2:56 p.m. - 2006-02-08
Valentines memories
Here comes Valentines Day.
It's going to float into some people's lives like the buterfly from the Lunesta sleeping pill commercial.
It will hit some people like a monorail. But no one in Seattle.
It will shoot some people through the heart, like Bon Jovi and they will forever think Love is a bad name or something.
As for me, well, this will be my First Valentine's Day with a Real Boyfriend. He is making our plans for this weekend...it will be a surprise. I sort of told him to surprise me. So it's not as much of a surprise as if, say, oh I don't know, some big fat man walked in here with a dolly, duct taped me, cacoon style and wheeled me out the door, and took me to Disneyland. Well, THAT would be a surprise. Anyway, there is an element of the unknown, nonetheless.
In honor of my First Valentines Day With A Real Boyfriend or FVDWARB, I will tell you a horrible story from the ghost of Valentines Past.
Probably at least half of you know this story, so I appologize if I'm repeating myself.
I went out with a bunch of single people for Valentines Day 2003. We ended up at one of my haunts, Barca, for those of you who have been there. Is anyone popping in and checking on Richard for me? Anyway, we all went out, and everyone got pretty tipsy. I noticed this guy kind of looking at me and I told my friend Andy I thought he was cute. We moved locations to my favorite gay dance club, and were bopping around to 80s dance music and I whirl around and there is the guy I thought was cute. He kinda slides up to me and we start talking. Turns out he went to grad school at OU. We talk some more, he asks for my number. I give it to him. The next day Kels and I were marching in an anti-war protest and my phone rings. It's him. He asks me out for that night. I quickly have the "is this a bad idea?" talk with Kelly and accept his invitation to dinner and a theater production that he apparently co-produced.
He picks me up in a truck. This is generally a good sign to me. We get to the very small venue, which is a casual dinner/theater kind of place. We are a bit late. We go in and sit down at this very small table which is arranged very close to a bunch of other small tables. As I sit down, I knock over a vase of flowers and freezing cold water, all of which basically goes right down the back of my shirt. Mr. Prince Charming is talking to some people and does not see this happen. I am hoping he will not notice and that he dcoes not touch my back for at least 2 hours until my shirt dries.
Unfortunately this little mishap has been witnessed by at least 8 people behind me, one of whom is an older gentleman who makes a lot of "Oh my! Oh Boy!" kind of comments and gts up and starts blotting me with a small cocktail napkin. He gestures for a waitress and tells her what happened as I stand there like a mute child from a third world country. She rushes off. The man's wife gets involved. It's basically all one giant embarrassing blur, which ends with what's his name, my date, finally turning around to see no less than three people fussing over me with paper towels and dish rags.
I recount the incident, he chuckles, we sit. The play begins. My date downs 3 beers in about 70 minutes. Now, I can drink some beers, but that fast? During a theater production? On a first date? OK, whatever. The Play ends. We had gotten there too late to order food, so we went down the street to this restaurant. We go in. We order. This is the first real conversation we've had because the whole time before we were watching the play.
Within 10 minutes, he tells me he:
1. hates his family
2. doesn't like kids but teaches them acting for the money
We get around to discussing religion, etc. and I tell him my faith is pretty important to me. To this, he replies, with a weird, creepy smile "Well, you know, I AM a member of God's army."
Um. What?!
After a while, he says something about a second date, and while I would never do this again, at the time, I felt the need to be really up front and not lead him on, so I told him very nicely that there wasn't going to be any second date. I just didn't like him and he was kinda creepy.
He responds with "Well, I thought we had a real connection here."
What does one say to that? Umm, nope. No we didn't, actually.
As an apparent last ditch effort, he then told me that he had some marajuana with him if I wanted to smoke it and that he "pretty much always" had it on him, if I was ever "into that or whatever."
Oh, and then twice in the next two weeks, I saw him sitting in a truck across from the buiding I was in....two different buildings.
So, if you're single...don't lose hope. You, too, can probably have a date with a drama teacher who hates kids and is a drug dealer and a stalker on the side.
