The Blind Date From Hell
Let’s be honest: who enjoys the dating process? You spend X amount of time trying to show someone you’re attracted to them, then you go on a “date,” which is usually nothing less than awkward, then you wonder who’s gonna call who first after the date…and that’s if you do it right.
Needless to say, I was a little leery when my friends set me up on a blind date, which is why they didn’t tell me about it until I got there. They invited him to happy hour with us, and figured that be a great time for us to meet. Anyway, it ended up being not so bad – he seemed to be normal, he made decent conversation, and was cute to boot.
So after happy hour, we exchanged information, and set up a chill session (what I call a date…makes it sound less demanding). I was pretty excited about this date; so excited that I even made contact first – granted, it was a text, but still…that’s an accomplishment. And he even responded in a timely manner. Was this just too good to be true?
On the day of our chill session, I texted him, offering to pick him up from his house, thinking that was the gentleman-like thing to do. He replies, “how else was I gonna get there?” Thinking he was being funny, I respond with “LOL, what do you mean?”
Why did I ask?
Turns out, he didn’t have a car of his own. Not a big deal, neither did I; I always used whichever of my parents’ cars was available. But then he sent another text, saying “well, why don’t we just hang out at my house, to save you on gas.”
A genuine smile spread across my face. Cute, intelligent, and considerate? I saw good things coming from this.
Fast forward to me, getting out of the car, at the address he sent me. It’s a construction office – looks like a house, but obviously a place of business; company sign and all in the “front yard.” I call him, asking if he sent me to the right place, to which he replies, “turn around.” I turn and see him standing in the door of the office.
Needless to say, I was a tad confused.
I walk in, and it’s clearly a place of business. There was a lobby, offices, employee lounge, etc. I’m really starting to wonder what he was trying to imply, but instead I chose to throw caution to the wind and just go with it. Mind you, it was dark. The only lights were the streetlights beaming into the window. He leads me to what appeared to be a spare office. There was a couch, a desk with a computer, and an office chair. So I finally just ask…
Me: What the hell is this supposed to be?
Him: This is where I work, and there’s a residential area upstairs. But my brother, his baby mama, and their kids are up there, and it’s too loud.
Me: Are they visiting?
Him: No, they live here too.
Okay, I can deal with that…just means we’ll have to go out more often than staying in. He asked me to bring a movie to watch, not knowing we’d be watching it on the desktop computer in the spare office. Oh, and did I mention the computer had no speakers?
Meanwhile, it sounds like either the kids – or the husband and wife – were practicing WWE moves upstairs, and the smell of weed is slowly trickling down the stairs and into the lobby.
He turned the lights on to set up the movie on the computer-with-no-speakers, and I cracked a joke about watching the movie with no sound, and he turned to me and laughed. When he did that, I saw something that nearly made me gag…
This Negro was missing two teeth!
Chew on that for a minute (no pun intended). I’ll wait.
Now, how would you feel if this beautiful man smiled at you with two front teeth missing?! Well, not his two front teeth, but the two teeth surrounding the front teeth…but still?!
I’m not sure if I was able to hide my expression on my face, but in my head, I was screaming “Leave! Now!”
Before you judge me, it’s not superficial to have standards…one of my standards just happen to be having a full set of teeth.
So we sit on the couch – all the way across the room from the computer-with-no-speakers – to watch the movie…literally. He decides to take this time to get to know me. He turns to my face and starts talking, and this man’s breath smelled like e coli and salmonella – I just wanted to take a can of Lysol to his tongue. I couldn’t even focus on what he was saying because I was trying to disengage from the smell.
I finally reached my limit. I reached over to my phone to text my best friend, telling him to call me and bail me out somehow. He texted back saying “okay,” so I waited.
Why the hell wasn’t he calling me?! I know he was probably laughing at me, but this was no laughing matter. The breath had me nauseous. I checked my phone, and it said “no service.”
By that point, I couldn’t hold my composure anymore. I jumped up off the couch and said “Whoa…I didn’t realize how late it was! I need to roll.”
I power-walked to the door while he damn near chased me through the lobby. I hopped in the car, closed the door, and switched the ignition – almost all in the same motion. He knocked on the window and asked if I would be able to come back. I said, “I doubt it,” while holding my breath. He smiled that jagged smile of his and waved me off.
I never heard from him again.