I have a good friend of mine, whom I have known for several months now. We have become pretty close friends and I hang out with him on a regular basis. I received a call from him last night asking if i would come watch Stepfather with him. Stepfather is a suspense/thriller movie, and I do not like scary movies. I take that back, I like scary movies, but they TERRIFY me. So I have two rules, both of which must be followed if I watch a scary movie with you. 1. You must be bigger than I am, so that I can cling to you and hide behind you during the particularly scary part. 2. You must be willing to let me stay the night with you, because otherwise I will lay awake all night being terrified. After being reassured that this criteria would be met, I agreed to come watch the movie.
This friend, I will call him Steve for the sake of this blog, is thankfully a big guy. Not fat, but has HUGE arm muscles and a chest too wide for many shirts. While muscles are not required, they do provide the size needed for hiding behind when people are being killed or stalked, which turned out to be quite handy because this movie was full of that. By the time we crawled in bed
- wait, let me point out that Steve is gay and I have not broken my decision to not sleep with anybody, for those of you who are keeping tabs, you know who you are -
By the time we crawled into his bed I was wide eyed and terrified. It took me hours to get to sleep during which Steve thankfully kept me entertained and distracted with stories of his remarkably interesting life. I finally slept but it was a fitful sleep and around four or five in the morning I was woken by concerned family members, and I dragged myself home and went back to bed, where I was woken promptly at 8:30 in the morning by a friend wanting to do our hair for the photos we were going to take that day.
Thus was the start of a crazy day.
I had a date. It was a blind date, set up by none other than Steve. it had taken me three weeks and prodding from many friends before I finally accepted the offer, and only then if I doubled with Steve and his boyfriend. Surprisingly enough, the fact that I was doubling with two men was not the strange part at all.
This date, we will call him Brian, Avoided every question I asked him. I asked what he did for a living. His reply: "Oh, don't worry darling, I make plenty of money." I stared dumbfound at him before trying to explain that I was actually trying to find out what he did, as he proceeded to explain that he had great hours, and not to worry he could always make time for me.
He then would ask a question about me, but before I had two words out he would touch my hair, or my arms and compliment me. By the time dinner was over, I knew nothing about him, and he nothing about me. I did however know plenty about Steve's boyfriends day at work.
After the movie we saw (Avatar. Awesome.) we went for ice cream. I thought, yay, this day is getting better, there's ice cream involved! Sadly, it did not. I had my butt grabbed, and then as a bulge grew in his pants he did nothing to hide it but in fact seemed to stick it out further, all the while moving closer to me while I moved further away. I eventually had to be saved by Steve.
IS THIS WHAT DATING IS ALL ABOUT??? If so, I can't handle it. I'd rather be an old spinster with a hundred cats and no electricity living atop a hill and washing my clothes in the sewer runoff that I think is a stream. All the way home I contemplated this evening. Was this guy for real? Was it a practical joke? Is this normal, and I can expect it from every guy I go on a date with? Is there just something wrong with me and I am just overreacting and this is how all guys are?
Thankfully, I have guy friends. The first thing I did was call up my friends who are married and visit them to tell them my story. They barely heard it through all the laughing. Glad my life is amusing. The husband told me that the guy was full of shit and that I should never expect or put up with that. In so many words. His way of talking is much more...crude. But it's funny.
In an effort to calm down I came home and brewed a cup of tea. I called up Jacob who is thankfully a voice of reason for me, although I don't think he realizes that his opinions are usually good ones. I did not have plans to tell him of my date in an effort to just let it go, but in telling the course of my terrible day I ended up once again relating the story. "Am I overreacting here?" I asked, trying desperately to grasp where on the scale of dating this one fell. I was assured, albeit through laughter, that I was not. It was explained to me that this guy did pretty much everything wrong. This leads me to think that maybe, just maybe, there can be better dates in the future. Waaaaayyyyy in the future, I think. But maybe.
This friend, I will call him Steve for the sake of this blog, is thankfully a big guy. Not fat, but has HUGE arm muscles and a chest too wide for many shirts. While muscles are not required, they do provide the size needed for hiding behind when people are being killed or stalked, which turned out to be quite handy because this movie was full of that. By the time we crawled in bed
- wait, let me point out that Steve is gay and I have not broken my decision to not sleep with anybody, for those of you who are keeping tabs, you know who you are -
By the time we crawled into his bed I was wide eyed and terrified. It took me hours to get to sleep during which Steve thankfully kept me entertained and distracted with stories of his remarkably interesting life. I finally slept but it was a fitful sleep and around four or five in the morning I was woken by concerned family members, and I dragged myself home and went back to bed, where I was woken promptly at 8:30 in the morning by a friend wanting to do our hair for the photos we were going to take that day.
Thus was the start of a crazy day.
I had a date. It was a blind date, set up by none other than Steve. it had taken me three weeks and prodding from many friends before I finally accepted the offer, and only then if I doubled with Steve and his boyfriend. Surprisingly enough, the fact that I was doubling with two men was not the strange part at all.
This date, we will call him Brian, Avoided every question I asked him. I asked what he did for a living. His reply: "Oh, don't worry darling, I make plenty of money." I stared dumbfound at him before trying to explain that I was actually trying to find out what he did, as he proceeded to explain that he had great hours, and not to worry he could always make time for me.
He then would ask a question about me, but before I had two words out he would touch my hair, or my arms and compliment me. By the time dinner was over, I knew nothing about him, and he nothing about me. I did however know plenty about Steve's boyfriends day at work.
After the movie we saw (Avatar. Awesome.) we went for ice cream. I thought, yay, this day is getting better, there's ice cream involved! Sadly, it did not. I had my butt grabbed, and then as a bulge grew in his pants he did nothing to hide it but in fact seemed to stick it out further, all the while moving closer to me while I moved further away. I eventually had to be saved by Steve.
IS THIS WHAT DATING IS ALL ABOUT??? If so, I can't handle it. I'd rather be an old spinster with a hundred cats and no electricity living atop a hill and washing my clothes in the sewer runoff that I think is a stream. All the way home I contemplated this evening. Was this guy for real? Was it a practical joke? Is this normal, and I can expect it from every guy I go on a date with? Is there just something wrong with me and I am just overreacting and this is how all guys are?
Thankfully, I have guy friends. The first thing I did was call up my friends who are married and visit them to tell them my story. They barely heard it through all the laughing. Glad my life is amusing. The husband told me that the guy was full of shit and that I should never expect or put up with that. In so many words. His way of talking is much more...crude. But it's funny.
In an effort to calm down I came home and brewed a cup of tea. I called up Jacob who is thankfully a voice of reason for me, although I don't think he realizes that his opinions are usually good ones. I did not have plans to tell him of my date in an effort to just let it go, but in telling the course of my terrible day I ended up once again relating the story. "Am I overreacting here?" I asked, trying desperately to grasp where on the scale of dating this one fell. I was assured, albeit through laughter, that I was not. It was explained to me that this guy did pretty much everything wrong. This leads me to think that maybe, just maybe, there can be better dates in the future. Waaaaayyyyy in the future, I think. But maybe.
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