The Time I Wished I Had Been Lemon Lawed
If you were a fan of How I Met Your Mother, you surely know and love many of the completely fucking batshit scams that Barney Stinson would invent to avoid ever having to actually behave like a human being. While watching someone perpetrate deranged antics onscreen is an intensely satisfying experience, patterning your life on the actions of a fictional low-key asshole of this ilk is probably not your fastest path to living your best life.
Barney had an entire Playbook (and now you can too! Merchandising!) full of creative shit you should probably not actually do, but it also included at least one not totally deranged, and, dare I say it, sensible entry: the "Lemon Law," which is, as stated in the gif above: From the time the date starts you have 5 minutes to decide whether you are going to commit an entire evening. And if you don't it's 'No hard feelings, good night, thank you for playing, see you Never'.
This....seems kinda legit to me. I mean, it's more extreme, but it is also a more expedient way to achieve what I personally consider to be the most generous way to navigate this minefield of burning trash that we know as online dating: stay for one drink, and then if you're not feeling it, decline to get another, or to further waste either of your time, and end the date. This will allow you each to decompress from the disappointment of yet another meh attempt at romance with copious wine and sushi (or whatever else blows up your skirt, I don't know your life).
That said, you should almost definitely feel like an irredeemable asshole if you ever actually, in life, invoke the Lemon Law the way they do on the show (jumping up, yelling LEMON LAW and running the fuck away); however the sheer shock and hilarity of having this actually happen to me, coupled with the relief I would have felt to have an hour of my life restored to me, would have been so utterly preferable to dutifully drinking my single drink with Harvard Lawyer Eggplant, all the while screaming silently, in my soul, that I seriously wish he had Lemon Lawed me for reals.
He did not, of course, having just slightly too much decency to prevent it. But oh, how I wish he had!
What circumstances could cause me to say such a thing? I thought you'd never ask!
I arrive to the appointed bar a few minutes early, to save myself the anxiety of attempting to locate a person I have only seen in pictures from amongst a throng of equally strange strangers. Right on time, he comes up behind me, saying my name in that particular tone that alerts anyone within earshot that an Internet date is commencing, so they can keep an eye out for fireworks in case shit goes south. I turn to him and slap him full in the face with one of my most winning smiles.
Immediately I can tell something is off. His face is not smiling. It is arranged in an expression that in retrospect I have dubbed "panicked dismay" and/or "raccoon with leg chomped in bear trap." We both power past this and he buys himself a drink (I already had one) and instead of sitting down next to me at the bar, like a nice normal human, he wants to go sit off to the side in a booth.
With some level of anxiety I slide myself into this booth across from him, and attempt to put the inevitable fist-meeting awkwardness behind us and see what this dude is all about. About 30 seconds after I finish accomodating my ass on the luxury pleather I tumble face first into a mountain of bullshit.
Harvard Law Eggplant sits there across the booth, looking slightly disconcerted in an aloof and condescending way pretty much the entire time. He declines entirely to drink his drink, but does remember to mention Harvard Law school approximately 750 times.
I discover that, in addition to clearly not feeling me, he is also just a terrible human. In addition to a whole heap of elitist asshattery we have kindly abridged for you, dear reader, about 20 minutes into this trainwreck, he asks me the following: "what, that is currently illegal, would you do if you knew you could get away with it 100% with no fear of reprisal"
sidebar: later they would make a movie based on exactly this premise, entitled "the Purge", and I would always wonder if Harvard Law Eggplant had anything to do with it. Maybe this is why I never made it to the theater to surrender money to see it.
and though the question itself alarmed me, I gamely answer something like, "I dunno, smoke weed" or some nonsense, and his answer was, goddamn steal shit and FUCKING MURDER PEOPLE.
We immediately careen into a discussion about what exactly the fuck is wrong with him and I discover, to my revulsion, that his problem is he views all of humanity as inherently and universally evil; contends that humans refrain from constantly running around sewing discord and strife solely because it is illegal, and if it weren't he imagines we would all be living in some dystopian Mad Maxx hellscape in which everyone is assholes and all kindness is seen as manipulative, deployed only as a means to acquire some sort of goal, and never for any reasons less nefarious.
I find him snide, condescending, grasping, greedy, devoid of scruples, and gross. I cannot for the life of me imagine why he would have swiped on me in the first place, since clearly my face wasn't doing it for him, and he certainly has no time for my personality.
Shortly after he proudly unfurls his Misanthropy flag and vomits all this venom onto me, (scoffing, of course, at how naïve I am for disagreeing), I drain what is left of my drink (as his still stands untouched) and we finally get the fuck out of there.
I cannot believe this human stole an entire hour of my life. If he had just been so kind as to lemon law me from jump, I would have had my preferred amount of time tofling myself onto my bedroom floor, and adequately devote myself to despairing of ever managing to suffer the kaleidoscopic shitstorm we call dating long enough to find a nice man, whilst drinking an entire bottle of wine through a straw. As you do.
I still managed to do it, of course. But like. A girl does hate to be rushed.