We met in front of the student union as he was trying to get people to sign up for mailing lists, and some how I ended up signing up for a date. A Sunday afternoon meal and walk in the park. As someone rushed in front of me, I screeched to a halt, beeping my horn manically, as a collision was imminent. I tried to seem cool and calm, with my car halted in the middle of the junction. I'd just moved to Manchester, the dodgy end, and I'd also met a lovely German guy. We went on a date and he wanted to walk me home after I'd made a lot of fuss about the area I lived in.
As we turned the corner the street was lit up with blue flashing lights. The sirens were echoing off the Victorian brick walls and in the distance I saw police tape flickering in the wind. As we edged closer, my fingers gripped his tighter as I realised that the tape was wrapped around my house. And the sirens were calling out to me! He thought it was hilariously coincidental until I said: A gang had been chasing him and he ran up to our house to try and get in but no one had opened the door quick enough. The guy took me to stay at my friends, but I never did hear from him again….
He was wearing a shark tooth necklace for starters. Is he dealing drugs? So they started talking to me like I was the long-lost girlfriend — showing me pictures of their holiday, chatting about their son — it was seriously weird — although they were an absolute delight. Said boy then took me upstairs to his very teenage bedroom, and talked me through the photos on his wall, and showed me his piano.
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He even started playing it for me. So I ended up having sex with him We'd met on Tinder and though we'd got on well there was something holding me back from pinning down a date. But after two cancelled meet-ups I'd agreed to drinks - cocktails. When I arrived I was relieved - he looked nice and had a drink ready for me. We chatted away for a while until he got onto his recent flat move. He hated where he lived but he'd had to move fast as fast as possible, he said. It sounded dubious, so out came the journalist in me, and after a lot of probing about why he'd moved so swiftly, the story came flooding out.
I'd already judged, of course. It transpired he hadn't got on with an old housemate who'd been hitting on his ex. So he'd taken drastic measures, and I mean drastic. He said that when he was in high school he went to an alternate dimension and couldn't find his way back. The only way for him to find his way was to sell his soul to a merchant he found in this other dimension. When he got back to this dimension he had super powers and could control people's emotions.
He then creepily leaned over and said 'I can make you feel anything right now He also said he knew the four horsemen of the apocalypse and that he was going to help me during the end of the world. At this point I was convinced I was going to end up in a garbage bag on the side of the road. But I got home safe. Of course, police eventually discovered it was my date who killed his father, he was tried for first degree murder, and defended by the attorney who went on to defend one or both of the Menendez brothers hence his mention in the article. My date was ultimately convicted of involuntary manslaughter his mother and sister testified that the father was a violent and sadistic abuser , and served no prison time.
Opening act was a comic who did her entire routine about how shitty online dating is, and how all the dudes are big, fat losers who are gross. That was the beginning of the end. Turns out she was a fan of them only from tv, a medium in which they had sharply toned down their usual act. By that point, I just got drunk and laughed about it. This was after a few too many dates that ended twisting up a lot more then just my sheets. I started corresponding with a guy who worked near by, sent me poems and complimented my on-line pictures with vigor.
We decided to meet for a date, and I picked him up on a street corner where he met me with a bouquet of irises. As we drove across the bridge to the city, he stared at me and told me how I was even prettier then my picture. It started to feel a little icky… why do women like this? Anyways, we went out to eat in China Town and he began to unfold the requisite life story. Turns out he had grown up Jewish in a small town in the south, Mississippi, I think. People had been unfathomably cruel to him, they had burned crosses and driven his mother to alcoholism. They had killed every pet he had ever owned.
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This guy had been tortured psychologically. It was a lot to take in. As we moved to the dessert course, we talked about the next stage of his life when he moved to Chicago for college. But, his family demons followed him there and he spent the last ten years caring for his mentally ill mother while getting a PhD in math. He told me that he thought life was full of evil and hatred, and then he suggested we go get a drink.
We ended up at a bar where he then guided the conversation to the topic of Israel vs. He ordered a beer and insisted. He began poking me in the chest and yelling, I kept asking him to drop the subject… he got louder. After trying again and again to change the subject, I finally said I want to go home. A half-hour drive full of blessed icy silence ensued.
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When we arrived, I had to get out and get his briefcase out of the trunk. He tried to kiss me there in the foggy street. I pushed him away. Names were exchanged and, realizing I was on a date, he wrapped things up quickly and went and sat down in another part of the bar. I thought she was saying that she considered my friend coming over and chatting for all of five minutes was rude, so I started to defend his behavior. When he got back from the bar, he launched into his new thing, which was… Scientology. It was fascinating, I have to say, but it was also profoundly depressing.
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I was disgusted, obviously, and just completely shocked that this guy would come at me with such racist bullshit within 5 minutes of meeting. I spilled my coffee and said, Oops, guess that means I should go.
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They arrive, and I do enjoy them! I still have the red velvet box. I think, what the hell, I have done one or two insecure things in my time, I should give the guy a break. So I meet him at a bar, and he proceeds to be very very silent. Go ahead and tell me what I am. I never pulled taffy.