I often say that my city has two degrees of separation instead of six and this week I had another of those moments. While taking attendance for track, I noticed a rather attractive man sitting in the bleachers. Grey hair, handsome face. He spoke to me and I turned to face him and Oh! My! Goodness! I knew this guy!
I was not kidding about the two degrees. My dad's best friend is distantly related to this guy. A friend of mine is his cousin. I was also vaguely aware that a girl on the track team was related to him, but I figured that was also a distant relationship. Ummm, no...this guy is her father. Her long absent, wild living, just moved back in with his mother father.
So? So. This guy also happens to be the title holder of My Worst Date Ever. Ever ever!
Once upon a time, I was a very silly fifteen year old girl and quite fond of Cute Boys. One day at church, my eyes wandered over to discover the cute grandson of a very prissy Church Lady. After church, he asked for my number and I was quite pleased to give it to him.
Our phone conversation that afternoon was slightly bizarre. As an adult, I can make the educated guess that he was probably stoned out of his mind. Even so, I agreed to go out with him for dinner "at a very nice restaurant".
My first memory of this date is the overwhelming, wretch inducing scent of Stetson. Dude had not only bathed in the stuff, he had apparently injected it directly into his blood stream. Ugh!
We headed for the "very nice restaurant" which turned out to be...Denny's. Or possibly IHOP. I don't actually remember, but I thought it was completely hilarious that he considered it a nice restaurant. Nothing wrong with Denny's or IHOP but they don't exactly scream romantic dinner to me.
At our table, Dude told the waitress I wouldn't need a menu. He ordered a salad for me because "that's what chicks eat". He ordered himself the pancake house version of a steak while I sat there in stunned silence. And then began a sight that has remained etched vividly into my memory for all of these years....
Dude had the most repulsive table manners I have ever seen in my life. To this day!!! I know, I know...you've seen some nasty manners. So have I. People, I eat lunch with 3-year olds at least four days a week. They could honestly have provided Dude with etiquette lessons. I have truly seen chimpanzees eat with better manners than this guy.
He wrapped one arm around his plate like he thought I'd steal it, hunched over like a caveman, held his fork like a shovel and proceeded to eat. And talk. Mouth wide open with food actually falling back onto his plate as well as SALIVA! And he grunted while he ate. GRUNTED! Like a hog at a trough.
It was absolutely so far beyond disgusting that words are inadequate. I did everything I could to avoid looking at him and ate absolutely nothing. And then Dude complimented me for not eating because "those anorexic chicks are sexy and you could stand to lose a few pounds". I may have weighed a whole 90 pounds at the time. Such a cow!
By this point, I had decided to feign bubonic plague or malaria or anything to get Dude to take me home already. Instead, he took me to his very nasty apartment "just for a minute" to meet his family. His family who did not actually live with him. Dude then informed me that he could tell I really wanted to be alone with him. He attempted to kiss me which I managed to avoid by sitting down rather quickly. Dude continued to blather on and on about himself. Suddenly he knelt down on one knee, said we were really great together and asked me to move in with him. Even better, I could drop out of school, get my GED and get a job waiting tables. At the ripe old age of 15! To make the offer extra sweet, he said I could live with him until I turned 18 and then we'd get married. Isn't that just every girl's fantasy?
My plague/malaria combination suddenly became urgently fatal so I walked outside and told him I really needed to go home. Immediately.
Dude drove me home, talking the entire time about our delightful future together. I made it to the front door in record time to avoid another kissing attempt, but he was right there with me. He grabbed my arm, leaned in to kiss me (so I thought) and LICKED me. Like some kind of mange infested dog. I so wish I was kidding.
And there you have it...my date with a complete nut job.
I intend to spend the rest of track season as far away from Dude as possible. And I'll be praying he has absolutely no recollection of me. Please! Please! Please!