Comic-Con just wrapped up last weekend and, with The Avengers recently raking in over $600 million, it’s pretty clear that we’re in the middle of an enormous superhero renaissance. When I was a kid, I used to read She-Hulk comics. I know, I know, I would laugh at me, too. But I think it was better for me as a 9-year-old boy to be ogling a huge green woman instead of muscle-bound men in tights.
I wouldn’t say I had a crush on She-Hulk (that’s Jennifer Walters to you), but I wouldn’t kick her out of bed. Actually, I couldn’t. She would crush me. Outside of her, though, I don’t think I’d want to spend much time with superheroes or their human alter-egos. In fact, I think they’d be terrible to take out for a meal. Here’s my list of the worst superheroes to take to a restaurant on a date:
Have you seen this guy in restaurants? He’s a mess. He goes out with multiple supermodels, falls into fountains, and acts like a dick to everyone. It doesn’t matter that he owns the restaurant. You still can’t act like that. Sure, he’s a billionaire playboy, but when was the last time you heard “billionaire playboy” and “nice guy” in the same sentence? Your dinner may be at the best restaurant in town, but that doesn’t really excuse the fact that you have to listen to him talk about his yacht the whole time. Alfred, on the other hand, would be a perfectly lovely date.
The good news is, he comes with his own cutlery. The bad news is, he can’t use anything to eat besides his adamantium claws. It’s just off-putting to watch a guy eat off his claws, you know?
She may be an Avenger, but she’s called Black Widow for a reason, dude. This lady will take you down. She sees right through your lines and even a few Moscow Mules won’t loosen her up. This is a woman who can fight off ex-KGB agents while tied to a chair. Even if you’re up for danger, it’s not a good idea. Besides, she’s going to be really picky about what she eats so she can fit into that leather Avenger get-up, so you’ll most likely be stuck at salad joints to make her happy.
“Oh, have I told you about my Lasso of Truth?” This question comes up at least four times a night when you’re out with Wonder Woman. It’s almost always followed up by “Do you really like me?” and then you’re all tied up in the stupid lasso and you’re forced to tell her you’re dating her because she looks hot in boots. If she had a little more confidence, it might be a good date, but that woman has a superhero-sized daddy issues that she can’t leave behind. I guess that makes sense when you’re the daughter of Zeus.
The Incredible Hulk/Bruce Banner
The date’s going wonderfully. You’re drinking nice wine and talking about particle physics when all of a sudden the entrees come out and the sauce is not on the side of his chicken marsala even though he explicitly asked for the sauce on the side. Uh-oh. Your nice date just turned into a nightmare as the Hulk destroys the dining room. Nothing takes the fun out of an evening more than your date morphing into a terrifying creature of doom. At least that’s what my grandma always used to say.
You know she’s a villain, right? That’s just asking for trouble – especially when she’s been known to slash up a dude’s back in the middle of their, um, catnap. Besides, she only eats at places that serve tuna so you’re kind of limited in your options. Why don’t you give Vicki Vale a call instead? I hear she’s available.
If you’re looking for the most boring date of all time, here’s your guy. He only orders steak and potatoes. He only drinks milk. He only tips ten percent. This guy is stuck in the early 20th Century and your date will feel like you’re stuck there with him. The worst part is, he won’t even leave his super shield in the Edsel, so the staff keeps tripping over it when they walk by and you end up getting terrible service as a result. It’s just not worth it.
Sure it seems like a good choice to go out with Clark because of his all-American looks and penchant for saving lives, but this dude will run out on you ALL THE TIME. It’s messed up. You’re in the middle of a nice dinner down the street from the Daily Bugle and, all of a sudden, Clark’s like “I’ve got to make a call…” and he runs into a phone booth and never comes back. Yeah, right, Clark. Like you’re the world’s only reporter who doesn’t have a cell phone. The worst part is, he’ll leave you to pay the bill. What a jerk.
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