Monday, October 09, 2006

tales from the crypt, part 2

(title: tales from the crypt, part 2)

…in which I share entries from my old school, lo-tech diary, circa 1996.

This particular installment is about two dates: the worst I’ve ever been on, and the weirdest. I’ve certainly got nothing to complain about now---how could I, when poor G spent most of his weekend cleaning up my Bellagioesque fountains of barf?---but sometimes it’s good to look back and reflect on just how far I’ve come.

Plus I figured you’d all get a kick out of these 100% true bad dates. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll---well, I don’t even want to say it. I’ve actually managed to keep down two cups of yogurt and a sleeve of saltines today; I don’t want to jinx myself.

June 6th, 1996

Today I walked to Caribou Coffee to meet up with an online friend, S. We've been engaging in some mild flirtation for the past few weeks. He's a Soft Cell fan, and I promised to make him a compilation tape with "The Girl With the Patent Leather Face" on it, since he hasn't heard it. It started raining when I was halfway there, but I'd thought to bring my umbrella.

He was nice, and really tall---6'4"! We talked for about an hour, and then we parted ways. I asked him to drop me off at the library.

June 7th, 1996

What the fuck?!? I was online and S showed up on my buddy list. We started IMing and he said, "Yesterday I really wanted to masturbate on your shoes. You have such beautiful feet." I was wearing cheap espadrilles! Nothing to jerk off about. *

June 12th, 1996

Yet another online date, but this one suuuuuucked! His name was Jim, and he moved here recently from North Carolina. He was so damn boring. At one point, the conversation stalled and then he said, "Do you like Garfield?" I was kind of taken aback, but I said sure, and then he said, "I got a Garfield calendar for Christmas last year. My favorite one is when he's trying to get the lasagna away from Jon; I laughed so hard!"

Okay, what the hell?!?! That's like saying your favorite episode of "Gilligan's Island" is the one where they're trying to get off the island!

Anyway, so we finished eating and he asked if I wanted dessert. I said no because at that point I just wanted to go home! But he got cheesecake, so I had to sit there and wait for him to eat it. At one point, he offered me a bite so I took one. This winds up being relevant!

When the bill came, Jim patted his shirt pocket and said, "I got something to take care of this." So I thought he was going to get out a credit card, and I figured well, at least I got a free meal out of this shitty date. But he pulled out a little pocket calculator and started tallying up who owed what! "You had the filet mignon, so that was nine dollars, your drink was two dollars, and you had a bite of my cheesecake, so that was, let's say, fifty cents."

I laughed because I thought he was kidding...I mean, would YOU take that seriously? But he was serious! I practically threw my money at him and when we left, he asked if I wanted to go out again. Fuck no!

*There’s an interesting addendum to this charming tale. S turned out to be a very unusual guy, to put it mildly. We never met up in person again, but we talked online and on the phone all the time. Once we were talking on the phone and I said something like, "What did you think of that movie, S?"

"Oh, don't call me S," he said.

"Um, what am I supposed to call you?"

"Call me slut. I don't deserve any name but slut, or pig, or whatever you want to call me, mistress."


So yeah, he really wanted to be dominated by a woman. One day he sent me an e-mail with a picture attachment and a note that said, "This was a fun party; I wish you had been there too." My computer at the time was basically an Etch-a-Sketch, and pictures took forever to open, so I sent it to K and asked her to let me know if it was anything interesting. She called me two seconds after I sent it and said, "Oh my JESUS CHRIST, I can't even tell you what's in the picture! You have to see it."

The next day at work, K sat down in the cube next to me and passed me a piece of paper that was folded about fifteen times. "You might want to wait until your break to look at it," she whispered.

Could I resist? Uh, no. I opened it and saw, to my shock, good old S and a guy I didn't know on all fours, looking over their shoulders at two women who were busily shoving dildos the size of hamhocks up the boys' butts.

Ah, romance!