Home > Dating/Love > My date from Hell

My date from Hell

For a long time, I’ve been told by many people (my co-blogger Adam included) that I attract unusual circumstances and people.  I find myself in the middle of strange situations fairly often, and I have heard “That would only happen to you,” too many times to count. For example, once on my way to work I was sitting at a stoplight in midtown Atlanta only to be flashed by a cross dresser in a flamenco outfit that a truck full of construction workers ahead of me had unwittingly been wolf whistling towards while we were all sitting at the red light. A weird occurrence, yes, but that anecdote is not even a stand out in my “Unusual Happenings and Alison” arsenal.

This past Saturday, I went on a date.

 Obviously, it didn’t go well otherwise it I wouldn’t have included it in this post, however, it was so weird that I feel I need to share it in order to move on. I’ve got some battle wounds from this one. I need to share what happened in order to stop these socially-induced lesions from going gangrene.

It started out normally enough, optimistically even. His name was Jonathan and he was an architect who was my age. He liked running, Its Always Sunny in Philadelphia, was conventionally attractive and had dual citizenship in the US and South Africa. On paper we were a match with a lot of interests in common, however being an “on paper” match means nothing in the dating world. I’d forgotten the very basic rule about dating and that is simply: there are no rules. I was blindly about to jump head first into a whole bunch of crazy.

We met at a local tapas place at 8:30. There had been the SEC championship game that day and the restaurant, while usually nice, was filled with people who had 10 to 12 hours of drinking under their belts already for that day. While harmless, they were loud and smelled, for lack of a better term, like an old man burp.  My date was visibly pissed off by them and elected to have us sit on the patio. That was fine me even though it was cold outside and then he dropped this bomb on me:

“So, would you fuck on the first date?”

This was the first sentence he had spoken to me since I’d arrived at the restaurant.  I’m generally a very sarcastic and joking person so at that moment I was searching his face for any signs of teasing. What I gleamed from his expression was a stone sober and inappropriate query. Also throughout the entirety of the date he never smiled and said to me later that smiling was a ‘waste of energy.’  I didn’t know how to react to the sex comment except to say,

“Has asking that ever worked for you?”

To which he replied, “You’d be surprised”

I wish I could say that at that very moment I bolted up out of my chair and told him off with some witty-yet-profound quip, but friends, no, I sat there in stunned silence. There was no reprieve from his jaw dropping opener because Jonathan then decided he wanted to see what I wanted to accomplish in life. As if it was some kind of test. He told me that usually women my age (he and I were the same age) were so scattered that he couldn’t ‘deal’ with them. I don’t know why I still sat there. I think at that point I was so morbidly curious to see what else this jackass had to say that I was willing to subject myself to more.   I outlined to him my career plan, including my decided change of fields, which he told me was brave. And that may have been the highlight of the entire evening.

As far as the actual food part of dinner was concerned, I had only ordered one tapas dish that mercifully came out quickly. So I’d thought I was in the home stretch and that this date would be over as soon as our waitress came back to the table with our check. And then Jonathan turned our discussion towards guns.

“How do you feel about guns?”

“Ummm I haven’t been around many so they make me feel pretty uneasy.”

“Oh well don’t be uncomfortable, but I’m packing.”

Packing. He was packing. A .45 pistol in a holster that fitted to the small of his back. I was sitting at dinner with a fuckwad who had brought a concealed weapon on a date.  I can’t think of any situation where this wouldn’t be wildly inappropriate unless your date venue happens in be inside of a Grizzly bear’s den.

At that moment the waitress reappeared with our credit cards, and my wit and the grasp on how badly this night had gone finally caught up with me. I stood up and said something to the tune of:

“Thanksfordinnerhaveagoodnightdrivesafelygoodbye!”

And I ran to my car; the kind of run where you don’t care how you look. Arms flailing, high heels chipping into the asphalt, loose change spilling from your purse and all. Honestly I didn’t run because I was scared of him. I was just so desperate to leave that moment and somehow move into the next. To a new time where I didn’t feel like I was being bullied into telling this awful person how I felt and thought about things.

When I went home, I started my healing process immediately. I met Adam out for beers where I relayed the finer points of my evening’s events.

I have to say that that was the worst date I have ever been on. And this is coming from the girl that all things weird happen to. You would think at this day in age there would be a way to identify these broken, freaks of nature, but no there is no app for that. They aren’t even ear- tagged like sheep. Ladies and gents be careful, it’s a jungle out there. I wish the best for all my fellow singletons and I hope that none of you ever have to go out with a gun-wielding, non-smiling South African.

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  1. Stephanie W
    December 6, 2011 at 6:15 am

    Smiling totally IS a waste of energy! This guy sounds awesome! Hang in there, homes, the right one won’t be an asshole…I promise.

  2. December 7, 2011 at 8:15 pm

    1) You never answered the question
    2) So you’re saying I should stop bringing my guns on dates? I want a second opinion.

  3. January 10, 2012 at 12:06 pm

    Yeah bookmaking this wasn’t a high risk conclusion outstanding post!

  4. January 10, 2012 at 1:09 pm

    I like this site so much, saved to fav. “Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be.” by Peter De Vries.

  5. February 2, 2012 at 9:10 pm

    If this twisted headcase is right, you just made me waste a lot of energy. My own worst date doesn’t seem half as bad now!

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