Let us begin....
I, not so long ago, went on my first official date. Now I've had boyfriends before, albeit few and far between, but I've never been on one of those awkward-drinks-stifled-conversation happenings I've seen on shows like Friends. So when this boy I would see around asked me if I wanted to go out for a drink sometime, after blowing him off for a couple of weeks out of sheer anxiety and nervousness, I said yes. "Great!," he said. "It's a date." Ugh. No pressure. But the reason I agreed to it was that he seemed very sweet and shy and I thought he was cute so, at the age of 29, why not go on my first date?
Anyway, the next day I put on a pretty pink dress, did my hair and makeup and took a shot of tequila as I prepared to meet Mr. Mexico.We met after work and decided to go to one of my favorite bars that has a great happy hour and somewhere I would feel comfortable (a suggestion from my friends). The conversation on the way over was a little awkward. I asked most of the questions and he gave short answers, but we both admitted to being nervous and both had had a little to drink to ease our nerves.
When we got to the bar we put our things down on a table in the corner, away from anyone so we'd have privacy, and went to the bar to get our drinks. While ordering, a group came and set up camp next to our table. "Great," I said. "Company". He asked if I wanted him to make them leave. Now this was the first thing I thought was a little weird but I let it go. It was this kind of macho way of saying it that caught me off guard. We went and sat at another table out of the way, sat across from each other and began our date. As we were chatting we were drinking frozen margaritas. Now, to be fair, these drinks at this particular bar are very strong but I drink them often and have been going there for years so I'm sure my tolerance is up. They are not for the faint of heart.
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| This is actually something I nicknamed the "Roofie Coolata" but it's from the same bar and similar to the Frozen Margarita |
Here's where things started to get a little...interesting. Our date basically consisted of me asking him a lot of questions about himself to learn more about him. I was feeling more open as the drinks were a-flowin' so I was filling in any blanks in the conversation with bad jokes and charming anecdotes. Here are some things I learned about him during our conversation:
-He had been in a gang (had been later turned out to be is currently in)
-He owned guns (2, and he was quite proud)
-He had gone to Riker's island for a year for gun possession (actually gun possession while selling drugs)
-He had 6 tattoos (including a pot leaf with gang letters intertwined, a Mexican flag, a scorpion, an angel and a devil- actually later it turned out to be 7 tattoos. He also had a heart with his first girlfriend's name on it from when he was 16 that he originally hid from me)
-He dropped out of high school (I am not one to judge, and to each his own, but when I later asked if he had ever been to another country besides Mexico, he said only North Carolina :/)
Now I am actually more drawn to people with different backgrounds from my own so I don't want to sound like a snob but 1 of these facts above could pass, maybe 2 or 3 even but with all 5 points I began to wonder if Mr. Mexico was Mr. Right.
And the night continued....
Mr. Mexico and I drank more and he kept up with me, drink for drink. The conversation got a little weird. He was getting a little moody, saying things like he wanted me to take care of him and support him. He told me he'd take me to Mexico where, in his words, the men would try to kidnap me but he'd beat them up so I'd be safe (any girl's dream vacation). He told me he loved me (Date #1 might I remind you) and that I was his girl, and I belonged to him. And then things got even more interesting.....
I went outside to smoke a cigarette and he joined me. He thought it would be a good idea to smoke weed. Bad idea. We went back to the bar and I went to the bathroom. When I opened the door, there he was. He pushed me inside and tried to kiss me. "What are you doing?" I said. "Let's get out of here." And that's when he did it. Yes, ladies and gents, next thing I know he was lifting his shirt, pointing down to his crotch, saying "this is for you, this is yours". When I looked down, there it was. He had whipped it out in all of its glory. Horrified, I pushed passed him, and went back to our table, where some friends had joined us. Dear God, help me!
He came back up the stairs and I went outside to smoke another cigarette (and to figure out what the next plan of action was). He joined me. I tried to convince him that he should go home but he was getting pissy. He didn't want to go. I saw my friend leaving so I quickly waved goodbye to Mr. Mexico and ran to my friend. We went around the corner where I told him what had just happened. As we were talking, I saw Mexico go inside the bar so I ran for it. I walked as fast as I could to my friend's house (oh, might I add that my phone had been turned off so I had no way of sending an SOS).
I hustled for a couple of blocks until I had this feeling that I should turn around...and when I did BAM! Mr. Mexico had been following me the whole time! He then, while I desperately tried to get him to take a taxi, kept asking me to get a hotel room with him. I said "listen, buddy. I'm not that kind of girl." Do you know what he said?? "Oh. Well I didn't know" Haaaa.
Anyway, after he walked me most of the way to my friends house I finally called him a cab and pushed him into it. He tried to grab my arm and pull me in but I got loose and shut the door, running up to my friend's apartment. He later told me he had thrown a $20 at the driver gotten out and went looking for me. He didn't find me.
Oh, and when I later asked him why he had thought it a good idea to whip out his junk he said, "well, it just seemed right at the time." Priceless.
Wait til I tell you about our second date ;)
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