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Dreadlock Disaster

A blind-date that turned into a hairy situation

By Reptile Dysfunction Published 4 years ago 8 min read
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I used to frequent this dive bar in my 20’s that has unsurprisingly been shut down in recent years. On any given night one could never be sure what to expect, especially regarding the patrons. Ranging from rowdy underaged maritime boys to full fledged biker gang members, it was usually a gamble. Regardless of the haphazard crowd, it was always a good time. I attribute this to the fact that it offered karaoke almost every single night. There’s nothing more unifying than collectively butchering some of history’s greatest hits, all while throwing back a pint.

On one occasion a girlfriend of mine who had been having guy troubles insisted we have a “girls night”. This pretty much meant we would go out to the bar, bitch about dudes that had crossed us, swear off men altogether, and spend the night dancing and taking selfies showcasing how much of a good time we were having. As we downed a couple drinks our inhibitions, as well as the notion of “girls night“, went out the window. As it turns out, one of our thirst trapping photos caught the attention of a male suitor on snapchat. Asking where we were hanging out, he added that he might stop in to grab a drink with us. Considering there was absolutely no talent in the almost empty venue, we welcomed the company.

Making an appearance as vaguely promised, he ended up taking a seat next to my bestie. Since we both had empty chairs next to us, it seemed he was more interested in my blonde haired bombshell of a friend. Having dreadlocks and appearing painfully shy, he came off as a patchouli wearing, tree-hugging hippie. This seemed to compliment my spiritual, laid back, weed smoking friend more anyhow. As if to break the tension, my name booms over the speakers requesting my presence on stage. I hadn’t signed up to sing anything, so I was a bit hesitant. Sensing my confusion the DJ adds, “I put your name in to break the ice and get people up here”. Having been a regular that often made a fool of myself up there, this made sense. Being a good sport, I conceded and quickly made my way into the spotlight.

This part of the story is almost irrelevant, but since I had to stand in front of strangers singing for more than 5 minutes, I feel that I earned the right to add it. Standing there nervously clutching the microphone, unsure of what had been chosen for me, I chuckle and sigh as I hear the intro to the theme song from the Titanic. Belting out “My Heart Will Go On” to an almost dead bar, my friend and her “date” are cackling maniacally as she’s taping me. No doubt it’ll be used against me later, I put my heart and soul into this thing holding the high notes until I nearly pass out. Celine Dion sets the bar pretty high. Returning shamefully to the table, these two lovebirds have seemingly bonded over their shared interest in essential oils, as well as enduring the trauma of having heard that atrocity against man-kind. The rest of the night goes well for me, albeit I slowly become a third wheel as they continue to drink and hit it off. Sipping on water for a better part of the evening, when I return from the bathroom for the millionth time my friend signals it’s time to go.

Getting situated in the car, our initial slumber party at my place is cancelled as my friend tells me that she “isn’t feeling well” and wants to be dropped off at her place behind the bar. I fully consider that this may be her way of sparing my feelings, and that her and this gentleman caller were going to spend the night hooking up. Without contest, I deliver her home safely and continue to drive myself home. Pulling into my designated parking spot, I notice a black truck that’s seemingly out of place. I chalk it up to my elderly downstairs neighbor also getting “lucky”. Good for them, I’m going to eat 6 hotdogs and pass out. As I exit my vehicle, I’m surprised when I’m met by the “shy guy” who hadn’t said two words to me the entire night. Picking up on the fact I was a little “skeeved out”, he quickly explains my friend drunkenly invited him to my place to play video games and hang out. As he had already deduced, she was no longer with me. I tell him that she hadn’t felt well and I consequently dropped her off at home to sleep it off. Leaving out the fact she has IBS and was more than likely violently shitting her brains out at this very moment, I add she had “forgotten to mention” these plans to me. Assuming he will politely excuse himself and go home, he flips the script when he asks to come up anyways to hang out for a bit and sober up. Not wanting to send a drunk person away I reluctantly oblige, offering I can still own him in Mortal Kombat.

