Sunday, July 22, 2012

The Hug Zone

I went on a date a few days ago.  A blind date.  Full disclosure, it was an okcupid date.  For those of you not in the know (and you should be grateful), okcupid is a free online dating site that is quite popular among young “people” in New York city.  Perhaps there are a lot of great people on the site, but a lot of gremlins seem to crawl out of their caves to message me.  More like okstupid! Clearly I shouldn’t be dating anyone as I am actually 12 years old.  Alas, in my attempts to pass as an adult, I am trying out this new fangled trend called dating.  Let me tell you, there is no greater pain than meeting someone for the first time.  That awkward moment where you have to find them and be like hey I know you, but I actually don’t know you, please don’t murder me tonight, makes me want to rip out my intestines and force myself to eat them.  I honestly would rather eat a jar of mayonnaise than go on date and I FUCKING HATE MAYONNAISE.  But I’m trying to be less of a 12-year-old boy and more of a lady so I’ve been forcing myself to do this.  I’m not certain what god is trying to tell me based off of the events of this particular date (well really all dates I’ve been on…more later), but it certainly seems like he is pushing me towards the alone forever/grey gardens/sanatorium end of the spectrum. 

The first issue is I’m not a great online dater.  I realize now I need to study men’s profiles with more scrutiny.  Of course when someone sends me a message saying, “WASSUP BABY BIG DICKKKK” I know to run (slash screenshot it and send it to my friends), but otherwise if someone at least makes me laugh and doesn’t seem like a killer I am generally open to meeting them.  OH HANNAH.  HOW NAÏVE OF YOU.  Just because someone can string together some witty banter online MEANS FUCKING NOTHING.  A MONKEY COULD TELL YOU A JOKE.  A MONKEY HAS PROBABLY LOGGED ONLINE AND TOLD YOU A JOKE AND YOU DIDN’T EVEN KNOW IT.  YOU STUPID, STUPID IMBECILE.  I digress.

When I left work the fateful Friday night of this particular date, the man cleaning the floors told me he loved my dress and that I was gonna have a good night, so I was truly feeling inspired.   I arrived at the bar with a backpack and a bag of cupcakes.  I am a class act.  I figured if the date went well I could offer him a cupcake and be that adorable girl who always has baked goods and if it went horribly I could eat 4 of them on the cab ride home.  Immediately upon seeing Alex*, I had an uneasy feeling.  This uneasy feeling was due to the fact that I immediately thought to myself, “Is this person transgender?”  Now, I had recently read an article in NY Magazine about transgender teens so perhaps that was stuck in my mind, but I am 75% sure “he” (preferred pronoun) was a female to male transgender.  During the date I was trying really hard to focus on what he was saying, but also trying really hard to study his facial features.  He had long spindly lady fingers and the daintiest of noses  and Lady Mary Crowley eyes and…just a lady face, okay.  Granted he might be a really lovely looking man, but he also might be a girl.  So I was faced with a dilemma.  Romantic comedies never teach you what to do if you think your date might be transgender.  Then I thought to myself, Hannah, you stuck up bitch, so what if this person was born a female, you shouldn’t immediately judge them, maybe he is awesome and he is your dream lover. 

The only problem was, he was not awesome. He was a TERROR.  He spent the entire date teaching me about real estate.  “You’re subletting?” he barked at me, “Well you are going to be fucking sued!”  He proceeded to tell me horror story after horror story about his own real estate misadventures.  He made a lot of comments about his possible alcoholism and his hatred of bars/crowded spaces/humanity.  I continued to wonder if he was a lady because he mentioned being a straight male and having serious girlfriends about 200 times.  He told me how people at Dame Maggie Smith University* called him a manwhore because he had several girlfriends (even though he had never slept around blah blah blah).  He told me his boss hired him because he was a handsome straight male.  I GET IT.  YOU ARE A STRAIGHT MAN.  METHINKS THE LADY DOTH PROTEST TOO MUCH.  METHINKS THE LADY SHOULD JUST TELL ME WHAT THE DEAL IS.  He seemed super, super nervous the whole time and I was convinced it was because he was trying to find the right time to tell me he was a lady.  His lady fingers were so slender and so shaky. 

