The Date from Hell
Mood:  don't ask
Now Playing: Sum 41
So a buddy of mine says he has a co-worker he’d like me to meet and he proceeds to tell me all about this guy Mark. My first thought is “Slick, he has the same name as my ex husband--it’ll be easy to remember in case I ever end up shouting it during sex.” I know that sounds horribly shallow of me, but truly, it is something to consider. I had an ex who once shouted my name during sex…with his new girlfriend who quickly became his ex girlfriend in record time. Ever since then, I am paranoid that one day, due to an arbitrary wrinkle in time or a odd juxtapositioning of the earth’s axis, I might find myself in a position where I am screaming Poncho Villa or Coach English at an inopportune moment.

Mark sounds pretty good: former football player, 6’8”, 29 years old, has a real job…all good starting points. Matt sends me some pictures of him and I think “Damn spanky! He’s beyond sweet looking!” So I give Matt the go ahead to give him my cell number.

Mark calls the next day. He’s pretty funny. Bonus. He’s traveled all around Europe. Double bonus. After a few phone calls that go really well, we decide to do an in-person and meet up at a local sports bar downtown for some noshes and suds.

I’m pretty stoked heading into it. He seems super cool, but then again so did Bryan the fur-encrusted, snot excavator with TMFP…

So I arrive at the bar and he’s already there. First impression? That the pictures I saw were from a long, long time ago and perhaps of his much better looking twin. The football player physique so evident in the photos is evidently missing in person. We’re not talking fat on muscle. That I can handle. In fact, that I actually kind of like on a guy. We’re talking fat on fat. He was like a ginormous marshmallow all white and squishy.

I sit down and we order drinks. I order a Guinness—my preferred beer—and Mark says “Wow. I thought only guys drank Guinness.” WHAT?! So I give him the scathing look at about 5% intensity. He starts stuttering about how girls don’t usually like beers with ‘character’. I reply “I lived in London for a year—there’s not an import beer that I haven’t been intimate with.” He then proceeds to order a Mai Tai. A fricking Mai Tai! You have no idea how close I came to saying “I though only chicks and gay men in banana hammocks drank Mai Tais” but I resisted the urge as the evening was young and already off to a rather shaky start.

Our drinks arrive and we continue chatting. Pretty soon, I notice something odd. Mark in person is totally different than Mark on the phone. As in 180 degrees different and in an extremely annoying and creepy way.

Where was the super cool guy? In his place was a really strange guy who kept saying really weird shit. How freaky you’re wondering? He was acting like a black girl. Seriously. The 6’ 8” white boy had morphed into a sistah. For reals. It started out with him saying odd racial things like “my niggah” which doesn’t float with me. I bring up the fact that I am not comfortable with that kind of language and he says that he grew up in the projects in Chicago and has black friends so he’s an “honorary”. Honorary? I didn’t know there was such a thing except maybe Eminem...But it doesn’t end there. Pretty soon he is doing the round the world snap and saying “Oh no you di-n’t” and calling me “girlfriend”. I was so floored I didn’t know what to say! (And that's huge for me--I ALWAYS have something to say) I finally asked him if he was nervous (as I can be rather overwhelming in person) and he just looked confused...

Needless to say, I cut the date short. He insists on walking me out. He wants to walk me to my car and I’m all shades of oh no you wo-ent! I tell him thanks for an interesting evening (tongue in cheek but it sounds like I'm being polite) and go to turn away when he grabs my arm, spins me around and attempts to swap spit with me. OMG!!! Are you kidding me?! I deftly feint left and he ends up licking the side of my face—UGH!!!

I bail to my car faster than I thought myself capable in 4 inch platform shoes and speed off into the night with a major case of the heebie jeebies! All I could think was MUST WASH FACE!!!!

This morning, I get a text message. It’s from the big girlfriend himself and it says “Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m beautiful.” As if I couldn’t…

At this rate, my next date is going to be a hermaphrodite chainsaw juggler with multiple personalities…

Posted by azcoolchick0 at 5:32 PM NZD | Post Comment | Permalink
Updated: Tuesday, July 12, 2005 9:17 AM NZD