I, Nightmare


In the past, I’ve written a few times about horrible dates, retarded boyfriends, and the like.  In casual chitchat, a friend of mine recently asked about worst first dates.  I pointed out that I had, in fact, written about one of mine. Not too far in the past, either. As I sat and tried to bring something else to mind, I could not really hit inspiration. With me, if i can not find a way to make a story amusing, I’m generally not going to remember it and I’ll have almost no desire to tell it.

So there I am, skimming through my mental Rolodex, when it dawns on me, that in all honesty, if I were thinking of dates I have been on, the very worst was not him.  It was me.

I really do not know how it happened. Even now, I’m sort of clueless at how that particular wave of crazy washed over me in that instant. I get that it was unconscious sabotage, but at the time it was like forces beyond my control.  Hence, ‘the crazy’ I spoke of.

A couple of months earlier, I had been dumped. My heart was completely broken.  Bad Scene.  About 2 weeks after, I decided on the wisdom of the old adage “The best way to get over someone is to get under someone new.” And I had embarked upon this course of action in a big way.  I am pretty sure I didn’t want to *find* anyone, I just wanted to distract myself from thinking about HIM in the *looking*.

One after another. I was not even having a good time. In fact, I found it a massive pain in the ass. But when I have a plan, especially ‘mid-plan’…its hard to stop.  Eventually, though I met someone on one of those dating sites.  And he seemed perfect.  He was everything I dug in a guy.  We’ll call him “Victim.”   This brilliant, arrogant lawyer type. Successful and suave.  I guess I have to say he also reminded me of  “Bad Scene.”  After a few conversations online, he asked me out. Even the invitation itself, was my ideal date.  A drink and then dinner at this jazz bar.  I was so stoked.

And then I realized I was terrified. I do not know why I did not cancel. But I felt almost compelled to go.  Or…I didn’t want to seem psycho.  Oh, Hindsight, you trickster, you.   So, I decide to go and I went.

In mismatched clothing. Yes, I shit you not. I also do not want to even try to describe my hair ‘style’.  But it was long on hair and very short on style.  The thing is, none of this was consciously deliberate. It just sort of …happened.  I’d be fine for a few minutes and then something would just happen. Like the coat, the shoes, the bag.. all fine. But the skirt and blouse?  Not even remotely a match.

I get to the place, and he seemed as good as he did online and in the couple of pictures. I’m sure my 3 ponytails or whatever was probably not what he was expecting. That said, I immediately tripped going up the few stairs from the bar into the restaurant part and threw wine all over a (thankfully) empty table.

I interrupt him 965 times when we’re seated with shit that had nothing to do with anything.  The thing is, each time I did it, I shocked myself. I have very good manners, generally. So it was also surprising when I found myself doing this little sing-song “what do I want? what do I want? what do I want?” whilst perusing the menu. He asked me what I was going to have and I told him. And everything is actually OK for a while. Conversation is pleasant and normal. Until the waiter arrives and takes our order. He orders for me and I immediately cut him off with “Why would you say that? That’s not what I want.”

I then proceed to totally alienate the waiter by changing my order 3 or 4 more times.  Victim orders and the waiter moves to leave when I call out to him that he needs to come back because I had changed my mind. I think the waiter’s eye roll and sighed  “of *course* you have” shocked me back into control of myself.  Because again, for a bit, everything is fine. He’s telling me about a particularly interesting case he had recently tried.

Even once the food came, BizarreLayla stayed in check. For a little bit.  But then, as we’re chatting and eating, I started reaching over and just forking something on his plate.  About the third time that happened, he got quite proactive and told me if I reached over with my fork again, he’d stab that hand with his fork. So then SHE took over fully again and was just obnoxious and saying the most ridiculous shit. Untrue, loud, and just stupid.

He starts glancing at his watch and so I order coffee. And slurp. Slowly. That poor man could not pay the bill and get out of there fast enough. Gentleman to the end, he walked me to my car and told me that he had enjoyed meeting me.  Needless to say, I did not hear back from him.

Time passes, as it tends to, and about a year later, I’m completely myself again and am browsing absently on some other dating site. I get a random pm from someone who had liked my ad thingy.  I go to look at their profile and realize “Oh dear god. It’s VICTIM!!!!”  We chitchat back and forth for about 10 minutes and he’s as cool as ever.  I finally feel bad and partially fess up. “You know… I am fairly certain we’ve met. In fact, We’ve went out.”

Almost a full minute of silence and then “…..let me guess. Nightmare with red hair?”  “Guilty.” “I want you to know in full honesty, It was almost 5 months before I could bring myself to go on another date from that site.” “Yes, I wanted to apologize for all that and explain that it was a very freak occurrence that had never happened to me before”  “What? being around human beings?” The strange thing is, after about a half hour of chatting,  he asked me if  I wanted to try again.

We did. and actually ended up seeing each other casually for about 6 months.  That’s not to say I got off completely free from that escapade. He would NOT commit to dinner with me for that second first date. “Let’s meet for a drink. I do not think I could handle a full-scale encore performance” Not that I could blame him, really.  I would have never even bothered to speak to me, had I been he.

Advertisements

~ by Layla on November 21, 2010.

4 Responses to “I, Nightmare”

  1. […] I, Nightmare « News of the Highly Bizarre If you enjoyed this article, please consider sharing it! Tagged with: […]

  2. i can honestly say that i’ve never had a date quite that terrible. on the other hand, every time i go out i’m stared at for changing what’s on the menu to suit me. “no tomato. please make sure there are no pickles. no, i don’t want dressing… yes, i’m sure. NO DRESSING. i don’t want ice in my drink. make sure that the steak is -blue- rare, and i know the difference between this and medium..” i, too, nightmaer. ;p

  3. Um.
    Er.
    Uh.

    I wonder if I made this amply clear before…so allow me to reiterate.

    We will NEVER have dinner together. Absolutely not. Ever. Come what may. Under and circumstances. Definitely.

    And by the way…THREE ponytails? *shudders*

  4. Health food makes me sick.

    HAHAHA Good spam rocks my socks off

Got Somethin' to Say?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

 
%d bloggers like this: