Set Up with Control Issues Man

I've enlisted my friends for help with Prong Two. Mostly, this involves listening to hours of my complaining about the idiocy of the Horatios, which I appreciate very much. But also, some of my friends have gone even further by agreeing to arrange Set Ups with likely candidates. Don't think I haven't noticed your darty eyes and sweat-stained arm-pits when I've asked you set me up, you poor hapless Friends of ProngTwo. I get it: Set Ups are a risky business for everyone involved - things can go awry and then The Friend can get blamed for the results.

THEREFORE: I hereby promise not to blame you if your acquaintance from the ping-pong club turns out to be one of those guys who talks to his Mom seventeen times per day and spends the majority of the date explaining how my personality is substandard in comparison to hers. (I do not promise to refrain from writing about Momma's Boy here, though. If I have to sit through that crap, I reserve the right to make pithy remarks about it.)

Which leads me to... Control Issues Man (CIM).

I met CIM through my very obliging friend The Baker (Retired). The Baker (Retired) golfs with CIM's best friend. Conversations ensued, email addresses were forwarded and BAM... CIM and I were exchanging emails. So far, so good. Until the night of the date.

Conversation One (via phone)
Me: So... what time do you want to meet?

CIM: I'd like to watch some of the hockey game, so maybe a little later on?

Me: Yeah, that sounds great. After the game?

CIM: Possibly. Call me after the end of the 2nd period and we can discuss.

Me: Oh. Okay. Um... talk to you later.

Conversation Two (via phone)
Me [at 2nd intermission]: So, what do you think? Should we meet up?

CIM: Okay, let's meet at Gate 403 in my neighbourhood.

Me: Sure, sounds great.

CIM: How are you getting there?

Me: I think I'll drive.

CIM: Cab or transit is a better idea. I can tell you how to get there by transit.

Me: Oh, that's okay. I think I've got it.

CIM: So you're taking transit?

Me: Um... no. I think I'll drive.

CIM: Oh. Transit would be better. Or cab.

Me: ...okay... well. See you at 9:30ish?

CIM [sighing audibly]: No. How about you call me when you're close?

Me: uh... really? Okay.

Conversation Three (via phone)
Me [having parked my car]: So... I'm here.

CIM: Have you parked your car?

Me: ... yes.

CIM: Where did you park it?

Me [starting to get annoyed]: ... um.... on the street. On Roncesvalles.

CIM: Are you sure you're parked legally?

Me [in a forced cheerful tone]: YEP!

CIM: Did you check?

Me: Are you at the bar now? I'll just hang up and meet you!

Conversation Four (at the bar)
Me [gesturing with the straw from my gin and tonic]: ...blah blah blah, my job, blar de blar...

CIM: [reaches across the table, takes the straw OUT OF MY HANDS and places it on the table next to his drink] There. That's better.

Me: Oh. I'm sorry. Was I bothering you?

CIM: Yeah. I hate it when people fidget. Don't worry. It's not a big deal. I just won't let you have any more straws. And since you drove instead of taking transit LIKE I TOLD YOU TO, I guess you won't be having any more drinks anyway. So problem solved.

Me: ...

I hit CIM with GNTEP at the end of the date. He still suggested we get together again sometime soon and promised to call later that weekend. I was appropriately vague (progress!) Which is probably why he sent me an email later that week telling me that he thought we'd be better off as 'friends'. In accordance with Guideline Number Two, I didn't reply. Obviously.

So. Bring on the Set Ups, Bitches. Do you think you know The Dude? Or alternately, do you know someone who will make excellent fodder for a ProngTwo post? Shoot me a message and we'll hook it up, yo. No in-betweeners, though. It's the boring ones that kill me.