Bad Date #86
I worked with weird guy's mother. She was nice. Her son seemed nice. Kind of nervous. (At the time I thought it endearing.) Weird guy's mother convinced me to go out on a date with weird guy. I suppose I shouldn't give away the date by describing him as weird...
We went to the movies. Even though he lived in a small city which had two functioning theaters, he figured we'd drive an hour-and-a-half south to meet up with his sister and his sister's boyfriend. Odd. It was snowing. I would've preferred to stick around town, but whatever. This would give us time to talk and get to know each other. (Or opportunity to drive to the middle of nowhere and dump my body.)
So weird guy starts talking. And talking. And doesn't stop. I figure he's nervous. (Again, slightly endearing. I know. I needed professional help. I got it after this date.) So, weird guy is talking about his mom and his sister and things he did growing up and that the government wants everyone to be bankrupt and it's actually a good thing but they can't come right out and say it because then the government will get in trouble but that's why they send you all those credit card applications and his dad was filing for bankruptcy but before he does he's maxing out these credit cards to buy things and then the government lets you keep them and you don't have to pay for it because that's how it works and so now he's in the process of applying for all the credit cards he can and the trick is to do it all at the same time so they don't know you've gotten approved and that way you get more and hey - he just needs to stop at this gas station for a minute.
And he parks the car in front of the station that's all lit up in the dark of night and turns the car off and takes the keys and goes inside and I'm sitting there thinking, "Please hurry because it's like -12 degrees and it is cold out here and you turned off the heater." And I see him go up to the counter and ask for something and the guy turns and counts off scratch-off lottery tickets and gives them to weird guy and weird guy starts scratching them at the counter with a coin. And I'm waiting. Because it takes awhile to scratch off $20 worth of lotto tickets. And he must have won because look! He's handing tickets back to the guy and getting more.
And twenty five minutes later my feet were freezing and I was not finding this guy so endearing anymore.
He gets back in the car and starts talking again, never once mentioning the strange "I gotta scratch a ticket" thing that just happened, but whatever, at least I can feel my pinkie toe on my right foot again.
I remain absolutely speechless for the remainder of the ride which he didn't notice. But why would he since he didn't pause long enough for me to say anything during the first half of the trip.
We pull into an apartment complex and hoof it up to the second floor and over to a door which opens to reveal a very giddy girl who is just so excited to meet me! Who doesn't love a bear hug from a complete stranger? Come on in and take a seat and we'll just puff on this marajuana before we go.
WHAT?! Oh, yes.
Now I'm sitting there scared shitless because I don't know these people and what they're all into but obviously it's a little more than normal first-time-meeting-you activity and I really, really don't want to experience my first cavity search with giddy girl, and hey, newsflash - you can smell this in the hall you know. It's a quick call from the neighbors and I'm trying to explain to my mother why my date involved an aggressive legal defense attorney. The only thing getting me through at this point was knowing Christian Slater was starring in the movie and let me tell you, he really does make everything all better, no matter what situation you find yourself in. (This was before he went all thinning and bald and was arrested for grabbing some woman's buttocks in Manhatten.)
Once my hosts were all drugged up they pulled their coats on and started shoving items in their pockets. Bottles of soda. Bags of M&M's, Reece's Pieces, and other food items. As weird guy puts it, "They rob you at the theaters, you know. If everyone stopped buying their crap they'd lower the prices but people are too stupid." This obviously did not go over well with me -- the person who would pay exorbitant amounts of money for her precious movie theater popcorn. Whatever, weird guy. Christian Slater is waiting for me. Let's just get this over with.
And it wouldn't have been too bad if the three high people I was with had sat quietly munching their candy instead of throwing it at the movie screen. I literally sat there praying to God, "Please let us get kicked out of here so I can go home!" Other than the couple behind us telling them to knock it off nothing happened. So I sat there embarrassed and ashamed at being remotely associated with these idiots.
I don't even remember the ride back. I do, however, remember jumping out of the car before it was in park...
** Note: in case any, uh, "Just Looking Out For The Best Interest of Big V" people read this, please note this is an account of a bad date that happened in the past. In the way past. As in "long before I even knew Big V was walking the earth" kind of past. Please don't accuse me of dating guys on the sly because that's just not nice. (Yes, web friends, it has happened. That's why a note such as this is considered a necessity.)
