I’ll beg forgiveness for my absence from this blog lately. There’s events going on in the background that have taken up a lot of time that, hopefully I’ll be able to talk about shortly. In the meantime, you have to settle for the same old idiocy that makes up my life.
Before you ask, I’m going to state right up front, that all of the below is true.
Way back, long before the days when I became the studmuffin I am today (okay, I can’t eventype that without choking), I was terribly shy when it came to asking girls out. Pathologically shy.
Okay, I flat out couldn’t do it.
A friend of mine at the time, a very sweet and funny Irish girl known as Dee-Dee decided she had a friend who would “be perfect for me.” I’ve since learned to dread those four horrible words and, anytime anyone has suggested them to me about someone, I’ve learned to run screaming in the other direction. I also learned to never go on blind dates again. All because of the events I will now illuminate for your enjoyment.
Because I was reasonably awkward, I only agreed to the blind date if Dee-Dee came along with her boyfriend. Turns out her boyfriend couldn’t come, so I got a male friend of mine to tag along to make it a nice even boy-girl-boy-girl thing. There was no romantic intentions considered between my friend and Dee-Dee. To protect his anonymity, let’s refer to my Scot-born friend as “Al” and leave it at that.
The arrangements were made and at the appointed time, I picked up Al, then, still in sweating trepidation, went to meet Dee-Dee and my date. I confess I’ve completely forgotten her name, so let’s call her Eve.
I’ll admit, I was pleasantly surprised when she came to the door. Petite, with long brown hair and a pretty face and prettier smile. I’m sure the happiness I felt was balanced by the disappointment on her end seeing a 6-foot, 3-inch tall, 140 pound stick man as her date. Oh yeah, she hit the jackpot all right. But she seemed pleasant enough, and we all clambered into my 1972 dark green, ugly-as-sin, big-as-a-cruise-ship Ford LTD. By the way, this would have been around 1984 or so, and those dozen years had not been kind ones to the Green Monster (as it was known). So, I’m guessing that may have been strike two against me with Eve.
Now, what you need to know about Dee-Dee and Al at this point. Dee-Dee was a very happy, bubbly jokester with a thick Irish accent and a hilarious sense of humour. Al had fully adopted a Canadian accent, having come over as a very young child, but could break into a thick Scottish brogue at the drop of a hat, and his sense of humour, while a little on the nerdy side (like mine) was razor sharp. While not the most comfortable around girls, when there was no pressure on him to be an Attractive Male Companion, he could relax and be himself, which he did here.
As for Eve, parked up front in the passenger seat with yours truly, she seemed a little quiet, but I put that down to the same nerves I felt at having two observers in the back seat scanning for any signs of romantic spark.
The plan, as devised by Dee-Dee, and in retrospect, should have been my first clue that the night would not go as planned, was to go to a bar in the north end of Oshawa. Full disclosure here: I don’t drink, I don’t smoke and I don’t do drugs. Never have. So a pre-anti-smoking law smoke-filled bar full of patrons consuming alcohol? Not my best location for wooing. And while my dancing skills are on par with a three-legged dog cursed with a case of the shits, it would at least have been a good distraction here. No dance floor. Can I get a strike three?
Anyway, I parked the Green Monster around the back of the bar and we headed in. Dee-Dee and Eve ordered up some drinks, Al ordered a Coke (he also didn’t drink) as did I. I dutifully bought the first round. I mean, good lord, I was rolling in the dough, working at Arby’s at an astronomical $6.25/hour.
Oh, I didn’t mention I worked at Arby’s did I? Strike four.
Anyway, to give us some “get to know you” time, Al and Dee-Dee moved over to another table, actually one of those table-top Pac-Man games. Al was addicted to the damn things. As I heard him play and Dee-Dee whooping, I turned my attention to the attractive girl in front of me.
Again, full disclosure, I was lousy at talking with women, so my guess is the conversation was awkward, stilted and horribly boring. We quickly determined that we have extremely little in common but resolved to make the best of it and at least have a fun night out. You know what? I was fine with that arrangement.
If only she had stuck to it.
I think the mistake I made in the verbal contract was not spelling out that we at least have a fun night out as the group of four. Instead, she quickly mentioned getting a refill on her drink. I offered to buy, but she said no, don’t worry about it and, glass in hand, headed to the bar.
