you think they are. Take this guy for instance; his first picture was a shirtless gym picture, the second one was him with some friends at a club… pretty much just radiating “douchebag” potential as I swiped though. Setting the bar pretty high for world’s worst dates. 

So Vince, if you ever see this, thanks for taking the hint and not calling me after this dreadful evening. I appreciate not having to make up an excuse why I’m too busy to go out with you again.


2 thoughts on “The Trust Fund Baby

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