NSRAD, or How I Never Heed Warning Signs in Open Diary 2001-2018 (Pre-Prosebox)

I left so abruptly in the last entry, I need to come back and finish up that story so that I can get back to unpacking boxes.

So Loft Lady had just handed me the phone, the guy had just asked me to have coffee, and I’d just agreed. Then he asked me when, and I knew I was going to be swamped for days, so I told him that I was really only free that very same night…and he seemed very pleased, telling me that he’d be my first date in [city]!! Cool.

I can’t tell you who was more excited, me or Loft Lady. I guess I was more amused. She was thrilled.

Ready for the blow-by-blow? I like [CN]’s idea of the “New State Rate-A-Date”, even though this really isn’t a new state for me, it is a re-state. But that’s okay because I feel like I’ve been gone long enough that things feel very new. And a little rushed. And insane. Read for yourself.

Name: Jonathan

Age: 38. Finally. Somone my own age!

Relationship Status: Remains fuzzy. You’ll see why later. He told me he’d been married and divorced once.

Occupation: Some kind of orthopedic researcher/scientist

Length of date: 12 blurry hours

We met: At the bistro where Loft Lady and I were originally talking. It was easy to meet there because I’d parked my car there and he lives across the street.

I wore: House-hunting garb—jeans, green sweater over printed tee, the fantabulous animal-print boots, big woven leather belt with giant brass buckle.

He wore: The requisite jeans and striped woven shirt. I can’t remember the shoes.

We did: So he met me at the bistro, and then we started walking, but we weren’t sure where to go. Coffee? Dinner? Drinks? He was asking me a million questions at rapid-fire speed, and I was so exhausted from the house hunt that my head was spinning. I told him I’d really like to have a drink. So he took me to the Asian restaurant that’s located in the building where he lives…just to start out with. He told me that he goes there all the time, but it was easy and very chi chi. I didn’t feel dressed right, but it didn’t really seem to matter much. We sat at the bar. I ordered a Kir Royale (champagne’s been a drink of choice for me lately). We talked a lot and he showed me around the restaurant (it’s attached to a poolside patio), and drank a lot and finally ordered sushi. I drank some more and then some more. I was having a good time until I realized that I was too drunk to drive the hour and ½ back to my parent’s place. Warning! Danger!! DANGER!!!

Convo: Okay. It started out really good. He asked me all of the normal questions. What do I do? Where am I going to work? Have I decided where I want to live? Have I ever been married? Why not? And I asked him the same—until the marriage subject came up and he seemed to get a little agitated. He told me that he got married out of pressure from his very Catholic family, and as soon as he did, he wanted out. DANGER! I gulped down more champagne and I guess made some smart-ass comments (that I can’t remember for the life of me). And he got a little angry. And I just drank more which aggrivated the whole thing. And it gets really blurry from there. I somehow smoothed the whole thing over, and soon he was laughing again. And we were fine, or so I thought. Okay, not really fine because I was ripped by that point. And of course, he wanted to show me his place. And of course, I really didn’t have a choice. Well, I guess I could have gone back to the rental car and slept there until I was okay to drive, but that thought didn’t really occur to me at that point. Plus, I was curious about his place anyway.

Part of personality I liked: I really liked the persistence at first. It’s flattering to hear someone tell you he thinks you’re gorgeous and wants to see you immediately. But I’m taking it as a warning sign from now on.

Part of personality I disliked: Didn’t really care for the Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde thing. He seemed to switch back and forth easily. And quickly.

Part of appearance I liked: I don’t know. He’s attractive, but not the kind of guy I’d normally go for. Looks more the accounting type than the mad scientist that he truly is. I suppose that’s the Dr. Jekyll in him.

Part of appearance I disliked: What he looks like when he’s pissed off (Mr. Hyde).

Highest Point: The flattery and excitement.

Lowest Point: Waking up half clothed, drunk, being groped by a freak in his bed.

How it ended: Back at his place, I thought things were fine. He showed me around (beautiful, tasteful, very expensive digs). We kissed on the balcony overlooking the pool and the sparkly lights. It was romantic, yet somehow very, very…off. I tried to shake the warnings out of my head because I knew I was going to fall asleep, and soon. Though he was an odd creature, I knew he wasn’t going to hurt me because I was pretty sure I could kick his ass, even in my drunk state. My brain went back and forth this way for a little while. I don’t know how he got me in his bed. Perhaps he slipped me a mickey, but I doubt it. I was just very pliable, but firm when he tried to unbutton the jeans. We slept a little, but he woke at 6am and told me that he’d walk me to the car because he needed to leave on a business trip. Oh how awkward and shameful and weird. But he seemed cheery and fine—until we got to the car and I tried to crack a joke. I said goodbye to his Mr. Hyde side. Drove back to my parents’ and made some lame excuse as to why I spent the night in the city instead of coming back to their place (bad, bad daughter!!!).

Chances I’ll see him again: I hope to never, ever, EVER run into this guy again!!

Update: The next day I was back in the Great Midwest finishing up my old job. I ran across his business card and decided to google him. Sure enough, stuff about him and his ex-wife popped up, but then something even more interesting appeared: an engagement announcement with someone completely different! And it was recent! And it was in the city where he was going on his weekend-long business trip. Hm. I really do think this guy has two very distinct personalities. And that I put myself into risky situations all too often.

The Lesson: NO MORE GETTING DRUNK ON FIRST DATES!! And I mean it this time. NO MORE!!! I’m limiting myself to two drinks, max. It’s now in writing and I solemnly swear from this day forward not to get sloshed until at least the second date.

Signed,

Ginger Snap.