I don't know what's gotten into me this past month…Clearly I should stop dating. Clearly. But I won't. So what the hell? I don't know; I'm in a weird place. During the last couple of dates I've been on I've not been as reserved or as polite as I generally tend to be. How so? Instead of telling you directly, I'll just tell you about this date. Okay? Cool!
It started innocently enough. “Good Morning, Alex! How are you?” from a Tinder message from a local gal. Her main profile pic revealed a washed out flash-taken photo. I swiped through and saw a pretty woman. One line in her profile, so nothing revealing. I message back “Hello, trouble! How are you?” We go back and forth a bit. She reveals that I rock the “nerdy-look” perfectly. That was my second indication that she was into whatever it was that I was doing. “Damn right,” I thought to myself. Why not? I'm not horrible looking (yet) and, if nothing else, I'm the perfect amount of surface small-talk and shitty jokes to stretch a few hours. We spoke on the phone, she sounded cute and she was quick. She didn't come across that way via text or on Tinder. We exchanged candid photos. (Her request. Not mine.)
And so it begins…
The next few hours saw messages from her confirming (three times) that we were still on for our date. What the fuck lady? Do you get stood up much? That was annoying, but not so much to put a damper on expectations of having a good time.
I'm waiting in front of our date-spot. That's when she came up to me. “Alex?” she asked unsurely. “Nope!” I replied. She paused a moment and started laughing. I got up, we hugged it out and grabbed a table inside. I'd made a point of flirting with the hostess and wait staff, having gotten there a bit early. Not a big deal, but always nice to have girls smile and joke with you upon entering any establishment. “You get around, don't you?” My date asked, playfully. I just looked and smiled.
The hostess led us to an outdoor patio complete with a fire pit to keep warm on an otherwise chilly evening. We ordered up some wine and proceeded to “get to know one another.” We were having surface level conversation, making each other laugh here and there. But I noticed my date glanced at me twice with this look. It was, in a word, seductive. At least I thought so. She had raised her eyebrow and bit her lower lip. I mean, she wasn't super obvious in giving this look but I'd caught it each time.
That's when I leaned in and said to my date, “Look, if you want to kiss me, it's okay. You can just say it because I want to kiss you as well.” She paused a moment, her eyes widened and she shot back, “You are a cocky S.O.B., you know that?” I replied, “Look, we're adults here. We find each other attractive.” My date commanded, “So just kiss me, already.” I said, “Don't tell me what to do!” And as I was starting to say something else, she leaned in and kissed ME, which is when our waitress comes back to the table with our drinks. My date had suddenly become modest again, wiping her lips, I don't think I was sloppy with the kiss, but I think she wanted to take that moment back.
A little pain with your pleasure, Miss?
As we continued talking, the flirting continued and the details of our personal lives flowed. My date had two kids, which she didn't mention in her Tinder profile. So that's a definite red flag right there. For me, that means there's no future here. Two kids already on the field is not what I want. Thinking back, that detail just cemented that I would continue with my attitude the rest of the night. Also, something to note: the father of her children had died. I didn't press on with the hows and whys. It wasn't my business; I could see that he had meant a lot to her obviously.
We eventually got up, walked around town a bit, sharing stories about racy sexual exploits. That's when my date confided that she liked to be in control…at all times. I said, “Hmm, you're not going to have a lot of fun with me, because I always take control.” My date said, “I'd like to see that…” That's when I pressed her against the wall of a building and whispered in her ear “Look, you wouldn't have a choice. I take what I want… When. I. Want. If I want your body, I'll have it. Which I do and which I will.” My date's breath began to quicken. For a moment I thought I'd scared her…but the opposite was true. She said, “We should go back to my car.” I said, “Don't tell me what to do!” I firmly grabbed her hand and pulled her along after me.
Some minutes later my date suggests ice cream. The closest thing is a Yogurtland…and we're off. My date and I enter the joint, get our cups and sample some flavors. I walk up behind my date, run my hand up her back, gently caressing her neck. I grab a fist full of her hair and clench my fist. My date stops dead in her tracks from what she was doing. I whisper in her ear, “Hello. What are we doing?” She whispers back, “Stop it! You're being bad!” I fire back, “Don't tell me what to do!” and clench my fist even tighter. My date shudders; she's into this, yet trying to be as discreet as possible. After all, this is a family establishment!
So, we sit down, outside, with our ‘Froyo' and begin enjoying our selections. My date is having a hard time reading me. I'm having a hard time reading me. This is surely a bizarre night for us both. But I'm not done having fun with my date.
I command her to grab my wrist. I whisper in her ear, even as she whispers her objections, as we're surrounded by other families and people outside of Yogurtland. I tell her, “I'm going to whisper some very naughty things in your ear… If you like them, I want you to squeeze my wrist. Hard.” So begin telling her the things I want to do to her body and she's grabbing the shit out of my wrist. She drew blood, even! She pleaded with me, then, not to stop this time, but to…choke her.
“Please, please choke me.”
Even this request had taken me off guard. Yet, I did it anyway. Let me be clear, I gave this lady a good choking! But, she surprised me when she said, “Don't be a fucking pussy–REALLY CHOKE ME!!” Now, I need to tell you, there's about two or three nearby tables of people also having Yogurt. I had to be conspicuous about the fact I was choking this woman out, at her request, of course.
So I'm leaning in, as though I'm kissing her, with one arm around her, and then choking her with my other hand. And I'm giving it my all. This woman took it like a fucking champ. She wasn't scared or even anxious. She was enjoying this…after just a minute, maybe less, of this, we stopped and promptly got up to go back to my date's car.
It was clear that there were two ways this date would end. A solid fucking or nothing. And, I have to be honest: although it was my fault that things got this far, I wasn't ready to “get in there” and do what Baby Jesus put me on the good Earth to do… Which is having great hair, shitty dates, and blogging about it all.
Yeah, I wasn't ready.
I get my date to her car. She's rubbing on “me” while asking “What not?” I tell her, that I had fun, but I was only going to be good for one thing one time and that was it. She stops her “petting” of me and frowns a bit. “Why's that?” she asks. I tell her, that's all I can give her and that she appears to want something beyond that, which I can't give her. My date gets a bit agitated. So what was all this anyway? I looked at her and said, “Get in your car, you don't get to ask questions. We're done here.” She shakes her head in equal parts confusion and disgust and hops in her car to leave. She rolls down the window and says, “I want you to call me later.” I keep walking and don't look back, like an action hero walking away from an explosion…
I then received a phone call from her later, and text messages the following few days; I didn't respond at all to any of it. I blocked her profile on Tinder, too.
Yogurtland: $0.39 per ounce
Choking your date in front of Yogurtland: Priceless