So it goes: boy meets girl, boy takes girl on date, boy and girl fall in love. That first date parades a menagerie of emotions: anxiety, excitement, and the anticipation of what may come to pass. You begin piecing together who the the person sitting across from you is through casual conversation and funny anecdotes shared. Slowly, you both realize your feelings for each other, yet bottle these emotions hoping not to appear too eager. The night ends with a warm embrace, dainty good night kiss, and second date plans already in the works. You skip back to your car, head reeling, unable to keep your feet grounded. The date was perfect. But what happens when a first date spirals from awful to unbearable leaving you yearning to run like hell for the nearest exit without so much as a backwards glance? I recently endured one such date and am compelled to turn it into literature!
For those of you who read my blogs... I unfortunately endured a month long membership on a little dating website called match.com. I met some real "winners" and when one potential relationship went utterly wrong, I removed myself from the embarrassment and promised to find love the old fashioned way; by actually going out! One gentlemen I had chatted with a few times on the site seemed really interested in me, so long after I closed the doors on match.com, I kept a window opened for him. He was attractive, well spoken, educated, and a bartender/drummer (for some reason I am a sucker for musicians)! Our completely opposite schedules and living circumstances offset an actual meeting, but never the chemistry. Finally, after months of flirtation and conversations we planned on a first official date. I felt all of the fore mentioned emotions with the hopes this might lead down a happy road. Boy was I in for a treat.
Any initial first date in which I am unfamiliar with the person, I like to take my own car. (Just in case he has corpses stashed in the trunk or a pull out bed displayed in the back seat.) My particular gentlemen was persistent on actually picking me up, but instead I gave him the restaurant directions. I arrived fashionably late to find him sitting at the bar happily chatting with the young, cute bartender. When he turned upon my entrance, I was delighted to find his photos had not lied. His curly black hair ascended around his piercing dark eyes that were completed by a killer smile. Then he opened his mouth...
"Oh my God! It is like so finally nice to meet you! You are like soooooooooooooooo pretty!" Wow, I truly did not expect that voice to come out of that body!
"Oh, ugh thanks! Nice to meet you as well," I mustered back stunned.
Why did he feel the need to slap on a thick "girly" accent? Was I suppose to swoon? I took a sit and ordered my drink as we began to start the real "getting to know you" process that usually occurs on a first date. For this he seemed completely normal as we chatted about his band, my family, and our jobs. I listened intently and decided to side step his "Welcome" greeting until disaster number two struck.
I picked up my refreshing mojito for a sip when all of a sudden I felt two hands slide aggressively up and down my legs. I turned to find his body practically in my lap and his face only centimeters from mine. "You are like soooooooooo pretty," he whispered in my ear the way a pedophile might call over to a small child. Of course he then proceeded to take my hand and scoop it into his wide opened mouth, lightly biting down on the clenched fist I had made out of shear frustration. I withdrew my hand so fast his teeth actually penetrated skin. I attempted a conversation after to keep his mouth busy when the topic changed from appropriate to sexual.
"You know... I'm really good at getting girls off. There are never any complaints I do it all of the time!" Are you trying to prove to me or yourself that you like girls?
"Oh well that's nice," I said quite quickly. I could see the bartender studying the writing on my face; I was mortified! My date decided that this conversation needed to be shared with more people though, so he gaily relayed his sexual escapades to not only the bartender but other patrons trying to enjoy their happy hour cocktails without a side of cock-stories.
I took a large gulp of my mojito praying Jesus Christ would miraculously turn it into something stronger when the food arrived. Naturally, my date hand fed me sushi since I am clearly incapable of feeding myself. I don't mind being playful or flirtatious, but on a first date I tend to show off my motor skills by using them! After the sushi had met my lips his hands slide back down my legs ending with my hand yet again in his mouth for another tasty nibble (apparently the sushi was not enough for him). My feelings could not have been more plain had they been chiseled onto stone; how did he not read this? Finally we finished eating and his comments about the sushi being mind blowing were silenced. Still, he ordered another drink believing this date to be going exceedingly well.
"Do you want to know a secret?" He whispered in my ear as his hands found my legs again, "I think you are so pretty and I like you a lot. I have a van that folds down into a bed outside if you want after! You know you will leave satisfied with me!" The only thing that could satisfy me right at this point would be my bed... without YOU in it!
"Wow, it's getting late, I have work tomorrow, I really cannot tonight. I am tired enough as it is." I hoped he would buy this.
"Well, I don't want to leave you. Let's do something crazy.... let's go bowling!"
"I don't think so. I really need to get home."
"I drive all this way to see you and you just want it to end! I am hurt, but you are just sooooo pretty! Seriously... can we please go bowling?"
Thankfully the bartender had Sex and the City playing on the screens so in between prying this guys mouth off of my hand and declining his many bowling propositions, I happily got lost in the wild and crazy dating world of 4 New York women.
"Oh my God, I feel like you are not even here, like you are dating Sex and the City. I'm like on a date alone right now," he spout out when I so much as glanced in the TV's direction.
"I"m sorry," I said casually.
"I have a TV in my van too. I know you like Lord of the Rings so let's just go watch up to the part where Frodo leaves the Shire. Oh, I cry like a baby watching that movie; any movie really! Happy, sad... I just sob! We could do that or... go bowling!" He sang out to me in his expressive voice.
"It really is getting late for me and I have to drive home too. Let's call it a night"
With that said, he reluctantly paid the bill and I pushed open the heavy, glass doors to freedom. I saw his van parked in the distance devoid of lights or any sign of life. It was no mini van nor SVU, he actually drove a large camper. Apparently this vehicle can safely hold all of his musical equipment from one destination to the next. Clearly he anticipated a love session at the night's close. Suddenly his hands grabbed my entire face into his for that "Special Goodnight Kiss". As I pulled away, he brushed the hair out of my face and whispered, "You're hair is soooooo soft."
"Well thanks for dinner. Good night!" I shouted scurrying into my car. My jeep hit a bank of snow in my attempt to race away from the crime scene. A few minutes into my drive, I heard the familiar ring of my text message alert. "I'm behind you! Not sexually!" Mr. Date from Hell. A few moments later I received 3 more messages, "I felt like you did not even want to be with me tonight. I really like you. We would be great together. Why didn't you want to spend time with me?" Well let's see... you talked like a girl, kept touching me inappropriately, bit my hand several times, shared your sex life with everyone in the restaurant, and would not take no for an answer! Instead, I ignored them all feeling silence best for the present, and just drove home.
The next day I awoke to another message, "I guess we are not talking anymore!" Now, I have always been told to treat people the way I wish to be treated, so I answered him in a respectful manner...
"I appreciate you taking me to dinner and making time for me, but I don't want to lead you on and am sorry to say I am just not interested." There, I handled this with dignity and grace.
"Cool," he answered back. Game Over!
This date was like a guided tour of Dante's infamous, layered Hell. Deeper and deeper I was dragged down until I hit the icy bottom. I live my life with no regrets though and consider this to have been a night of learning. The growth and maturity I take away only enhances who I am. Plus, this adds some comical tales to my history. So, here are some things I learned on this date:
1. Always take your own car.
2. Wear scented hand lotion that leaves an awful after taste.
3. Treat others (no matter how perturbed) the way you want to be treated.
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