I will acknowledge that the following story exhibits some of my paranoia, however, in my defense my gut is always right.
When I first moved to Arizona in ’07 I really didn’t date much. I pretty much went to school, went to work and went home. Although that pattern sounds oddly familiar, I was definitely having a hard time transitioning. I was waitressing at this Italian place where this guy “picked” me up. He was cute but didn’t find him insanely attractive. To be honest, he was the only attractive brown person in the area and after being around vanilla all day he was practically sent down by angels.
I gave him my number and we chatted for a bit and agreed to go out to a movie with him. I regretted agreeing to this date because for some reason I just didn’t want to go. It was like torture having to get ready for this date. I was seriously coming up with every possible excuse and lie I could use to get out of this. But because my sister and mom were concerned for my well being they convinced me to just go and have fun. Fine…I went.
He picks me up in the most obnoxious rimmed out Cadillac. Seriously, he was one of those guys that thought his car was going to impress me? I’m not impressed with a car that you can’t afford and it probably isn’t his, lets just be honest. Anyway, I’m in the car, windows down and the music is blasting. If I would have known we were going to club ‘lac I would have worn my skankiest little number but I didn’t get the memo. When he did lower the music to talk he seemed super ADHD. Very sketchy and restless which made me kind of uncomfortable but I kind of excused it for nerves.
We get to the theatre, he buys me water and when we immediately sit down he tells me he is hungry and he wants a pretzel. Why he told me I have no idea. I am not sure what he wanted me to tell him so I did what felt right and gave him permission to eat. Within 3 minutes Mac Daddy comes back with nothing in his hand. I asked him where his pretzel was and he said he ate it. You mean to tell me that in 3 minutes he went on line, shoved a big ass dry movie pretzel in his mouth and just came back like nothing? My red flag sky rocketed up. This gangsta is up to something and I don’t like it one bit.
As we are watching the movie he reaches over and drinks from my water. Doesn’t ask for a sip until after he drinks from it, which at that point I could do nothing about it but be irritated. After he put my water down I made a promise to myself to not drink from that bottle again because I swore he put a drug in it. Enters Paranoia.
At some point throughout the movie I let my guard down and took a sipped. Luckily I remembered that there was a date rape drug in there so I quickly spit the water back into the bottle. If you know me at all a lot of grace went into that move. And I wish I could tell you he drank from my bottle after that and swallowed my saliva, but he unfortunately didn’t.
The movie ended and I was so ready to go. For whatever reason Crack Daddy “needed” to go back to his place to get his “friends sweater”. I took that as code for a machete. He kept pressing the issue and I kept objecting. I was new to the area and he could have taken me to Mesa and called it Scottsdale and I wouldn’t have known the difference. There was no way in hell I was going to his place to pick up a damn sweater his friend couldn’t do without. Was his friend naked at home and this was the only piece of clothing he had? Or was he hoping he could have his way with me and then spread my chopped up body through out the desert where nobody could find me. He must have begged me 10 times to go to his house and I just kept saying “I want to go home.” I know how this works, I watch Lifetime.
So I finally get my way and he takes me home. I jumped out the car so fast I don’t think the car even stopped moving. I walked through the door and I get a text, “so will I get a kiss next time?”
Um….were we on the same date?