He Was No Gentleman

#MyWorstDate

It started simply enough. I thought I had scored big, I had asked my crush out, and he said yes. I was ecstatic, overjoyed, I felt on top of the world. It had taken me so long to work up the courage and it was finally happening.

I had just turned 20. He, was 26. We worked together, he and I were both retail managers, at a pretzel place at a mall. Everyone loved him. He was sweet and kind, he would help out with shifts, and was always doing above and beyond with his tasks. He seemed to be the perfect guy. A true gentleman. I had thought, because he was older, he would be mature, wiser, and treat me better then any of the other men closer to my age would.

I had bad experiences with men before, I learned to fear speaking up as I did not want any man to be upset with me ever again, emotional, mental and verbal abuse had taken its toll on me. I wanted to be the peacemaker, and make people happy even if I wasn't. The man I asked out knew this, and told me he was not like that. He was a gentleman, after all, right?

Our first date, it started out so nicely. Coffee, dinner. Simple, romantic, just what I wanted. We even took a nice walk downtown and browsed around quaint little shops. I was actually enjoying it, for the first time in a long time I was enjoying spending time with a guy.

It took a turn though, as the night went on. I became more and more uncomfortable, but I was too polite to say anything. I noticed small signs that he might not be a "true gentleman," but that's ok, right? No one is perfect. Besides, they were small things, not offering to hold doors open, or bring flowers, for example. I expected to much. That was my problem.

He was a terrible kisser, forceful, sloppy, insisting on french kissing as the first kiss of the night. I hated it, so I broke free almost immediately and he did not attempt again. We went to his house and watched a movie. I just wanted to cuddle, his idea of cuddling was constant making out with french kissing and roamy hands. I was not comfortable at all, but I was too polite and nice to say anything. It is a gift and a curse, I strive to please others over myself, and it will be my undoing.

At the end of the night he dropped me off across the street from my house and sped off into the dark, leaving me to walk alone in the dark to my door. This, I had thought, was my worst date. It couldn't get worse, right?

I was wrong.

I was hesitant on going out again. I finally worked up the courage and told him I hated the kissing and roamy hands, I told him again, I was a virgin, and had never gone beyond a simple kiss. I wanted to go slow, and admitted I did not feel comfortable at all with what he was doing. He said he was okay with that, and seemed to make an effort to change his behavior.

I thought the problems were solved. He was changing, or so I thought. I will admit I was losing interest in him, after his actions. However, after he promised to be better I decided to give him another chance.

How I wish I wasn't so blind and naive. I was too trusting, too nice. Had I known what was about to happen, I would never had pursued another date with him again.

My worst date, April 27, 2016, started out nice and sweet. We went to a movie, Zootopia was playing, and I wanted to see it, and he seemed interested in watching it as well. Afterwards, we had some delicious Chinese for lunch. I did, however, notice something was off. I had a feeling something would happen. He was adamant and demanding kisses, he had tried to make a move during the movie. I pretended to be engrossed in watching the movie. He stopped, and finished watching the movie with me. I did not have so much luck when we got to his car.

He was forceful, and eager to make-out once more, I was uncomfortable, but too scared to say anything. I let him kiss me, but did not kiss back, and broke away quickly.

The worst was yet to come.

He and I had the same shift together at work. So our date was early afternoon. We were to go in at 4 PM, and work until ten that night. As managers we were in charge of closing the store.

We arrived early. I assumed we would look around the mall where we worked. He had other plans.

How I wish I was not so innocent then.

He parked his car, a white, older model Pacifica, further out in the mall's parking lot and shut the engine off. The doors already were locked from driving. I turned to him and asked him about shopping at the mall. He said we would, soon.

He then leaned over to the passenger side and began kissing me again. His arms snaked around me, pulling me close to him. I could not move. He was strong, from attending the gym regularly. I am small by stature, he easily grasped me into a tight embrace.

I was frozen in fear, my body tense, save for small tremors that rippled through me. I knew he could feel it. He ignored it, and continued on.

How I wanted to say no, my mind was silently screaming it. It was as if my mind and body became separate. No words could form in my mouth, no matter how much I wanted it to, it felt like my tongue was glued to the roof of my mouth. My arms locked in place against his chest, my hands gripping his shoulder, hoping I would have the strength to push myself away.