We went to the movies. Even though he lived in a small city which had two functioning theaters, he figured we'd drive an hour-and-a-half south to meet up with his sister and his sister's boyfriend. Odd. It was snowing. I would've preferred to stick around town, but whatever. This would give us time to talk and get to know each other. (Or opportunity to drive to the middle of nowhere and dump my body.)
So weird guy starts talking. And talking. And doesn't stop. I figure he's nervous. (Again, slightly endearing. I know. I needed professional help. I got it after this date.) So, weird guy is talking about his mom and his sister and things he did growing up and that the government wants everyone to be bankrupt and it's actually a good thing but they can't come right out and say it because then the government will get in trouble but that's why they send you all those credit card applications and his dad was filing for bankruptcy but before he does he's maxing out these credit cards to buy things and then the government lets you keep them and you don't have to pay for it because that's how it works and so now he's in the process of applying for all the credit cards he can and the trick is to do it all at the same time so they don't know you've gotten approved and that way you get more and hey - he just needs to stop at this gas station for a minute.
And he parks the car in front of the station that's all lit up in the dark of night and turns the car off and takes the keys and goes inside and I'm sitting there thinking, "Please hurry because it's like -12 degrees and it is cold out here and you turned off the heater." And I see him go up to the counter and ask for something and the guy turns and counts off scratch-off lottery tickets and gives them to weird guy and weird guy starts scratching them at the counter with a coin. And I'm waiting. Because it takes awhile to scratch off $20 worth of lotto tickets. And he must have won because look! He's handing tickets back to the guy and getting more.
And twenty five minutes later my feet were freezing and I was not finding this guy so endearing anymore.
He gets back in the car and starts talking again, never once mentioning the strange "I gotta scratch a ticket" thing that just happened, but whatever, at least I can feel my pinkie toe on my right foot again.
I remain absolutely speechless for the remainder of the ride which he didn't notice. But why would he since he didn't pause long enough for me to say anything during the first half of the trip.
We pull into an apartment complex and hoof it up to the second floor and over to a door which opens to reveal a very giddy girl who is just so excited to meet me! Who doesn't love a bear hug from a complete stranger? Come on in and take a seat and we'll just puff on this marajuana before we go.
WHAT?! Oh, yes.
Now I'm sitting there scared shitless because I don't know these people and what they're all into but obviously it's a little more than normal first-time-meeting-you activity and I really, really don't want to experience my first cavity search with giddy girl, and hey, newsflash - you can smell this in the hall you know. It's a quick call from the neighbors and I'm trying to explain to my mother why my date involved an aggressive legal defense attorney. The only thing getting me through at this point was knowing Christian Slater was starring in the movie and let me tell you, he really does make everything all better, no matter what situation you find yourself in. (This was before he went all thinning and bald and was arrested for grabbing some woman's buttocks in Manhatten.)
Once my hosts were all drugged up they pulled their coats on and started shoving items in their pockets. Bottles of soda. Bags of M&M's, Reece's Pieces, and other food items. As weird guy puts it, "They rob you at the theaters, you know. If everyone stopped buying their crap they'd lower the prices but people are too stupid." This obviously did not go over well with me -- the person who would pay exorbitant amounts of money for her precious movie theater popcorn. Whatever, weird guy. Christian Slater is waiting for me. Let's just get this over with.
And it wouldn't have been too bad if the three high people I was with had sat quietly munching their candy instead of throwing it at the movie screen. I literally sat there praying to God, "Please let us get kicked out of here so I can go home!" Other than the couple behind us telling them to knock it off nothing happened. So I sat there embarrassed and ashamed at being remotely associated with these idiots.
I don't even remember the ride back. I do, however, remember jumping out of the car before it was in park...
** Note: in case any, uh, "Just Looking Out For The Best Interest of Big V" people read this, please note this is an account of a bad date that happened in the past. In the way past. As in "long before I even knew Big V was walking the earth" kind of past. Please don't accuse me of dating guys on the sly because that's just not nice. (Yes, web friends, it has happened. That's why a note such as this is considered a necessity.)
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