… and I went in for a hug. I’m not really big on touching, but I figured that’s a good way to greet someone you’re on a date with, right?! I had no idea but I went for it, and so did he a little too intensely. I pulled the friendly one-armed hug, but he went for the two-armed-ass-grab hug. The hug lingered for a little too long too, I hated it every second it went on for, which was about seven seconds too many. Tom needed to chill but I forgave him for the excessively long hug and followed his lead into the bowling alley.
We went to the bar first, he ordered his beer and I ordered my WATER. I hate being a child. I felt so dumb, but I tried to keep the conversation going to remind him why he asked me out in the first place. About five minutes into our conversation, things went sour, and by sour I mean totally weird and creepy. Let me break it down for you:
T- So I have to ask… what’s the deal with blow jobs?
N- Uhhhh… what? What do you mean?
T- I mean like… why?
N- Well like… don’t… guys like that stuff? I don’t know what you’re asking honestly.
T- Oh don’t get me wrong I LOVE them I just don’t see the gain for the girls.
This conversation went on for longer than it should have and I was mortified. There were people all around us, how inappropriate?! He then went on to stress the importance of “super hot sex” in relationships. This was all happening while he was rubbing my legs, and by rubbing I mean basically groping me. Let me stress again how much I HATE being touched. It was just very unnecessary.
I figured that this is where all of the weirdness ends and reminded myself to give him a chance; no being a judgmental this time around, Norah! We found our way to the bowling alley and started our game. He spelled my name wrong, even though I reminded him how to spell it the first time we ever talked, and he wrote his name down as Thomas. (Again, this is a fake name but you get it).
N- Oh, why’d you put your name down as Thomas even though you put in in as Tom on my phone?
T- Well, I like to say that Tom is my stage name.
Okay? I let it go and went on with the bowling. First round I totally creamed his ass, but honestly all he cared about was mine. Every four seconds he was touching me and being totally creepy. At one point he put his hand into my back pocket. Here are some things he told me.
Your eyes say danger… and I like danger
I just love how you’re a little girl *said in seductive voice*
Norah you’re suuuuuch a bad girl 😉 *he said this because I got a strike*
Please keep in mind there are parents and children surrounding us, like stop!!
The topic of star signs came up, and he told me that each sign represented a body part.
T- You know, since I’m an Aries I represent the penis. Not sure what that means but… 😉
N- What’s Aquarius?
T- The legs, since it’s two people.
N- No, that’s Gemini.
T- Okay but you get it.
No, Tom. I don’t get it. I also CLEARLY cared about how he basically called himself a dick? Great move.
He then went on to tell me that he is a palm reader which honestly really interested me, I love that shit! He took my hand and began reading my palm.
T- I see you… on a date with a handsome guy…. By the name of Tom…. You’ll go bowling, maybe get some food, and then we’ll see where the night takes you.
With that, he closed my hand, gave me a wink and continued bowling. I was straight up dumbfounded. At one point he tried kissing me by getting outrageously close to my face after getting a strike, my reaction being “oh, it’s your turn again!” I was not about to kiss this dude IN PUBLIC in front of so many people, let alone at all! No thanks!
Eventually we finished bowling, and he suggested we go get some food. I thought we were going to eat at the alley since it also had a restaurant but Tom had a “great” place to eat, and it was right down the road! Convenient!
We took my car as by his suggestion and drove down to the restaurant. The entire car ride he was telling me about how he was a singer in a band and performed with people like All Time Low, which would have been cool but I really couldn’t care less because at this point.
We finally pulled into the restaurant and went inside to eat. I’m the last person to vocally judge a place based on its looks, but this place looks like something out of the “How to Be Tacky” handbook. Red carpeting, plastic seating and tables with laminated countertops, great choice Tom.
The waiter came to take our order and was very eager to inform us that none of the food would be prepared with a microwave. I mean, I hoped it wouldn’t be and if that’s the only bragging rights this restaurant has than I was ready to peace it the hell out.
He ordered for me which is super weird considering he doesn’t know me, and clearly fucked it up by ordering tomatoes and calamari.
I hate tomatoes and calamari a lot. Like, a lot. I just ate bread the whole time and nervously drank my water. Meanwhile, he was talking about our wedding.
YES. I SAID IT. He was telling me all about the beautiful toaster he was going to buy me as a wedding gift (GENEROUS) and then asked me how many kids I want. I said four, because it’s the truth and was honestly the only way to keep the conversation alive, and he told me that that was a lot of mouths to feed. Tom, don’t worry. You’ll never have to worry about my children.
He then went on to tell me how he makes no money at his job, and then had me pay for dinner. It was so classy! #DreamDate ❤
I figured this date from hell had finally come to an end, that I could go home and take off the amazing makeup I wasted on this night and watch the Carrie Diaries from the comfort of my own bed. I was wrong.
T- I have a plan. And it’s a super hot plan.
N- What is it?
T- I can’t tell you.
Eventually I coaxed the plan out of him, which was to go to a bar in the town nearest to me. WOW. SOOO HOT.
I suggested I drive since I can’t drink and also so that I could escape if need be. He thought that was a great idea; he was going to drop his car off at home and pick something up, then I could drive us both to the bar. Following him back to his house was the best part of the night, it gave me time to construct a plan on how to escape this date without it sounding like a total lie.
By the time we reached his house, I had to pee like a racehorse. I nervously drank six cups of water that night and was going to explode, so I went in with him just to use the bathroom and further construct my plan of escape.
I walked out of the bathroom and saw a door completely decked out top to bottom in yugio and anime posters. I figured this was his room, he told me it was still his childhood room but I didn’t think he meant THIS childish. I was being sneaky and opened the door.
Words cannot describe how I felt upon opening that door. I’ve never been filled with more regret in my life, both about the date and about prying too intensely into his life. The room was filled to the brim with Pokemon paraphernalia. FILLED. There were Pikachu stuffed animals, posters of Ash and the other characters whose names I both forget and couldn’t care less about, light fixtures of Pokemon, and so on. His bedding was Snoopy and Tweety bird, who by the way aren’t even from the same show, and his mirror was covered in those gel window decals. In case you don’t understand what I’m referencing here’s an example.
This guy is 25 years old with a room filled to the brim with Pokemon shit and a ceiling covered in faded glow-in-the-dark stars that probably do anything besides glow. I had to get out of there.
I met him outside and told him my best friend, Amanda, was kicked out of her house. I have no idea why I chose such a dramatic story to tell but I had to commit. He seemed relatively concerned and let me go after another weird lingering hug.
It was all over, or so I thought.
Epilogue: I filled my family in on the story and they were in tears of laughter. Everything from the stage name of Tom to the Pokemon, they couldn’t handle it. I eventually found out his last name and had to do some Internet stalking. Amanda came over and we dove deep into his social media, what we found was horrifying. Tom if you’re reading this; you need to delete every form of social media you have and start over. His profile picture was of him teaching one of his seven cats to drive. He referred to said cats as his “sons” on Instagram and shamelessly posted a picture of himself dressed in cosplay of the character Russel from UP.
Friendly reminder that he is 25 years old. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing; I thought this guy was the COOLEST person I had ever met. I thought I was so lucky, when really I had just spent my whole night with a wanna be artist with a bad taste in Instagram filters.
Moral of the story, mainly for myself, is that dating is literally the weirdest fucking thing we will ever go through. You spend your night with a basic stranger who could either end up totally normal or be eternally obsessed with Pokemon cosplay. You can never truly know, but you can count on the fact that I will not be on another date in a long time.