Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Worst. Date. Ever.

You guys wanna hear a funny story?

Okay.  It's Valentine's Day and it's been a rough one.

Right now, I'm watching The Voices with Ryan Reynolds.  It's got moments where it's good and then it gets lame.

But I feel the urge to tell stories about dates I've been on that went horribly wrong.

So, when I was in college, there was this girl.  She was cute, about half as tall as myself, but really smart and she didn't cringe away from me when I spoke to her.  I wasn't attracted to her but I was practicing this thing where I go out on dates, have a nice time, and leave it at that.  You know, trying to be more social and nice.

I was practicing being human.

So, a few weeks after my dad died, I felt well enough to hang out with Clarissa.  She was a grad student in the psychology program.  As I said, she was highly intelligent, and I loved hearing what she had to say about various topics.  Brains will always get my attention.

I picked up a couple of movies at the rental place, having no idea what they were, and she came over. No problem, right?  It was Micheal Keaton and a Disney.  How could I go wrong?

Well, there was a problem.  The first movie I picked up was My Life with Micheal Keaton.   If you haven't seen it, I'll give you this warning:  it's about a terminally ill man on his last days.  It's NOT the movie you want to watch two weeks after your dad blows his brains out with a shotgun.

So, I'm watching this movie with Clarissa.  I'm trying to hold it together.  I'm trying to be the tough guy.  I'm trying man up and be strong but on the inside I'm just falling apart at the seams.

I'm a wreck.

And I'm trying so hard to keep it together.

The movie ends and it's a tear-jerker.  Even if I had seen this movie without my dad dying, I would have been balling.  But this?

I excuse myself and go to the bathroom while the credits are rolling, leaving Clarissa in my dorm room.  And I just fall apart.  I'm thinking about my dad and how he died.  I'm thinking about how terrible it was his life was wasted.  A tsunami of grief was rolling out of me in my dorm's bathroom.

After ten minutes, I pull myself together, and go back to my room.  I'm a mess.  I explain Clarissa what's going on, how my dad just died, and how I wasn't expecting that movie to be about that subject.

She says, "Oh, ok."

And that's it.  She says nothing more.  And we watch some Disney film.

Question:  if the person you're watching a movie with excuses themselves, leaves, and comes back after obviously crying, wouldn't you ask if they're okay?  Wouldn't you ask them if they want or need to talk?  Because she didn't.

And that's when I realized she wasn't the one for me.  I mean, aren't you supposed to ask a person if they're okay after they've been crying?  Isn't that a rule someplace?

I know for a fact that had to have been the worst moment for her, too.  I'm sure she was horrified.  Some dude twice her size was just having a good cry after a tear-jerker movie he picked out himself.  What the hell?  He's a guy!  He's supposed to watch horror and action films.  Chuck Norris and Steven Segal.  And he's watching emotionally draining films about death?

How many red flags can we produce in one date?  Let me count them in order...

So that, I would have to say, was one of the worst dates I'd ever been on.

And for some reason, I just felt that on this evening, St. Valentine's Day, I just had to share.  Why?  Because just because a woman agrees to be in the same room with me, it doesn't mean something good will happen, and I'm a far better kamikaze pilot than a romantic heart-thief.

I laugh about that date, now.  And I hope you can laugh at something, too.  

No comments:

Post a Comment