Just When You Thought It Was Safe to Go On A Date

(wait. did we ever think it was safe to go on a blind date?)

So. I had a blind date.
It started out pretty well. Nerves, lots of nervous laughter, but then settled down into decent conversation.
I was really cognizant to not be closed off and automatically negative. I was open,and laughing and engaged and intent on being in the moment.

Until the moment turned slick willy style.

He kept interrupting me. INTERRUPTING MY STORY, whatever the story was, something he had asked me about, but INTERRUPTING ME to tell me “you are so beautiful. you smell amazing. you look sexy. you made me really happy watching you walk to the bathroom.” and in the beginning some of that was charming…but then it turned just slick. slick. slick.

he kept saying he wanted to kiss me. well. not at the fucking dinner table chico! Good grief.

I could feel my walls going up.
brick by brick by brick.

he ordered for me. fajitas.
I wanted the enchiladas or the quesadilla. I told him that on the phone when we picked the place.

People. Let me ask you a question. Do I LOOK LIKE I HAVE A PROBLEM CHOOSING FOOD???? DO I LOOK LIKE I NEED ANY HELP IN THAT FUCKING DEPARTMENT AT ALL???? MY GOD.

From zelda pinwheel's flying circus

and I KNOW. I know it was a gentlemanly thing to do. and I know I could have just as easily said, no thank you I would like a quesadilla. But I’m not kidding. It happened fast. It was a drive by ordering. Vroom Vroom. bam. done. fuck. ok.

The conversation, his (mine kept being interrupted) was sprinkled with overtly sexual enuendo. To the point that I was thinking to myself…are you frigid? have you become a prude? what the hell is wrong with you? I just laughed it off. That loud stupid laugh of mine. coping mechanism. I use it well.

OH wait for this! At one point, he (interrupted me) to ask, “why don’t you have any babies?”
really?
really????

brick.
brick.
brick.
brick.

It was the goddamned Great Wall of China before dinner was over.

I was ready to go, and finally, just got my purse and got up. After he looked up at me and said, “Missy didn’t tell me you were so tall.” (HE SAW ME WALK IN!) He walked me to my car and yes, there was a goodnight kiss. he stood on the curb. I was in the street. and no, I didnt want the kiss. I’m so outta practice, I thought it’d be just a chaste little closing to the night. well. it looked like this coming at me.

big fat tongue down my throat.grabbed me and smushed me into him. no soft lips, tentative and inquiring. no touch of the hand, none of that. this was a kiss that happens after you’ve been dating, after you’ve both had a little tequila, and are about five minutes away from rounding the bases on your couch, thanking the good lord above that you’re grownups and don’t have to worry about your parents walking in, because it feels that exciting.

no.
no no no no no.
this was gross.

WHAT MAN OUT THERE, and listen guys, if you’re reading, please chime in, THINKS IT’S A GOOD IDEA TO STICK YOUR TONGUE DOWN A WOMANS THROAT TWO HOURS AFTER MEETING HER FOR THE FIRST TIME???????

little hint.

IT’S NEVER A GOOD IDEA.
ever.

have some fucking manners.

(manners talk coming from the writer of the F word every other sentence. whatever.)

So. I’m telling you today. On this 19th day of November that I am DONE.

DONE DONE DONE.
I’ve spent the last year in a one sided relationshiop, unreciprocated totally, with a man who couldn’t care less. Went on two dates that could compete with Titanic for “best ending” and I’m done.

Little Mary Sunshine, signing off.