I just want to clarify I have nothing, absolutely nothing, against transgender men and women.  I fully support everyone’s decision to be who he or she is and express that in whatever way they feel.  It was just the mystery of it all that was getting to me.  And the fact that he was a meaniehead*. 

So when he told me about his sick fire escape and asked if I desired to see it, my answer was certainly negative.  FIRE ESCAPE?  REALLY?  THAT IS YOUR TRICK TO GET ME TO GO BACK TO YOUR BEDROOM?  If you knew me AT ALL you could have mentioned having a precious baby animal, multiple lizards, or nutella and I would have frolicked happily back to your apartment to let you kill me.  After discussing how I would get home, he went to hug me.  Sure, I’ll hug you, you demon, I thought, as he then attempted to make out with my face.  I pulled a quick Mission Impossible maneuver and swooped out of that situation STAT. 

HIM: “Why would you do that? “   

ME: blank stare

HIM: “Did I offend you?  Did I say something to offend you?  I thought you said you had a good time.  Were you just LYING?  YOU CAN JUST TELL ME. “

ME: blank stare/ fear

I was in shock.  Of course I had said I had a good time.  I wasn’t going to be like I DESPISE YOU, CREATURE OF HELL.  I was shocked he even liked me considering I had spoken maybe 3 words the entire date.  AND he had told me I was really weird when I told him that I got my dog in Mexico* (he was from there).  He fucking judged me for it as if I had told him I had raped a dog in Mexico* instead.   I WAS SIMPLY TRYING TO SHARE A SPECIAL STORY ABOUT MY ADORABLE DOG.  ISN’T THAT WHAT YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO DO ON DATES? 

Apparently not.  You are also apparently supposed to kiss someone on the first date and if you don’t they have permission to yell at you.  I tried to play it off as a joke.  “Well…I…Well, I’m a lady...” (HE SHOULD UNDERSTAND THAT) “I just don’t think I have to…do that…”  I could barely string words together I was so astounded.  He continued his tirade.  “WHY DID YOU PUT ME IN THE HUG ZONE?  THAT WAS JUST SO…DO YOU NOT WANT TO SEE ME AGAIN? JUST SAY IT.”  First off, who says hug zone?  Secondly, OF COURSE I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN ESPECIALLY CONSIDERING YOU ARE HAVING A PSYCHOTIC BREAKDOWN ON SHIMSHAM STREET* RIGHT NOW. 

“I…I’m drunk…” I stammered.  “Really?  YOU HAD 2 BEERS.  I’ve never seen anyone get drunk off two beers.  Sober up and then tell me if you want to see me again.”  I nodded and wandered away in a post-traumatic stress daze.  Was this real?  Perhaps I was on a new dating show and there were hidden cameras somewhere.  Perhaps I was actually in my bed and my true boyfriend Ryan Gosling was lying next to me, ready to soothe me after my nightmares.  Nope.  Just being verbally attacked by a crazy person on the street.  Ah, romance.  HOW RICH. 

I must add, I also am/was (WHO FUCKING KNOWS) seeing this other guy.  I was feeling super sex and the city and awesome and thought to myself, Hannah you can surely date 2 men, how modern woman of you.  HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA.  This was surely some sort of punishment.  YOU THINK YOU CAN DATE 2 PEOPLE AT ONCE?  WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?  RIHANNA?   

Probably just going to quit this whole dating thing. With all that fucking real estate talk “Alex/Alexa” found out what neighborhood I live in and I’m 75% sure he’s also going to come find me in the night and kidnap me and take me to his dreaded fire escape to enact whatever horrors he has planned.  I HAVE A LOT OF ISSUES. 

ADDENDUM: LITERALLY, as I was writing this, he texted me. 


*Names and places have been changed because my mom and dad said I had to.