Bridget, who was at least an 8 on the hurricane disaster scale, was introduced to me by a friend who gave her my email address. My friends are trying to help, this is great right? If I didn’t have special place in my heart this friend that set me up on this one… I would have taken a tack hammer to their face! Prepared, I was not! Regardless of the fact that there were no red flags, I should be considered for the worst Boy Scout Ever award. Yes, I was a boy scout.
I arrived early to the rendezvous and decided to kill some time. I went over to the music store to find a Saving Abel or a Daughtry CD. It’s about time to meet Bridget, so I head back out to the parking lot. You ever get that eerie feeling you’re being watched? You know like you’re the zebra on a nature show and some jerk off camera man is watching you, right before some lion makes a snack out of your ass. Seems my intuition did not fail me, because apparently I was being targeted for a hit and run. I answer my phone and the first words out of her mouth were “Is it ok if I run you over”, I replied, “Sure that’s one less dinner I have to pay for”.
So I am 20 ft from my car and she offers me a ride. Looking at my car and then back at her, now confused I inform her I can walk, she pulls the,” oh you don’t want to ride with me” line. I got into this car and the rich scent of road kill assaulted my nose. I succeeded holding back a gag reflex and my usual bad habit of speaking my mind when the situation makes it convenient for me, but my conscious won this time, my mouth stayed shut and I think I had a tear in my eye. Here is some advice, if you are trying to impress someone or just offer someone a ride, three words, CAR AIR FRESHENER! On a side note, it is probably a bad idea to unleash your opinion on someone you barely know. But, that’s just my view. (Trying this yourself will bring varied results, attempt at your own risk!!)
Back to the story, it’s amazing how 20 feet can feel like 2 miles. The car parks next to mine and I pop the car door open like an airlock from a Sci-Fi movie. Fresh air rushed in and I was saved… Now watch what happens:
Bridget: Where are you going?
Me: Uh, to my car, I thought I was driving…. (Yes I did say Uh)
Bridget: You want me to drive?
Time out, flag on the play, not 10 minutes ago I talked to this woman and we agreed to I was driving and planned the destination.
Me: Well, if you want to drive, I guess.
Bridget: You have something against women drivers?
Me: No, I do not you can drive if you want.
I get back in the car, and yes I am crying again. I start doing what any normal person would do, formulating the escape plan. Its evident this date is going for the alternate ending of Titanic, I can hear it now, “Never let go”, and the response to that is “This raft isn’t big enough for the both of us” BONK. Since, she forgot our plans in the time span of 10 minutes and asked me where I wanted to go eat. I took the opportunity to put plan B to work; and you may be saying hey you’re supposed to be a nice guy. Well, I am, but I have limits too.
I chose a nearby restaurant, when I say nearby, I mean within running distance of my car. We park, I quickly remove myself from the mini garbage dump she calls a car, and enter the restaurant. Of course, I opened the door for her being the gentleman that I am. Fortune was smiling upon me as I noticed the stench, that I think could be identified as a water buffalo, had not followed us from the car.
Now, this is where you can go from worse to “I would rather turn a power drill on high and sit on it than suffer through this.” (Warning, if you are having trouble up to point, I suggest you turn back, it is not getting any better.)
The waiter seats us and the conversation begins, which I had a feeling was going to blow any chance of normalcy. The questions start talking about family and it spreads into drinking. This is basically how it went down.
Bridget: So do you drink?
Me: No, I drink on special occasions.
Bridget: Oh, I get trashed all the time.
Me: You drink a lot then?
Bridget: Well, no it’s been a month since I got totally trashed. I still have beer in my fridge that I haven’t drunk in months. Some Alcoholics drink too much.
Me: Wait, did you really just say “Some Alcoholics drink to much?”
Bridget: Yeah, well it’s true.
Me: RRRRIIIIIGGGHHHHTTTTT!
By now the drinks have been dropped off along with the complimentary bread so I offer her a piece, then proceed to eat three fourths of it and the half the appetizer, keeping my mouth shut in hopes of choking myself out of this situation. The worst part, I realized what I was doing and that didn’t stop me. Note to self, when your mind overrides your natural instinct for self preservation, we have a problem!
Ever get that feeling where everything you do just goes horribly wrong. It is not a feeling here, more like a ten pound sledgehammer nailing a railroad spike into my skull. Afraid of what unintelligent gibberish she would disclose of her family reunions, where they drank like fish in a sea of cheap beer, I was not impressed. I try moving conversation forward; I told her I may be looking for a second job. Without any real thought, she says “You can be my pool boy”. At this point I wasn’t even sure her brain could retain instructions on how to breathe without a For Dummies book that had illustrations instead of words.