And never came back.
She found a rather stunning male specimen at the bar and chose to at least have a fun night out with him instead. Now, I didn’t give a shit that she wasn’t interested in me, but at least have the decency to tell Adonis that she’s kinda stuck with someone tonight and get a number. Or come back over and say the plans have changed and she’s hanging with Adonis and the other Gods for the evening. Either would have suited me.
After a while, Dee-Dee became aware of the situation and, though the three of us had a good time, I could see her consistently happy mood fall away by degrees as she became increasing peeved at Eve for her rudeness.
After a couple of hours, we decided to pull the plug on the evening. Dee-Dee went over and told Eve we were leaving and Eve told her she would just be a minute. We gathered our coats and headed toward the door.
After fifteen minutes of standing there like a group of losers, no Eve in sight, Dee-Dee said she was going to go get her. I said I’d do it.
I walked up to her and Adonis, got the obligatory stare from the God where he measured me up and down and found me wanting. I ignored him and spoke clearly and firmly to Eve. “Dee-Dee, Al and I are leaving,” I said. “Now. If you want a ride home with us, you need to come. Now. If you want to stay and hope that Studley here offers to take you home, fine. Decide. Now.”
She said she would come with us. She just wanted to get his phone number.
The three of us left the bar and headed around back to the Green Monster. Eve took another solid ten minutes to drag her now-nowhere-near-as-attractive ass out to the car, with Studley in tow. I figured she was going to tell me she had decided to ride with him instead, but no such luck. Dee-Dee, by this time, was alternating between fuming in anger and apologizing to me.
The two of them, Studley Adonis and Eve stood in front of my car and talked. “Fuck this,” I said and started the car and put it in gear. Eve gave me the stink-eye, but got the message and stomped–yes, honestly stomped–to the car and got in. She plopped truculently in the seat. Dee-Dee proceeded to tear a strip off her and, well, to be honest, I enjoyed it so much I forgot to drive.
Then, Dee-Dee stopped and stared out the front window in disbelief. Adonis had pulled his car out and blocked me. He drove a very new, very nice, very shiny, jet-black Trans Am. The kind that had the gold trim. And he was blocking me. Dee-Dee began swearing a rather endearing stream of Irish-accented invective, Al expressed disbelief in a rather profane way, and Eve…yeah, Eve smiled.
Adonis sat in his high-performance machine, staring at me and then he laughed. He pointed at the Green Monster and he laughed. I looked over at Eve, and she smiled wider.
I looked back at Adonis, brought my hand up, shoved it sideways and very clearly, so he could easily read my lips, said, “Move.” I can still see his perfectly-shaped head with its stylish blond hair as he tipped his head back and laughed again.
I looked back at Eve, also sporting a wide grin. “You honestlylike this asshole?” I asked, but didn’t give her time to respond. I pulled the stick down toDrive and hit the gas. The Green Monster met the Trans Am in a squeal of metal, lurched a bit, but I fed the gas a bit more and couldn’t help but laugh maniacally at the look on Adonis’ face as I pushed his car out of the way with mine, slid past him, the entire driver’s side of my car squealing against his front passenger-side fender. I finally broke clear of him and, all the side trim on my car dangling like broken insect antennae, I sped out of the lot to the screams of Eve.
“Are you crazy?” she yelled. Dee-Dee kept yelling, “Right on! Right on!” and Al howled with laughter.
Truth to tell, once I got out to the street, the logic portion of my brain reasserted itself and I immediately thought of several things I should possibly have considered sixty seconds earlier. Eve had his phone number. He probably got my plate number. I willfully destroyed his car.
But seriously. His car versus the Green Monster? What did he think would happen?
Eve refused to talk to me the entire way home. Dee-Dee and Al congratulated me all the way home.
I never ever did hear anything from Adonis. Either I lucked out or it was too dark to get the plate. Or maybe it was just the universe levelling back to true.
Surprisingly, I never got a second date with Eve, either.
But I gotta say, every time I went out to my car and saw those massive front-to-back scrapes and dents along my car? I smiled.
Eat shit, Adonis. I won.