He started kissing my mouth, his tongue pushing its way through. He caressed my face, my neck, shoulders, and down by back. His hands finding their way under my clothes, groping the flesh underneath. All over my body, front and back. His fingers were twisting and pulling at my shirt, and playing with the waistband of my jeans.

I tried to cry. To scream. Anything. I was trembling, and yet he did not stop. I was giving him all the body signals of NO. Yet, he did not stop.

My eyes were wide open, looking at the dashboard, to that damn digital clock, watching the numbers change slowly, as the minutes passed. My mind was screaming 'No' over and over, pleading with God to make it stop.

It was twenty minutes of hell before he stopped.

His once soft, kind, blue eyes were full of lust, and he looked at me with such hunger on his face. He sighed and leaned back in his seat, most likely pleased with himself.

I did not look at him, as I pushed myself away from him. My back pressing against the car door, my hands shook, fingers fumbling with my bag. I wanted to cry, but the tears would not come. I was in shock, my mind was still trying to grasp what had happened.

He asked if what he did was ok. If it was ok to reach under my bra. I could only manage a simple ' yeah' barely above a whisper.

He wanted more, to go much further. I could see it, and I knew I had get out. He started to lean in once more. I pushed myself back away from him, as a distraction to pick up my purse from the floor.

I insisted I wanted to go shopping. He didn't look happy about that, but went along with it, as, with only God given strength, I was already fumbling with the door lock and making my way out.

We walked in separate, he following me as I blankly browsed through the bookstore. Only speaking when I saw a book that caught my eye. The entire time I was in a daze, nothing seemed real.

Finally, after long, silent awkwardness, our shift was starting. I entered the back of the store's employees only entrance. I was silent as he followed me in. Before he entered fully, He said he needed to get his uniform out of his car. I nodded, and watched him leave.

When he was out of sight, I bolted to the bathrooms, I entered a stall and slammed it shut. My body leaned against the cold stall door. Hot tears threatening to spill over. I brushed them away, and opened the stall door and splashed my face in the sink.I looked at myself in the mirror, hardly recognize myself. The girl looking back, her eyes were hollow, her face red and splotchy, dark circles under eyes. Her face sullen. This couldn't be me.

I took a deep breath and walked back in. One of my work friends was back there, in a rush I quietly told her bits and pieces of what happened. My voice shaking. I did not finish, for he had walked in the midst of talking with her.

I clocked in and began my shift in silence. He too, clocked in, watching me. I pretended everything was ok. A few employees looked at me in question, they knew something was wrong. Yet, I acted as if nothing was wrong. I didn't want to cause work drama.

We had a kiosk across the mall. Fresh pretzels were needed down there. I volunteered in a heartbeat to deliver them.

As I left, the bag of fresh, hot pretzels in hand, I grabbed my phone out of my purse, and, as soon as I was out of earshot, I quickly dialed my mom. I told her the gist of what had happened, trying to sound like I was ok. She offered to pick me up and to take me home, I instantly accepted. I was at my breaking point, and I could not work with him, especially since he and I were closing together, it would be just the two of us.

When I arrived back, I did not meet his eyes as I blurted out there was a 'family emergency', and that I needed to leave. Without a word, I clocked out and waited outside for my mom to get me.

I was sexually assaulted on a date. When something like that happens to you, your view the world changes. Strangers look dark, menacing, everything seems cold and distant. A shower, and a hot bath doesn't take away the disgusting, violated feeling no matter how hard you scrub your skin, leaving it bright red, and sore.

It will be two years in April since my assault occurred. My life has been a series of ups and downs since then. I continued to work with him for a few more months. I had rent to pay to my parents, because I was living with them. I was in the midst of trying to move out. It was unbearable. I stuck it out for a long as I could, then I quit, never looking back.

Last fall, I finally broke my silence and reported him to the police. It was difficult, but I knew it needed to be done. Of course, they did not do anything, as it was my word against his. Even so, a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders. Writing this has been challenging, but I have a story. Hopefully, my story will help others who have experienced things like this as well.

My story is not over. I will always fall again and again through life. As long as I can move, though, I will stand back up. If I can stand, I can fight.

~ H.M. Eckl