A local radio station is having a contest for the worse date. You write a story, readers vote, you can win prizes. I decided to share this little classic story & figured you people may get a kick out of it, too.
And if not, oh well.
Oh yeah, baby news is fine, expect a baby blog in full tomorrow. But until then, enjoy my awkwardness...
Ah, college. I have many good memories, involving good times with good friends. This, however, is not one of those stories. Unless you’re one of my friends, then you love laughing at this story and my misery.
I’d had a couple classes with a guy who I thought was cute, so when he eventually asked me if I’d like to get together for a movie that weekend, I accepted. Worse case scenario I thought was just getting to know the guy a little better, even if there weren’t any sparks there. And hey, I’d get to wear my new dress that I loved. It couldn’t be miserable. Impossible. He was just a normal, seemingly decent guy.
Once we arrived at the movies, I excused myself to use the restroom. Once I came back, he asked what I might like to see. I didn’t really have a preference, which I said as I looked over my options. Before I finished my options, he excitedly announced, “Well, Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy is out today!” I responded without thinking, telling him I’d never heard of it. I think the world stopped for a moment, while he stared at me with disgust. He then accounted that he’d actually already gotten the tickets while I was in the restroom, he thought I’d love to see it. I tell him that’s fine, but I still had no idea what it was. He was obviously uncomfortable that I had no idea what this movie was. For the next 20 minutes, he schooled me in its magic, how it was based on a book, things about the author, throwing in a random jab here and there about how he can’t believe what kind of school system I went to if I knew nothing of this wonderful book turned movie. I stood there, eating some nachos & wondering if I would survive this date. Every time I tried to change the topic, he ignored me & went on about the movie we were about to see. As I stared at my nacho cheese, pondering the other things I could have done that day, such as clean my bathroom, he made sure to remind me that he’d like me to finish eating those before the movie because he didn’t want me eating to be a distraction for me or anyone around me, because this was a “very important event.”
He insisted on the perfect seats. I was told where to sit. He explained to me that he didn’t mind comments in movies usually, but this was “about to be an amazing experience for both of us” so I should just stay quiet, anything I don’t understand he’d be happy to explain to me over dinner. If it hadn’t been so crowded and I hadn’t been sitting by a wall, I would have just made my exit. Isn’t like he would have noticed. The movie started and in the first few seconds as the credit were coming up, there were a few scratching sounds in the movie. He became irate. Loudly complaining that this was ruining his experience, and that he was going to go complain and demand that they restart it…even thought the credits hadn’t appeared on the screen. I talk him down, telling him it wasn’t a big deal & nothing to make a scene about, everything would be fine, pointing out that the picture was perfect now & the credits were just starting. At that point he looked at me like I’d just shot Bambi by thinking it wasn’t a big deal, but he agreed not to storm out & complain. He spent the next few minutes groaning and moaning, loudly showing his disapproval at the screen issues. I wondered if the people around us thought he was passing some sort of kidney stone or something.
I then sat through 45 hours of the most boring movie ever made. OK, I have no idea how long it was, I actually fell asleep a few times, as my date talked to himself about the “magic” of the movie, whispered to himself about how that was too different than he’d prefer, and so on. I survived it though and that’s all that mattered as the lights came back up. I’d convinced myself that this had to get better, it had to. I was optimistic actually. Until I looked at my date, that is. He was hysterically crying.
I don’t mean a few tears down his face. I mean hysterically crying, can’t catch his breath crying, wailing basically while people stared. I’m all for men showing emotions, but I prefer it when they have a reason to show said emotion. I ask what’s wrong, & he’s finally able to choke out, “that…it was his DREAM!” talking about the author of the book having his book turned into a movie. He continued his snot fest out of the theatre and towards the car. He asked if I wanted dinner. At that point, I needed a drink & I basically felt like I was owed a dinner for dealing with him and his water works. He then takes me a small restaurant, which doesn’t serve drinks. He must have read my mind. On the drive over and during our meal, he continued to break out into tears from time to time, with me handing him a couple tissues I carried with me. During our meal, the waitress finally asked us if everything was alright, because he seemed so upset. She then got then entire story on the movie and its magic, plus the complaint that it should have been a series of movies instead of just one movie. While he went on & on about it, she looked at me with sad eyes I’ll never forget.
I ate as fast as possible, reminding him to eat as well as he continued telling me the story of the book, how the movie was made, the authors entire life story, and, you guessed it, crying here & there throughout the story. He only stopped crying when he realized that I myself had not shed a tear. He asked why I was so cold. I told him I wasn’t cold, just bored & it just wasn’t my type of movie really. At that point, he was done with me, I could just tell. I hadn’t passed his test, which was fine with me. I’d been worried if I had. The good news was that made him stop crying, so I was happy about that at least.
I was able to make my exit and I thought it was done and over with. I thought he couldn’t think much of me since he thought it was weird that I wasn’t emotional about it as well, so I figured I was safe & would never have to worry about his advances in the future.
I was wrong.
The next week, he showed up in my class, a class I didn’t even have with him, with the book. He signed his full name in it “with love” in the front cover. He went on to tell me that he’d love to educate me about that & other fine literature, he felt as though “we were suppose to meet” to “help” me & he figured I’d be interested in that idea as well and wanted to know what I was doing for lunch. I thanked him, but told him I really wasn’t interested in that idea. He stared at me for a moment, then took the book out of my hands, and announced “you will never find anyone like me again” as he walked out of the room. He never spoke to me again in any class. And he was right, I never found anyone like him again.
Thank goodness for that. I don't always have tissues. And I never wore that dress again.