So, I know what you’re thinking. Everyone is used to something – whether that be the way they kiss, the way they hug, the way they’re used to doing their washing, the way they’re used to walking around the house in their underwear… We’re all used to things being a certain way. And I know, maybe this one is just me being fussy, but also – maybe it’s not. And maybe, just maybe, this is one of the worst one off dates and date experiences I’ve ever had.
So. The scene. I was 19 and on Tinder, the boy (let’s call him Jess after another great Gilmore Girls boyfriend.) was nice, if not a little dull, and possibly a little naïve for my taste. He was older and tried to play off that because he was older and had gone to a private school, he was obviously smarter than I am, even after living an incredibly sheltered, privileged life. (Which; by the way, if that’s you and you think you’re more mature than me because you went to a private all boys school – click away now. Go on!)
We organized to hang out, and in the back of my mind any time I’ve organized a date with someone who seemed to be a little bit weird or different, I have thought of this blog. I have been dreaming of this blog for years, before I even started dating or writing down my bad dates, before I knew what I wanted to do, I knew I wanted to write and share my thoughts and feelings with the world.
When I turned 18 and went on my, now infamous, first bad date (See – The One with the Freakshakes.) this blog was born in my mind, and I started collecting more stories to share. And this date was one of those ones that, from the second I saw him, I knew he would be one of these stories. So, onto the date.
We decided to get coffee and hang out, and from the second I saw him, I felt that “I’m so much wiser than you” attitude reigning down on me. Great. I ordered my coffee (my usual summer order – an iced almond milk latte) and he commented on the extra cost of the almond milk – not the first guy to have an issue with this, and definitely not the last. I told him outright I was happy to pay for my own coffee, never under the impression that a guy should have to pay for everything on a date, and definitely not lost on the fact that I too was earning money, so I was able to pay for myself. This almost seemed to sadden him, he sat there quietly and simply muttered “Oh, well… I was going to but FINE…” Ok, not a big deal, I’ll pay for my own coffee, and at this stage I didn’t think I would be staying long and mentally started preparing an exit strategy. The conversation was stilted, and everything I said, he had a wise comment to add, thinking he (at 24) needed to give me (at 19) advice on how to conduct my life. Most of the time, his advice was not only uncalled for, but was just him stating the obvious. I would talk about work I was doing for class at Uni, and he would comment “Oh well you HAVE to get an education, can’t rely on the public school system to teach you everything.” Or I would tell an anecdote about something that had happened at work, and he would remark how “simple” hospitality sounded. (Shout out to my hard working hospo buds. Y’all the real MVP’s.)
By the time I downed my coffee, I was seriously considering climbing out the bathroom a la Rachel Greene, or trying to access the kitchen to use the back door and get out. This guy had a smart arse comment to add to everything I said. I told him I needed to use the bathroom, and he said he did too, so he followed me. When I came out, after not actually using the toilet, there he was waiting for me. I went to the counter to pay for my coffee and he commented to the server how strong willed I was for wanting to pay for myself. After I had paid, I stepped back and, for reasons only known to him, he placed a hand on my butt and pat me like a dog. I stepped further back, away from his hand, and heard him remark “she should too, considering she decided to order something more extravagant…” while the server looked blankly between us, obviously recognising that this was a bad first date. I walked out to go to my car, trying to get ahead of him, but low and behold, my short legs didn’t get me far ahead and he followed me again. Not wanting him to see which car I was walking to, I stopped short just across the road from the car park, and turned to say goodbye. As I motioned that I was crossing the road, he wrapped his arms around me and said “You’ll have to teach me how to do this…” before he shoved his tongue in my mouth and (I kid you not) flapped it up and down, tapping the roof of my mouth and then my tongue, and then the roof of my mouth, and then my tongue. I tried to pull away but that only lead him to pull me in closer, sliding a hand down my back and up the back of my dress to (once again) uncomfortably pat my butt.
Eventually, I pulled away and mumbled something about needing to go and ran to my car. Once inside my car; and after watching him get in his car and drive away, I started laughing. And that laughing turned into hysteria, with tears streaming down my face at how awkward and awful the whole situation was. Not so much a sad cry, more just one purely out of shock at how sexually aggressive he became after spending the date belittling me and my entire existence. And he expected me to teach him how to kiss?
I got home and already had 3 texts from him telling me how great it was and how he wanted to do it again, to which I simply said I was busy all the days he was free and that it likely wouldn’t work out. Did that stop him from messaging me a year later and trying to reconnect? No. And when I said I was busy and didn’t think it would work out, did he then send me a “break up” message about how he had had a really good time, but just couldn’t see it going any further? Yes. He was just one of those guys who had to have the final word on everything and had to make his (always horrific) opinions the loudest voice in the room.
To date, I have a Bachelors Degree, a job I love and lots of
experience in 2 industries I have loved. If he were ever to see me again, I
wholeheartedly believe he would try and claim some of the glory for my own
success because of all the unwarranted advice he gave me back in the day. He
just had to be one of those people who had
to have the final say.
To quote Emily Gilmore, “Tacky, horrid people.”