Let the record show the deliveries of her pick up lines were like watching Mayor Mallory throw the opening pitch. Yes, I went there, for those of you who do not get that reference, YouTube is your friend. Enjoy
Bridget: So what else do you like to do in the bedroom?
Me: Um. I am not exactly sure what you are referring to; you will have to give me an example.
Bridget: Besides sex and sleep…
Me: What else is there to do?
Bridget: There is this thing called oral sex?
Me: Doesn’t that fall into the category of sex?
Bridget: I guess so…
You know that look a deer gives you as your head lights hit him in the eyes, freezing him in fear, followed by your front bumper connecting with his face, crumpling your car like a piece of aluminum foil. I think I was the bumper.
Dinner finally landed on the table causing the conversation to die out, I don’t think I had enough food left on the table to keep my mouth shut. My stomach was hurting. . Dinner comes to an end, along with this nightmare. I was able to stop looking for something chew on when the check came.
This is important for what happens next, so visualize this, we leave the restaurant. I open the door and she walks out toward the car. I am about two feet behind her and to the right and she out of left field says, “Are you staring at my breasts?” Not only am I confused, but where the hell did this come from? I say, “No how can I, you are in front of me; she responds, “I don’t know…. I am just kidding”…. I am going to say it, because I know you’re thinking it. Kidding my ass!
We get back to her car, I open the door weeping again, I strap myself in and she turns and looks at me, Are you having fun she says? Oh yeah lady, stomach is about to explode, it smells some water buffalo got lucky in your back seat, and I think I could have more mentally stimulating conversation with Sarah Palin. Oh yeah this lot of fun! (Internal Monologue for the win!). The bomb drops, “So what would you like to do now.” I say, Well, um we can walk around the mall, being that its 100 feet from my car and minimizes the amount unbreathable air I have to suffer through.
We walk into the mall and start wandering, and I start checking my phone, in hopes of a rescue mission to take place, but it was 8:45 and extraction was not expected until 9. We turned the corner, and walked past one of those college stores. She got all jumpy and excited, ‘We have to go in there”, she says. I comply and follow her in. This is very strange because she told me she is an Alabama fan; there were actually a few tee shirts and two shelves, each about a foot long. To my surprise I see the mascot for is an elephant. This is just way too easy, I said to myself, “Are you sure you’re a fan or are the mascot?
After a quick stop into this store she gives me a lesson about shopping for college fan gear, and since I’m such a nice guy, I am going to pass on this little gem of information on to you. If you want to buy Alabama college stuff, apparently, there is a large selection of it in Alabama. Feel good that I am not hording all this shopping information to myself.
As our walk around the mall continued, I informed her about my experience in the Marines, you would swear I was talking to a gerbil. Here we go again…
Bridget: So do you have something against women in Camo?
Me: (Dramatic Pause).I was in the marines. I lived with them, why would I have a problem?
Bridget: I was just wondering, because my uncle has a farm and we go up there and go camping. But they don’t do any real farming there anymore and they all moved away from there, but we still call it a farm. I am a bit of a country girl. (You think?)
Me: So what you’re saying is you go camping at your uncle’s farm?
Anyone else feel immense unbearable pain in their skull? You don’t even have to relive this as you write it….9 pm rolls around and I get a text message from my friend.
“Call you 1 yes 2 no”
My response “OMG save me”
She calls me I have a 10 min conversation with myself, pretending that my mother is on the phone and my escape plan code named “Do Over” is just sitting there articulating random syllables into the phone and laughing at me. I love my friends, knowing my pain brings them joy, just makes me want to do it again….NOT!I hang up the phone and Bridget enlightens me on her past.
Bridget: So you’re a mama’s boy?
Me: Yes, I was but not so much anymore….
Bridget: I hate mama’s boys, my ex husband was a mama’s boy.
Me:Oh...
Bridget: You figure I would of seen the divorce coming when my ex husband was living with his mother until the day we got married at age 26.
Me: I….I got nothing.
We leave the mall and walk to our cars and chatting for a minute. As I give her the half hearted friend hug, she snaps at me, “Did you just crush my breasts?”
Can someone please explain to me the proper mechanics of a hug?
It's barely been 12 hrs and I get an email. I tried to be civil and tell her she needs to work on her confidence and be happy with herself before she continues on this path of dating people.We go back and forth with emails and I am trying to explain in the nicest of ways that I am just not interested. Nothing I say is getting through and she keeps rebutting my opinion like I am actually having a discussion. With no other options available to me, I spell it out as slowly and clearly as possible, "WE CAN JUST BE FRIENDS", yes i did use caps.The final email from her was “Should I delete your email and phone number?”
Alas, the world will weep, as there will be no sequel to this great tale… Yeah right! I should have let her hit me with her car…
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