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Kidnapped in Connecticut

by Reptile Dysfunction 2 years ago in dating
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Sometimes the dating world is more unforgiving than even the harshest wilderness

Kidnapped in Connecticut
Photo by Avinash Kumar on Unsplash

Although this sounds like a catchy Lifetime Original Movie title it is in fact a cautionary tale. Nay, a warning that one should never go on a camping trip with a tinder date. Now I know a great deal of you reading this are asking yourselves “why does this need to be said?” My response to you, where were you during the summer of ‘17?

The second person I ever met up with from Tinder was this edgy tattoo artist. Looking like an Equate brand version of Machine Gun Kelly, our first date was surprisingly super fun. After grabbing a couple drinks at a few local hotspots to break the ice, our conventional date ended with us at this abandoned, worn down building straight out of a horror movie. I thought it was odd, but you might have already surmised I ignore warning signs. Now, before you get ahead of yourself this isn’t the part of the story involving the kidnapping. We ended up adding our tags to this wall covered in local artists graffiti. The night ended well, and he won himself a second date.

About a week and a few hangouts later he casually mentions that he was going camping that weekend, and wanted me to come along if I wanted. I was a bit hesitant because we had just met, but not for the right reasons. Sensing my apprehension he added “no pressure”. My holdups were surrounding the logistics of keeping up the facade that I was this effortlessly beautiful goddess who doesn’t eat things other than small finger foods or salads, who doesn’t burp or fart, and/or do anything but number 1 and “powder my nose“ in the bathroom. Having grown up predominately in woodsy rural areas and later being forced to live in an overcrowded, heavily polluted city as an adult triggered an indescribable yearning for nature inside me. The prospect of being surrounded by trees and fresh air ultimately won out, and all caution was thrown to the wind.

I had an early appointment I had forgotten about the day of the trip and couldn't go up to the site until the afternoon. Explaining this to Walmart MGK the day before the proposed excursion, his response was one of acceptance saying that he would just ride up with his family, adding that I could just meet up with him after. This was the first I was hearing of his family at all, let alone them being involved in any capacity. The entire getaway had been pitched to me as this romantic "bangcation" weekend at a resort up in the woods, not a family affair. Upon my questioning of this huge discrepancy of plans he quickly reassured me that he had his own site and that we wouldn't see his family much, if at all.

Fast forwarding now to the day of the trip, I finished packing my Hello Kitty weekend bag and called him to check in before embarking on the drive from Mass to Connecticut. I asked if he needed me to bring anything or needed anything from the store before I left. He said he had everything we needed, but if I insisted on getting anything I could just bring some Pabst Blue Ribbon. To most people this would have been the beginning and end of the trip. But being the social roach that I am, I simply ignored it with the rest of the glaring red flags that had begun to surface. Prior to my departure, he informed me it was “only about a 50 minute drive, tops”. It ended up taking almost 2 hours. History dictates that this would be yet another red flag to be ignored by yours truly, but truthfully I barely noticed the extra time as the entire car ride was an epic solo concert featuring this bish.

Pulling up to the "resort" finally, I quickly notice it’s actually an overcrowded campground. I call WMGK and am instructed to pick him up before the gate so that I can get a pass to get in. Spotting him walking towards my car, I can’t help but notice he is accompanied by a guy friend he never mentioned. This does not seem conducive to the weekend of sex I was promised, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself. They both get in the car, and I’m directed to "his site”. It was about this time I started to get weary of the entire situation. Barely stepping foot outside out of the car, I am immediately met by his ENTIRE family. Introductions are short as he only offers, "Brittany, this is everyone, everyone this is Brittany". Amidst the chaos of greeting and receiving awkward embraces from what could only have been his entire lineage, he and his friend had slipped away to go smoke in the woods (or jerk each other off who really knows at this point). Feeling out of sorts as I was just abandoned with a bunch of affectionate strangers, the best I could gather was I should sit down at a nearby picnic table and try and blend in. I was wearing shorts so short they would make Daisy Duke blush, in anticipation of getting dicked down something proper. Both of my butt cheeks were literally hanging out of these denim underwear and I hoped sitting down would serve to cover them up and divert some of the stares I was getting. Keep in mind I have a titanic themed tattoo that showcases 20 dicks on one of said cheeks, and there were children running around everywhere.

