Friday, January 13, 2006

A Fatal Misstep

The date herself was not bad. Conditions beyond my control and outside my sphere of influence conspired to destroy any hope of enjoyment for myself and my date. It had been a year, over a year since an important relationship fell through, and I was just beginning to come out of hiding and start looking at women again. I was trying online dating, which many assume immediately lends itself to certain doom, but it was an idea I could grasp at the time, and something I had enjoyed trying previously. After a few weeks of tweaking my online profile, I was in contact with a lovely lady and emailed for about a week. Our first date rolled up and she seemed very nice, attractive, and creative. Carless as I was, she picked me up and we proceeded to the Laurelhurst Theater to see Bubba Ho Tep. Everything seemed great, I was finally "out there" again, my date and I definitely clicked, and we were about to watch an elderly Elvis beat the snot out of a cowboy/mummy. She parks the car. It was dark. I open the door. I swing a leg out onto the grassy knoll. My favorite boots, steel-toed vegan waffle-stompers, slide across a viscously solid heap of canine dung, detritus, animal waste, DOG SHIT. "Shit," I says. I tell her and she laughs good-naturedly, assuring me it doesn't matter and telling me it's more funny than anything. I do what I can by scrubbing my deep soles on mounds of grass, eyes keenly scanning the darkness for more treacherous mounds, but to no avail. I spend the 15 minutes before the movie desperately trying to clean out the waffle with my key in the stall of the bathroom, rinsing shit into the sink when no one else is in the john. The entire movie, every shift of my feet brings fresh clouds of shitstink wafting up from below, and I detect my nearby fellow movie patrons lifting their noses to the breeze at the detection of some foul presence in the air. I sweated like Rodney Dangerfield the duration of that film, certain that I would be thrown out and beaten by a cabal of angry moviegoers. How can one really appreciate Bruce Campbell when the smell of dogshit hangs static in a warm movie auditorium? She was cool. We went out a few more times, but that was it. Despite my love for wild and domesticated beasts, Portland dogs and their owners, whether responsible or not, were viciously and unapologetically cursed under my breath for many months to come. That is all.

"No problem. Try again. Fail again. Fail better."
-Samuel Beckett

The Potato Man

Ok so this is my BAD DATE! I responded to a personal ad, to a guy,
we'll call M, He's late 30's I am late 20's. He has very fair skin and
is not attractive but seemed very nice.He sent a few pictures and stated
that he was some bigwig that works with pro-athletes. I am a very
attractive police officer s,to protect myself when we spoke over the phone, I
asked him for his last name..(to find out if I am going on a date with a
serial killer). He sounds like a gentlemen and says his last name , but I
didn't understand it and after him saying it twice I just thought I would not
be rude, and agreed to meet him on our date.
I tell my girlfriends what I am doing (just in case) and pack my
weapon..before the date on the phone this guy is going on and on about
all the fancy things he gets to do and all the property he owns in Troy
Michigan...I really could care less (as long as you were nice and
didn't sponge off of your mom) but anyways he says to meet him at the
Somerset Mall PF Changs.. I arrive first and find out there is a 2 hour wait.So I
call him and ask did you make reservations? (i mean you said you were
this big hot shot) NOPE no reservations.. I already have the feeling that this
is not going to be a good date..
I am about to leave when he walks in. I tell him I am not waiting 2
hours to sit down and eat.. He says "don't Go" well find another place..So while
we are walking around the mall,, He is very "grabby" grabbing my waist
pulling me close to him says how GOOD we look together..(well of COURSE you
look good with me) all I could think was EWWWWW yuck, he didn't look like
his pictures at all!! He was a fat white guy, and I really believe he
lacked anything in his body to give him some type of color! He was bright red,
like he just went tanning before he came to meet me. So I am walking around
with this bloated red guy who has a dangley doubble chin.. so we are
wallking around and he says "do you want to go shopping? I buy you a purse" I
stated that I have a purse and I do not want him to take me shopping!
I wanted to eat!( I figure at least I can get dinner out of this) We find
ourselves at the marshall fields cafe..(ohh 5star) He orders a roast
beef sandwhich and mashed potates, I think I got a salad or something..Over
dinner conversation I ask him again what his last name is and with a
mouthfull he answers and again I can not understand..
I am tired of this so I ask him WHAT IS YOUR LAST NAME? He gets all
huffy and says WHY? I don't like to give my last name out to anyone, I am a
VIP and I have to protect myself from "moochers" I realize that this guy
is a BIG FRAUD! Why else would he not give me something as simple as his
name?? Then he started on with how rich and sucessfull he is, with a MOUTH
FULL OF MASHED potatoes,, He looked like a baby who was eatting solid food for
the first time! While dodgeing the little bits of potatoes and watching his
turkey neck swing back and forth..I told him that I had to be going..He
insited that he walk me to my car..I stated NO THANK YOU! and to be
more of a butt hole he wouldn't drop it, saying oh I want to make sure your
safe ,blah blah, blah so I finally told him..I will be safe I have a gun
leave me ALONE!!!
He called a few times and I had one of my good friends (who's a guy)
say he
was my brother and to not call there anymore...Thank goodness!!! No
more potato man!

Drunk Yuppie

I had this one memorable (!) date back in '89 that I still talk about at parties.
We met through a personal ad, and exchanged many different calls before we set a date to actually date. I was leery.. but he sounded so cute, and educated (he'd been to Georgetown, you know) and worked for DuPont and seemed stable and safe. Boy was that a stretch. We met at a nice inner-city pub that we'd both talked about. Quiet, dim-lit, and cozy. I was self-concious about being out late..Parking in the city was a bitch at night on a Saturday. But he sounded so worth it.
I showed up on time, and sat at the bar as planned. He arrived 20 minutes late. Dressed nicely, except for the converse hi-tops that seems outta place. He was visibly well on his way to being drunk, and instantly a charmer with his first "Wow.. you're a little BIG, aren't you?" quip.
He WAS cute. Handsome, really in that "my father's a doctor" waspy kind of way. But as the evening lingered he became more and more arrogant. What happens to the men who talk sweet on the phone, and then show up as the irritable drunked buttheads they really are?
I listened to his rants about his new RX-7 which he got for graduation..and how he'd actually been FORCED to go to Georgetown, having been thrown out of some other school. Daddy was an ass..but all was cool now, 'cause he'd landed this job at DuPont and was rakin' the suckers over for a huge salary that he didn't deserve.
Charming.
By the end of the already on-my-nerves date, he'd become SO intoxicated that I was afraid to let him drive home. I guess I deserve my punishment, since I wanted to do the right thing..and I suggested I drive him home.
He didn't want to go home..he didn't want to go home drunk (again) ..so of course, Polly-Anna here said: "Fine. You can stay overnight with me.. but NO funny stuff." He gave me that look that said: Honey, you're too fat for me anyway. So I guessed I was safe.
He'd drive, he said.
"Oh, no the hell you won't, sugar" I said. "If you could drive home, you'd be driving yourSELF home at this point, so get in".
He didn't want to drive in a Buick, he said.. and besides - he wasn't leaving his RX-7 in the city.
Fine. I told him I'd drive HIS car to MY place, and that he could take it or leave it.
He was passed out cold in the passenger seat when I arrived home a half an hour later. I decided to let him sleep in his car, until he woke up.. which was noon the next day. He woke up, rang the bell and asked me if I let him sleep out there all night (duh!) and did I have a good time? I just gave him a look of disgust. He then asked if I knew how to get to the interstate from .. where was he?
I said: Down the street, left on Main at the light, and go *&^*# yourself.
I rolled my eyes, and slammed the door and just laughed at my luck.