February 13, 2003
The Disaster Dates
An On Display entry
This month's topic for On Display is to write about a disaster date that I have experienced. I really don't have a whole wealth of experiences to draw from, having never been the "dating" type. I married my ex right out of high school, and was single for only a couple of years after I split with him, before my relationship with Calvin.
However, in those couple of years, I did have a handful of dates. And of those dates, three in particular (with different guys) stand out as being rather unpleasant.
The first was a "guy from work" thing. He was a contractor working on my site, and was quite persistent in asking me out. I wasn't really interested, but I finally agreed to do dinner and a movie - out of sheer boredom, I suspect. My evenings as a single gal consisted of sitting in front of the TV, eating a plate of asparagus and talking to Gypsy, and going to bed at 9:00.
He picked me up in what turned out to be his roommate's car (a Camaro Z-28), because he deemed his to not be cool enough for the date. I drove a Camaro myself, and I guess he wanted to have a car that was at least as good as mine.
At any rate, we went to MiMi's Cafe for dinner. He proceeded to talk about himself for the ENTIRE evening - about how he was in band in high school, about how he thought carpets on walls were a good idea, about how fond he is of his cats. I mean, really mind-bogglingly dull stuff. I felt my eyes glazing over and my mind going numb, and was anxiously keeping an eye on my watch for when we could leave to make the movie and SHUT HIM UP. I mean, I'm not one to want to talk about myself all the time, but not ONCE did he ask me any questions or exhibit any interest in my thoughts or experiences. Which still would have been fine, if he had been interesting AT ALL to listen to.
Gah.
We went to see "Air Force One" - which I had actually just seen the night before with Archibael and his wife. And he proceeded to critique the movie the entire time... "I was in the Air Force, you know." "They'd never do that." "Oh, that's realistic." "That's not how it's done." Uh. Mah. Gah. I was leaning as far as I could in the opposite direction from him, and yet he kept leaning clear over my seat in order to "whisper" (and he wasn't) these tidbits of gripping information in my ear.
Gah.
Finally, the movie was over. He asked if I wanted to extend the evening, and I said I should get home. He seemed disappointed (what, did he think this was going well??), and by the time he pulled into my driveway I was just itching to get out of that car. He offered to walk me to my door, but I declined and extended my hand for a shake.
Oooh... burn...
He didn't call me after that, and our workplace interaction was limited to exchanged smiles when passing in the hallways.
Blech.
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A second instance I recall was when I agreed to go on a date with the guy who sold me my bicycle. He commented on how he thought it was cool that I wanted to get into mountain biking, not being into the wimpy "girly girl" type. I asked him if he knew of any good trails, and voila. A date was born.
Really, he seemed normal enough during that first brief introduction. But my suspicions were aroused when, on his way to my house to pick me up, he kept calling me from his cell phone and saying, "Houston, we are T-minus two minutes from landing." Uh, heh-heh, okay, cute. Then another call. "Houston, we are T-minus one minute from landing, coming on final approach." Uh, okay, whatever. Then another call, "Houston, we have mission control in sight, commencing with the landing." Then a knock on my door.
Geeb.
The ride itself was fun enough - he was holding back, I kept up, and he'd brought a picnic lunch to share up at the end of the trail. And yet, during that picnic lunch, he proceeded to regale me with his woes. He and his wife are splitting up, yet they still live in the same house. He has a one year old daughter. His wife is evil and never put out. He has needs, he's emotional, he needs to be take care of. And on. And on. And on.
Whoa, nelly! Red alert. Too much baggage.
So after the ride, we went back to my house to get cleaned up, then went to the local for some wings and beer. He had half of one beer, then claimed to be too buzzed to drive. I'd driven us there, so no prob. When we got back to my house, he insisted that we needed to stretch out on the living room floor after our exerting ride (not). The type of stretching that involves sitting on our knees with our legs folded under our butts, then leaning aaaaaalllll the way back until our shoulders touch the floor.
Yeah. Sure, buddy. I'm gonna do that.
He finally made motions to leave. We exchanged pecks, he stepped out, I closed the door behind him. Two seconds later, the doorbell rings. It's him, saying he's "still too buzzed to drive", and could he "stay a little bit longer"?
God. Whatever. I told him he was fine, and that I was going to bed (pointedly ignoring how his eyes lit up), and he needed to head home. Which he finally did, after making several attempts to appeal to my sense of guilt "if anything should happen" on his drive home.
By that time, I didn't frickin care if he wrapped his car around a tree.
The next day, he calls me. And the next. And the next. Wanting to know when we're going out again. I kept turning him down. Finally, one evening about two weeks after our original date, he called me while I was sorting through some newly purchased clothes that Archibael's wife and I had just obtained. We were planning on going out that night. When he asked if he and I could get together, I said, "My friends and I are going to dinner at Chili's."
Stupid, stupid me. He jumped on that, saying, "Great! I'll meet you there!" and hung up before the "NOOOOOO!!!!" building up on my lips could escape.
Good ol' Archibael. When this guy shows up, finally, and makes himself comfortable at our table, Archibael starts an exchange with him which ends up with him (the guy, not Archibael) being incredibly rude (I forget now what he said), providing us an out to go our separate ways for the evening. I feigned fatigue, stated that I was going home with Archibael and his wife, turned down his offer for "us to go do something, instead", and we high-tailed it outta there.
Then went dancing.
The phone calls continued for another couple of weeks. I really wasn't subtle in my disinterest. Finally, I said, "Look, you've got to understand. I'm just not interested in you. You need to stop calling me." To which he responded with a tirade along the effects of "I thought you were different," and, "You women are all alike". I believe the term "bitch" was used a few times.
Yeah, break my frickin' heart.
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The third one wasn't bad, exactly. And it wasn't a date, exactly. He was a co-worker, and we went out for dinner and coffee afterwards under the terms of friendship. It was just memorable because the guy I was with actually "came out" that evening. We were sitting at a lake-side table at a coffee shop (actually, the same coffee shop where Marie and I had that conversation). He started going down the path of how he's "so misunderstood" and how people are "so judgemental" and how he just wants to be "liked for who he is".
I told him he couldn't be afraid to be himself, and screw what other people think about that. I said that the person he needs to concern himself with making happy, is himself. I went along that vein for a while, and he sat a little straighter and nodded a little more emphatically. Finally, he said, "You're right, I'm not going to hide who I am any more."
And after that, he was openly gay. Where before, he had been emphatically not. Because, you see, we all could tell. We were just waiting for him to admit it. And he did, and he was happier, and he left the company a few months later to pursue his artistic goals.
No, I'm not being cliche. He actually wanted to be an artist, and went along the path of Engineering because he was in denial. What, are there no gay Engineers?
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All I can say is, I'm glad I didn't have to deal with the dating scene for that long. I completely hate it, I completely suck at it. If Calvin hadn't come along and been my perfect match, I would have given dating up as a bad cause and dedicated my life to single-hood. I swear.
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