Bad dates are like a rite of passage into adulthood. If you have not gone on at least one bad date, then how will you know when you have gone on a great one? And let me be perfectly clear, you can go on an awful date with a great person and still have a wonderful time. For instance, you can get a flat tire on your way to a movie, but have a fun time learning how to change it. I am a big believer in the notion that who you are with makes a situation either better or worse. The kind of date I am talking about is the kind where you begin to question your decision making skills for even agreeing to go somewhere with this person in the first place.
To start off the story I must first discuss the state I was in when I agreed to go out with Mr. CFNR (conceited for no reason). I was a freshman in college and at this point had not been on a date since summer, was feeling like a bit of a loser and was spending a lot of time on Facebook. Mistake numero uno.
Mister CFNR was a mutual friend. He messaged me, saying that he thought I was cute and asked if I wanted to go out to dinner and a movie. I thought to myself okay, why not, I have nothing else better to do. I went ahead and gave him my phone number and address, so he could pick me up. I know, I know, I’m lucky that this encounter didn’t end in a Dateline special about why not to meet up with people you meet on Facebook. He would have been labeled The Facebook Killer and would have pre-dated The Craigslist Killer by two years. Maybe then I would have gotten my own Lifetime movie.
When it was about ten minutes before he is to arrive at my house he begins texting me about how he can’t find my house. This continues for the next twenty minutes, until I tell him to meet me at a local landmark he is familiar with, Coogan’s Bluff. Red flag. I park at the store and walk around to his car, which he does not get out of. I lean in to ask him what he wants to do because I do not want to leave my car at the shady corner store that may or may not also be a drug den. (As I think back on this, I probably looked like a dime store hooker propositioning a “client.”) He proceeds to tell me that because I gave him bad directions and he has driven around for over a half an hour, he wants me to drive. At this point I should have said, see ya later creep, but I felt bad. So, I follow him back to his house and he gets in my car.
I have put my purse in my passenger seat and he picks it up and throws it in the back seat. Immediately I apologize, but say it’s a habit. And he responds with some quip about how I must never have guys in my car if I leave my purse there. I think, duh, most guys don’t have you drive them around, but say nothing. As we proceed on our way to dinner, he keeps asking if he can pull the emergency break on my car when we go around turns, Tokyo Drift style. I respond that if he touches the e-brake, then he can walk home and I laugh jokingly. I am not joking though, I am quite serious.
When we get to the strip with various restaurants and the movie theater I begin to ask where he would like to eat. He responds with an adamant no to every suggestion and begins to say that because it took so long to get to my house, he didn’t want to spend a long time waiting to eat somewhere. We end up at Wendy’s. Don’t get me wrong, Wendy’s is my favorite fast food chain, but I’m pretty sure that taking someone there on a first date violates a few rules of dating etiquette. I order a combo meal with a medium sprite and take my seat across from him at the table.
This is where the real fun begins. He tells me all about how he is a basketball star at a local community college, but the coach is a jerk and doesn’t let him play. That is just typical right? Talented athletes are always being held back by coaches who don’t want to win games. Cue sarcastic cough. At this point, he tells me that he is a huge health nut and that’s why he ordered a water. He proceeds to say, “You wouldn’t believe all of the empty calories that are in that Sprite you are drinking,” and then gives me a look. You know the look. The you should probably stop drinking that now and go run a few laps around the car. In defiance of his criticism I drink the whole Sprite and say, “But it’s sooo good.” By this point in the evening, I am trying not to be outright mean to him.
When we finally walk into the movie theater, I ask which movie he’d like to see and mention that I think Vantage Point looks good. He tells me he just saw Semi-Pro and it was so great that he wants to see it again. So, we go to see Semi-Pro and apparently he has memorized parts of the movie. He keeps nudging me to tell me what is coming and “Oh this part is so funny!” I hate him and start plotting an escape. Because I drank an entire, calorie filled, Sprite I skip out to the bathroom. I begin thinking that I could just walk out and never go back, but then I would be that girl who abandoned her date at the movies. So, I walk back thinking that it’s not that bad and won’t be that much longer. “You were gone for a long time,” he so kindly points out. “I thought about getting popcorn, but there are too many calories, so I came back,” I smugly responded.
When we finally get back to his house and I put the car in park, he leans in for a kiss. Really, I think, after all of that. I do the customary dodge letting my cheek take the bullet. As I turn around, I see the garage door open and a creepy teenager standing there staring at us. I really don’t remember what he was doing, but every time I think back on it I picture him sticking a finger in his belly button with a dopey grin on his face. “Oh that’s just my cousin,” he says and honks the horn at him. I smile awkwardly at the both of them, just wanting him to get out of my car. “Well I have to go home now, so I won’t miss my curfew,” I hint. “Lame, who has a curfew in college,” he says getting out of my car. Not me, but if I have to lie to get a creep out of my passenger seat I will.
You would have thought that would have been the end of the experience, but no. He apparently likes girls who aren’t overly nice to him and put out the vibe of general hatred. He continued to text me over the next few weeks with things like:
“Hey big girl!”
“Hey there big girl, want to hang out?”
“I’m having a party, you should come Biggie Smalls!” (Okay, that one I made up, but you get my point.)
I was starting to get the vibe that he thought I was heavy. This just pissed me off because at 5‘2 and 110 pounds I am no Amazon woman. So, naturally I did what any other 19 year old girl would do. I un-friended him on Facebook, never responded to any of his texts and posted a picture of me in my bikini from spring break in Florida. Revenge is best served by a blonde in a bikini.