Once inside, I offer a quick tour of my apartment. As I show off my prized bearded dragon he catches me off guard when he grabs my face, and aggressively tries to force his tongue down my throat. Having been smitten and flirting with my friend not an hour prior, I was as perplexed as I was grossed out. Pulling away to point out this “trivial fact“, he shrugs it off saying that when a girl invites you in they “only want one thing”. Unless that “thing” was to binge eat until I passed out, he was sorely mistaken. Reiterating that he had barely spoken to me all night and my invite had been based off pity and not attraction, I suggested he leave. Countering my objection, he apologizes for coming on so strong and offers that we just hang out. After all he had driven so far.

We end up chatting for a while before both passing out. Somewhere in our erratic conversation it was brought to light he had a roommate. Coincidentally, one that I had a bit of a history with. I comment on the fact that it’s good we didn’t end up hooking up because his friend would have never forgiven him. Early the next morning, I’m glad to be rid of him. Messaging me later that day, he tells me that it would have never worked between us anyways, citing that he was too sensitive and I was “mean”. Knowing very well he stood no chance, I take the bait asking him to elaborate. One of the first things he mentioned about himself after latching onto me like a face-sucking alien, was that he was a vegan. Being an avid meat eater myself, I couldn’t help but tease him about his lifestyle choices. If nothing else, I nervously poked fun at him in hopes that my humor would break up the awkward tension. Anyone who knows me would testify to that fact that I don’t have a malicious bone in my body. Hating to be perceived wrongly, I offer this clarification and he brushes it off completely. Having zero interest in him, I let it go.

As if fueled by competition, the infamous roommate started to hit me up “out of the blue” shortly after my run in with his weeping vagina of a roomie. Long story short, the vegan ends up throwing his roommate under the bus, letting me in on the fact that Casanova was trying to play me. When confronted, he doesn’t deny it. Bitch boy then convinces me that we should engage in a “no strings attached“ type of arrangement. Possessing no need for loyalty to his treacherous roommate any longer, I decided to hear him out. Liking the idea of having access to a steady stream of sex without the drama that accompanies having a boyfriend, I started to consider his proposition. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

Inviting him over one night after a particularly long “dry spell” hoping to cash in on such an arrangement, I’m not completely surprised when things don’t go my way. Shortly after arriving to my place when things started to get physical, he interjects claiming he has a headache. Nay, a migraine. “You have to be joking” I think, as the irony is not lost on me. Suggesting a rain check for another time, he doesn’t budge. Unable to take a hint, I end up catering to this cry baby all night as we watch Netflix sans the “chill”. He had whined so much about his head hurting all night, that my head started to pound as well. “Thanks for taking care of me” he offers the next morning. “Think nothing of it”, I fakely insist, eagerly scooting him out the door. After a few more “missed connections”, it’s clear to me that he brings nothing to the table but a headache similar to the one he had feigned.

For someone who vehemently did not want a relationship he certainly tried his darnedest to be my boyfriend. Despite growing to dislike this individual and expressing as much, he still went out of his way to hit me up from time to time even years later. In his lastest correspondence, which was just a bizarre, unsolicited full-frontal nude, the caption stated that he was lonely. As it’s openly advertised that I’m currently in a committed relationship, I felt it was not only rude but extremely brazen for him to assume that I would care and/or somehow remedy that situation for him. Having no words, I decide to ignore him. My boyfriend who is equally not amused, snaps a pic sporting a sarcastic thumbs up and quickly sends it before I can intervene. Not being received in the way he had delusionally hoped, he goes on to inquire if I have any “hot single friends” as a last ditch effort. When I insist that I don’t he has the audacity to press the issue, asking about my friend from “the bar that night”. I chuckle, knowing that her and I have shared more than a few good laughs at his expense. As I hover above the block button, I think “good riddance”, praying this is the last time I’ll ever hear from him.

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Reptile Dysfunction

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