04.11.06

The Blind Date from Hell

Posted in Rants, Tee Hee at 3:18 pm by Adriene

(I know a lot of you have probably heard this story before, but I’ve gotten a few requests to put it down here for everyone’s enjoyment.)

We’ve all had them. Bad set-ups by supposed friends of ours where the date (who is supposed to be a “sweet guy”) turns out to be either Dudley Moore’s long-lost twin brother or is missing the majority of his teeth. In some cases, the guy looks and sounds perfectly normal at the beginning, but as the date progresses, you begin to slowly come to the realization that the guy is either a few melons short of a fruitbasket, a stalker, or just WEIRD.

Such was the case with my blind date from hell. Picture it: Spring of 1996. I had broken up with my boyfriend a couple of months before this unfortunate incident, and one of the girls I worked with at my after-school job said she was waiting the appropriate time before approaching me about going out with one of her guy friends who she thought would be just “perfect” for me (Red Flag #1). I figured, heck, why not - a girl’s gotta eat, right?

So, she put me in contact with her friend. We spoke on the phone once or twice and set up a date - we’d go out to eat, then to a movie, and maybe get some coffee afterwards. Sounded perfectly harmless, and he sounded fairly normal, so I agreed to go forward with it.

Later that week, he shows up at my door to pick me up. As I opened the door, I immediately realized that this guy was probably not my type. I guess because my friend at work knew I was a cheerleader, she figured I’d go for the football-jock type. Considering the two guys I’d dated prior to this probably fit the “tortured artist” stereotype (a fact she was well aware of), I wasn’t too keen on the idea of going out with a “jock” (I mean, at least not a football player. She could’ve set me up with a baseball-type guy or a swimmer, and I would have been all over that. :lol:) But, I figured, oh well, why the heck not. I might be pleasantly surprised.

So, we get in his truck and drive to the restaurant where we’d agreed to eat before the movie. The drive seemed pleasant enough, with us chitchatting a little about school, our friends, etc. I began to relax and enjoy myself.

I started getting on edge again, though, once we reached the restaurant. As soon as we walked in the door, my date demanded that in addition to putting our name on the wait list, that he get a cold glass of sweet tea to drink while we waited. Now, that, in and of itself, wasn’t too weird. It was his tone when he addressed the hostess - like she was dirt and there to serve only him. I filed that in the back of my mind and decided to ignore it for the time being. Then he started getting a little testy when he had finished his first glass and started cursing under his breath that she hadn’t reappeared to refill his glass yet. Mind you, we hadn’t even sat down to eat yet.

So, as we sat down to eat, I was already a little uneasy again. I slowly began to realize that we probably didn’t have a lot of the same interests (he said his favorite musical style was country and that he “really liked that ‘Achy Breaky’ song.” At the time, if you’d looked in my CD player at home, you would’ve probably found U2, Live, and Better than Ezra). So, I began to withdraw slowly from the conversation and started using a lot of “yeahs” and “mmm hmmm’s.”

At least, I figured, we were going to the movies. I wouldn’t have to talk to him there. So, it was with great pleasure as I took my seat in the movie theater (I can’t remember what we went to see, but I was trying to be enthralled with it so I wouldn’t have to talk to him). Now, before I continue with this part, let me explain to you a rule that I had when I was dating: if it is our first date, and I don’t know you from Adam, DO NOT TOUCH ME. PERIOD. Do not try to hold my hand, put your arm around me, and don’t you DARE try to touch me anywhere else.

Well, my bud here decides to put his arm around me about ten minutes into the movie. He did the whole “yawn move” and everything. Give me a freaking break. So, there I sit, trying to figure out how to get myself out of this predicament without sounding like a harpy. AHA! I’ll use the oldest excuse in the book! I politely excused myself to the ladies room. I stood in the ladies’ long enough for him to think I had actually gone there for a purpose, then walked back into the theater. Maybe, just maybe, he won’t try to put his arm around me again.

WRONG. As soon as I sat back down, the arm was firmly clamped around my shoulders again. So, I bit the bullet. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t really know you all that well, and I really don’t think it’s appropriate that you have your arm around me yet.” He kind of looked a little flustered, but the arm got removed and we watched the rest of the movie in a rather uncomfortable silence.

After the movie was over, all I wanted to do was go home. Much to my chagrin, the guy suggested that we go and get some ice cream before he took me home. Grudgingly, I agreed. I mean, after all, I didn’t want to seem like a total witch.

We got our ice cream and sat down. I was trying to chat politely with him, but at the same time, trying to give him the “hint” that this was probably not going to go anywhere. Suddenly, I became aware that he was moving towards me with a napkin in his hand, aimed somewhere in the vicinity of my mouth. Before I can say anything, he wipes the napkin at the corner of my mouth in what I can only assume he thought was a tender gesture. “You had some ice cream on the corner of your mouth,” he said, smiling. HE HAD VIOLATED MY RULE!!!! I sat there with my mouth open, and tried to think of something to say to him that didn’t make me sound like the Bitch Queen of 1996. “Um, you could have just told me, you know.”

So, we get back in the truck and he starts to (FINALLY) drive me home. At this point, I’m done talking. All I want to do is get home, go to bed, and sleep this whole thing away. He, however, starts yammering away 90 miles a minute, and all I want to do is just get out of the car as fast as I can. As he pulls up to my house, he turns to me and says “Well, here we are.” “Yeah,” I reply. “Here we are. Thankyouforthenicetimeandgoodnight!” I bolted from the truck and got inside before he could try anything.

See, you would think that might have given him the hint. Nope, not this guy. He calls me at home the next day asking if we wanted to go out again. Luckily, my mother intercepted the call and already knew the story, and she politely told him that I wasn’t available (Heh - not quite true, I was in the house, just asleep), and that she didn’t think that I would be available to go out again any time soon.

But this guy was undaunted! He called me at WORK (where it was already awkward with my friend who set us up). I had to make countless excuses that customers needed to be waited on, so I couldn’t talk to him at that point. Then it got weirder.

He started showing up at the bookstore where I worked to make puppy-dog eyes at me over the display racks. I made as many excuses as possible to be in the storeroom if he was there (including the dreaded processing of incoming orders!). Finally, the store owner had had enough and asked him to leave and not come back if he wasn’t planning on buying anything (have I mentioned that my boss was a wonderful man?).

So, there ya have it, folks. The blind date from hell/stalker story of my life. Looking back, yeah, I probably should have been a bit more understanding and nicer to him. However, my behavior probably explains why a lot of my guy friends told me that I intimidated guys back then.

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