Tuesday, September 14, 2004

The Blind Date From Hell

Okay, I guess I promised my blind date story, so here goes. In 1997, I was living in San Francisco and had gone to one of the local radio station's Birthday parties that they throw for themselves. Flock of Seagulls, The Fixx, They Might Be Giants, Poe and The Cardigans all played at this concert and it was rockin'. The Fixx looked the same, if a tad older. They Might Be Giants looked EXACTLY the same – you'd never have guessed that 15 years had passed while Flock of Seagulls had aged badly and looked particularly jowly. Oh yeah, the music was GREAT! ;-)

I saw this really cute guy and as Julius had disappeared to hit on chicks, I started talking to him and his friend. Cute guy's name was Dustin (can't remember friend's name) and at some point we all exchanged phone #s. I ended up inviting Dustin to go to the Sharks/Red Wings game with me. He had never been to a hockey game but was willing to check it out. As is always the case with me, he wasn't actually interested in me at all, but the nameless friend thought I was way cool and was intent on finding a friend of his to date me. Nameless was married with children, BTW, and I was NOT interested in him anyway.

I get a call from Nameless one day and he has found a friend with whom to fix me up and I hate to be judgmental w/o meeting people, so I agree to this blind date. BIG MISTAKE. Blind date's name is Carmelo. Julius being the adult that he is had to make fun of his name and asked if I was dating a candy bar. *sigh* Good thing I love the big lug (Julius, not Carmelo). By this time, I had moved out of Julius' apt. and gotten my own in the same building (Thank God for this, as you'll see later.) We had one of those closed circuit television cameras so that you can see the front door on your cable TV. Day of the big date arrives (I think I had talked to Carmelo prior to this to set it up, but I don't remember. It was seven years ago, you know.) and it was a Thursday, if I remember correctly and there was something on TV that I had to tape (can't remember for the life of me what it was now, but it was VERY important at the time), so when he rang me I checked the closed circuit and told him that I would be down in a minute. I quickly set the VCR, grabbed my black leather motorcycle jacket and went downstairs. When I got outside there was nobody right outside the door, so I looked around and saw a Philippino guy standing in front of a truck in the bldg.'s driveway. I ask him if he's Carmelo and he says No. I'm puzzled as there is nobody else around. I look down the block and still see nobody, but start heading for the corner, thinking he went to the coffee shop. As I'm walking away, I hear, "Just kidding. I'm Carmelo." I just looked at him with The Look and said, "Not funny." Then he proceeded to tell me what a funny guy he is. Oh yeah, that's funny. At this point, the date's 30 seconds old and I'm already pissed off. Oh, and he asked me if I was surprised to find out he was Philippino and did I care. Um no, I do have a brain and it's not like Carmelo is a real popular name among the Anglo-Saxon crowd. Just because you're an idiot doesn't mean I'm one.

We start walking up the street while I tell him the different restaurant choices we have. We decide on this restaurant on Fillmore at Jackson, called, funnily enough, The Jackson Fillmore, and as we are walking he makes conversation by touching the Senna sticker I had on my jacket that was coming off. Now, this sticker was located right about butt-level, so this guy, within five minutes of meeting me, is touching my ass. I told him who Senna is and told him that the "sticker is fine, it's not going to come off," i.e., Yo, jackass, quit touching my ass. I didn't exactly say that as I was trying to be refined, but he kept touching it, pretending he's trying to make it stick. I finally told him to stop it.

We get to the restaurant and get seated right at the front in front of the plate glass. He asked if I wanted a glass of wine and I said No thanks. He proceeded to get a glass of red wine which was apparently to die for. He kept offering me a sip and I kept saying No, thank you. I don't like red wine. This happened at least three times. Finally he said, "I'm not trying to get you drunk." Yeah, right. Whatever.

And the thing that should never ever be said in polite society was said. I don't even remember the conversation but I can't believe I was discussing anything that would induce him to say this. "So, do you like strangulation?" I gaped at him, thinking to myself "What an idiot, strangulation leads to death. Who would answer yes to this question?" And I gasp, "No" with the most incredulous look ever on my face. Everybody tells me that I should have left right there and then, but I didn't want to be rude.

Oh yeah, during dinner one of my friends from work walked by and saw me sitting in the front window and made faces at me as he walked past. I had to giggle as I was having such a horrible time at this point.

After dinner we walked back down Fillmore to my bldg. I wanted him to leave but was just not assertive enough to say, "Well, it's been nice…" before he said, Want to get a drink somewhere? Shit. I really had to pee at this point but didn't want to let him into my apt., and didn't really want to pee in a bar when home was so close. So, we went up to Julius' (see, I told you he was going to come in handy), and I peed while Julius entertained. LOL! Then we went up to the corner bar which is now John Lee Hooker's Boom Boom Room, but wasn't then, but for the life of me I can't remember the name as this was the only time I ever went in there. I had a Guinness and wondered how quickly I could get out of this and go home. For the record, the Guinness was the highlight of the night. We had the one beer and we walked to his car (which was on the way to my apt.) and I left him there.

The next day at work everybody asked me how it went, and when I told them about the strangulation line they all just looked askance at me. Someone said something and that's when (I'm a little slow when it comes to that sort of thing, I must admit) I realised that he wasn't talking about strangulation as a death device, but as a sexual thing. OOOOHHHH!!!! My friends all laughed at me for being so naïve, and for months after that the friend who had walked past the restaurant would make gestures at me with his hands wrapped around his neck.

Nameless called me a couple of days later to see how it went. I said, "Don’t ever fix Carmelo up with women you actually like!" He asked why, of course. And I told him about the sticker "Remember the sticker on my jacket and its placement?" "Yes." He was appalled that he had so brazenly touched me so early in the date. And then I told him about the strangulation comment. He was again appalled and apologised. I told him it was okay, just don't set up Carmelo again! I talked to Nameless a few weeks later and the strangulation story had gotten around Carmelo's work, so he was taking a whole lot of ribbing and he was insisting that he hadn't meant it like that at all. Uh huh. Right.

So, if you live in the Bay Area and someone tries to set you up with a Carmelo who works in an automotive garage, do yourself a favor and don't go…or beat him to the strangulation punch line! ;-)


At Monday, 30 January, 2006, Blogger Erica said...

You've definitely got my blind date story beat, hands-down. Pun intended. :-)


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