Murphy 2, SimplEnigma 0: The Starving Artist

I'm known for consistently dating the same type of guy: he's creative, involved in music, art, fashion, film, writing - pretty much anything where he's thinking outside of the box. Let's call this character The Artist. The Artist is the most speculative type of profession. Dating The Artist is like having stock in your portfolio: you could have big returns, or you could lose the whole shit in one fell swoop. The Artist comes in two main types (there are other minor categories, but these 2 make up about 90%):
The Ambitious Artist: he has a goal, is focused on what he wants to accomplish with his craft and takes active steps to do so. He's very talented, but he usually has an idea of the business side as well. He's pragmatic and most likely to give you big returns.

The Starving Artist: he's only focused on his craft and doesn't give diddly squat about the business side. His goal is to excel in his craft, and he doesn't care whether the rent is late or the bills aren't paid. He's spontaneous and will most likely make you lose all your shit.

So for a long time now I've been saying I need to diversify and date a dude who doesn't fall into the artist category....y'know, get some mutual funds (Mr. Corporate), fixed income (Mr. Blue Collar) and annuities (Mr. Born Rich) into the ol' dating portfolio. I recently had a humbling experience with a Starving Artist which makes me wanna take a new look at my investment strategy.

Before I begin, let me just say one thing about myself: I'm not motivated by money. The fact that a dude has little or no money isn't a dealbreaker for me. As long as I'm not paying aaaalll the time, I'm ok. A dude who is working toward a goal, or who is having a temporary financial setback isn't persona non grata to me. As you can see, this makes me a perfect candidate for a date with a Starving Artist. LOL.

So anyway, I'd met Starving Artist a while back, having seen him at some of the same events I frequent during the summer. We reconnected, he invited me out, I accepted.
"What do you have in mind?" I asked, sure he'd have some cute, quaint date in mind.
"I dunno, what do you want to do?" was the reply.

Strike 1. Don't call to ask me out and not have options. It's annoying. He agreed to call me back at 7:00 that evening to firm up plans.

7:00, no call. 7:15, no call. 7:30 no call. Strike 2. Finally at 7:35, he calls...and still has no suggestions of what we should do. After minutes of him hemming and hawing and me throwing out the options (for a date he invited me on, I might add), he agreed to my suggestion to meet at a local watering hole/restaurant for drinks and dancing.

I went there early to have dinner with a friend. He joined us later. He seemed to be quite popular at the place; he explained that he'd performed there many times before. Although his appearance was a little dirty hippie, his personality was very charming, and I liked that he was a multi-faceted person who'd travelled a bit and was talented in many different fields. He'd been taking a break from his artistry to "earn some money", which I interpreted to mean that he was Starving Artist striving to be Ambitious Artist.

We moved to the bar; all three of us ordered wine. Starving Artist downed his first glass in almost 2 minutes flat, and ordered another. It was then that I noticed that his teeth were a little messed up from smoking. Strike 2.5. Dude c'mon, you gotta have nice teeth. After his second glass of wine, he started to get antsy. Said he needed to go outside and have a smoke (of weed). Strike 4 (yeah that shit is worth 1.5 strikes, dammit!). You don't have a craving for weed at a restaurant, man, you just don't. In the meantime, Dinner Friend had paid for his two glasses of wine and left.

Starving Artist returned and had a third glass of wine. There was a party going on in a private room at the restaurant. He wanted to go dance. I wasn't ready to dance, so I told him he could go ahead, I'd join him later. He left, didn't inquire about the bill, offer to pay half or even acknowledge that he had a thought about it. Even then, I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. I figured he'd just smoked, so he'd forgotten, but would remember later and immediately try to rectify the situation. I'm a classy chick. I'm not gonna try to bawl a dude out in public to go halfsies. Nevertheless that was strike 5.

So I went to the dance floor and Starving Artist and I were getting our groove on. One of my old college friends who was there offered to buy me a drink. I felt it would be rude to accept a drink from another dude while I was on a date, so I declined. Starving Artist didn't offer to buy me a drink the rest of the night (Strike 6), although he did mention several times that "he was thinking about getting a drink". (I don't understand what big thought process goes into getting a drink). But I made no move to go to the bar, and neither did he.

So it's getting late; I remembered that Starving Artist had told me he lived in the Bronx and that he had a 12 p.m. appointment in Brooklyn the next day. I asked him if he'd be able to go home, make his appointment and get back in time. He said he didn't think he'd make the appointment. That was that.

I started feeling tired around 1:30 and told him I would be leaving soon. He didn't want me to go. I relented and decided to stay for a little bit, since I was really enjoying our conversation. During that time, I went to say hello to a friend's loser ex-boyfriend. He whispered, "be careful" in my ear before he left. I assumed he was talking about Starving Artist. You know it's bad when a bum loser is telling you to be careful. LOL. But I'm a sharp knife; I'd already picked up that Starving Artist was a moocher.

At 2:30 I decided I could fight sleep no longer. I told Starving Artist I was going to call myself a cab, and asked him if he planned to stay and dance longer.

SA: "Do you want me to come with you..." I wait expectantly for him to finish his sentence. He's looking at me like he expects an answer.

Me: "Well I'm waiting for you to finish what you were gonna say."

SA: "Do you want me to come with you (pause, pause, pause) to catch a cab."

Me: "Well if you're staying here, then there's no need to come. The cab will pull up right outside.

We sit there for a while just listening to music, then Starving Artist says, "Can I crash at your place tonight?" What?? Oh. Hell. No. At this point we're waaaaaaaaaay beyond strikes. Even his stimulating conversation couldn't have saved him then.

What I wanted to tell him was that there was a two-drink minimum. What I said was,"Well, you seem like a nice enough person, but I don't know you. This is our first time hanging out, so I don't feel comfortable having you crashing at my place."

He said it was ok, and he understood. I couldn't call a cab fast enough. He walked me to the door, I gave him a hug and went home. I don't know where he slept, nor did I care. The next day, Dinner Friend called to tell me that dude was notorious in the 'hood for being a shiftless mooching loser. Dinner Friend to the rescue! He gave me that info just in time. LMAO.

Murphy, you may have won the battle, but I'll win the war, dammit!

It's time to diversify...I think I'm gonna look into fixed income securities.