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Thursday, March 4, 2010

Bad Date

Back when I was living in Houston, still a virgin and not dating much, Walter and I met at a New Years Eve party. It was one of the first times I got drunk (I lived a very sheltered childhood) so when he called to ask me out, I had no recollection of him. He mentioned that he got my number from my friend who hosted the party. So I politely asked for his number and said I would call him back.

I called my friend –
Me: Who is this guy, Walter?
Her: His family is a friend of my family; I’ve known him for years. You don’t mind that I gave him your number, do you?
Me: No… I just don’t remember him.
Her: REALLY?? You two talked for hours in the living room, the family room, on the stairs, the kitchen and then outside. He said y’all had some real chemistry.<
Me: Huh…
Her: You seriously don’t remember him? Damn! You were drunk!
Me: *snicker* Well, is he nice? I mean… can I trust him? He wants to take me on a date.
Her: He’s totally nice and he wouldn’t hurt anything. What’ve you got to lose? Take a chance!
Me: What does he look like?
Her: You really were drunk.
Me: Yeah. What does he look like?
Her: Dark brown hair, brown eyes, pale skin, crooked teeth... I donno, like a guy.
Me: *eye roll* Okay… well as long as you say he’s okay, I guess I’ll give it a go.

He arrived at my house with flowers. I don’t like cut flowers, but it was sweet and he didn’t know. He smelled of very strong chemically cologne and was really awkward talking to me at the door. But I thought, hey, I'll still have fun, right?

He decided that for our first date (his words), he’d take me to his favorite restaurant. It was an hour away. It was an uncomfortable, long drive and I insisted rolling my window half way down so I could breath past his cologne even though it was quite chilly. I tried to start a conversation several times, but all his answers were monosyllabic. His hands were tight knuckled around the steering wheel and he never once looked over at me, keeping his focus on the road. It was kinda sweet that he was so anxious. I was a pretty awkward and nerdy girl myself so I found it flattering that I could make someone so nervous. (Even still, I kept wishing I’d brought a book.)

The restaurant was a seafood joint in Galveston. At that time, I hated seafood. The place was loud, our table was in the middle of the room where there was no chance of talking (which may not have been a bad thing) and it was big enough to sit a party of ten. After a mostly silent ride, he suddenly became talkative and shouted stories about the other times he'd been to the restaurant and how his parents have a second house in Galveston that he's been known to crash at and the crazy parties he and his friends have thrown over the din. He spoke with his mouth full and he chewed with his mouth open. He also did the heinous thing of ordering for me. The only thing I would eat, was the salad. He shouted, really loud, "You on a diet?" Irritated as hell, I got up to go to the bathroom and, as I walked past his seat, I whispered, "I don't like seafood." When I came back to the table, he had his food in a doggy bag and had paid the bill.

I thought, "good, now he'll drive me home."

Yeah... not so much. He had planned the evening and nothing, not even my irritation and discomfort, was going to disrupt his plan. He drove me to the beach. In his trunk was a case of wine-coolers, a blanket and, when he shook out the blanket, a box of condoms flew out and hit my foot. He grabbed them, tossed them quickly back into the truck and slammed it shut. (I think he thought I might not have noticed what they were since it was dark.) He offered me a wine-cooler and said, "I thought we could sit out and watch the stars.

Without a word, I walked to the passengers side, got in the car and strapped on my seatbelt. I refused to get out and insisted he drive me home.


Now, whenever I have a bad date, I always think, "at least it's not a Walter."

Addendum: When I was talking to my "friend" about it, she confessed that she was glad that his attention had shifted to me because he had been stalking her since elementary school. She then said some other things that shook my memory about the party. The reason we went from room to room then outside was because he would not stop following me. I then recalled that at the party we didn't talk much, he just sat there staring at me.
(Huh, if only I knew then what I know now, I could've had my first slave boy!)

1 comment:

RudePrincess said...

That is a great great story!! Not that it was great for you. But great that you could learn from it. And I am happy you shared it with me because I certainly needed a laugh this evening!