In the haste to hide my buns, I didn’t immediately notice there was a 10 year old girl situated across from me at the picnic table. She was innocently drawing, and after taking an immediate shine to me insisted I join her. Promising to do so upon my return, I quickly excused myself so I could run to my trunk to procure the alcohol I knew was there, and knew I was going to need if I were to get through this. Not forgetting “our deal” as I hoped she might, demands were made that I draw her some character from Lalaloopsy when I came back. Obediently I pulled up an image on my phone for reference, as I had no idea what that was. For those without kids or who are as unfamiliar as I was, Lalaloopsy are creepy rag-dolls that incite a feeling of unease and fear. Not wanting to disappoint my new master, I became engrossed in drawing this thing. When I did look up I noticed that all the adults had vansihed, and I was now surrounded by what I thought to be about 4 freakishly fast children. I remember muttering a Superbad quote under my breath, "he's a freak, hes the fastest kid alive". As it turns out, his "freak" family had two sets of identical twins that were wearing matching outfits. I had been drinking and thought it was the same two kids for a while, not grasping the fact that there were 4 of them because what are the chances? At this junction of the trip I really started to question what was going on. Why did a bunch of adults just leave their children with a heavily tattooed, pink-haired stranger. Aside from the fact that I rolled up in a neon green Honda Civic, I was dressed like a common street hooker. Luckily, I remembered I had brought some candy to keep me awake on the long drive, and used this to wrangle the monsters into compliance. I told them whoever drew my portrait the best would win the candy. This rallied them to sit down in one place where I could have a visual on all 8 of them. Shortly after the "contest" started some of the adults started to trickle back to the site in bathing suits, soaking wet and slightly inebriated. Starting conversation with, “what are all their names and how many are supposed to be here”, I hoped my passive aggressive inquiry would kickstart a dialogue pertaining to the reasoning behind why I had been left with their most prized possessions. Showered with praise and apologies from the moms, I was told it was just an oversight. I was led to believe that each of them thought someone else was staying behind with the kids, while the rest went to drink in the hot tub. That’s a completely logical explanation, until I recalled the fact I had disclosed to WMGK that I worked with children prior to him asking me to accompany him. Based on the lack of sex and abundance of babysitting, I conceded to the fact that I was only invited to come be their camp counselor and not the submissive sex slave straight out of 50 Shades, as I had hoped and was led to believe. Bamboozled again.

Emerging from the woods at what seemed to be hours later, my date approached me looking puzzled and asked, "why are you hanging out with the kids?", as if I were the weird one and it was an active choice. Before I could answer, he expressed great displeasure at me being on my phone during the "phone free weekend" and quickly snatched up my cell and put it in his pocket. Positive I was missing something, I asked him where his site was assuming this was only his parents site we were visiting. I was eager to put my things away, and setup before it got dark. Also, and this is most important, I wanted to escape the shitrat children. Imagine my horror when he pointed to a small, dilapidated tent that looked like it was doing it’s best to hold it together and was failing miserably. At least the tent and I had something in common. It was only at the end of the tour of the site that I realized our tent was mere inches away from the tent his mother and grandmother would be sharing. Moments away from having a minor heart attack, I realized he hadn’t pointed out a tent assigned to his creepy pal. In fact, he hadn’t disclosed much about this mysterious individual other than to say he suffered from schizophrenia and could be “a bit violent” at times. This of course being said to me non-chalantly and out of the blue with no real context. I may have had no idea what was going on around me, but what I did know is that there was no way on God’s green Earth that the three of us were physically fitting in this sad excuse for shelter. Trying my best to mask the growing panic, I asked about his friend’s sleeping arrangements. He just shrugged. I was horrified.

In a feeble attempt to make the best of my situation, I retrieved my things from the car and set out to unpack and settle in. Unzipping the tent, I braced myself for whatever may lay inside. I was shocked to discover it was almost completely bare. Most noticeably there were no sleeping bags or blankets, nor were there any amenities of any kind. In the corner I spotted what appeared to be a tattered backpack. The kind that looked like it smelled and carried diseases in addition to the items stored in it. As calmly as I could muster, I brought up this "trivial" fact along with the "gentle reminder" that I had asked if we needed anything before I left and was told no. I barely heard him as he brushed off my concerns. The little nagging voice inside my head; you know the one telling me something might be wrong all day, was no longer calmly articulating concerns and suggestions. This bitch was full on cussing me out, and I have to say I deserved it. Sparing him the brutality of my inner monologue I managed to get out a watered down version asking, “how in the hell did PBR manage to rank higher on the list of necessities above sleeping provisions?”. He again just shrugged off these "unimportant" details.

Before I could rip his head off, his sweet mother chimed in to let us know dinner was ready and offered to fix me up a hot dog. Thanks, but that’s not the wiener I’m wanting Linda. WMGK suggested we instead go to the campground's restaurant area and order food. His reasoning being he "doesn't eat meat". (Red Flag). Running out of ways to politely decline a phallic-shaped casing of meat from a middle-aged woman, I obliged just to get out of there. Having refused her incessant offers no less than 30 times, I saw no other escape route. A quick stroll brought us to this outdoor shanty. The kitchen he spoke of was more of a hut equipped with a few picnic tables and a handwritten menu on plywood. Perusing said menu just to be polite, I already know I’m going to order a salad. After all, I want to impress the vegetarian. Tell me this asshole doesn't even ask what I want first like a gentleman should, and orders CHICKEN TENDERS. "Excuse me, what? I thought you didn't eat meat?" He literally said "I don't eat meat, only chicken". My brain just implodes at this point. I’m a shameless meat loving savage. I’m the type of girl who will eat any and all types of meat as raw as it will allow, without me contracting some type of tapeworm or disease. Being the borderline carnivore that I am, I admittedly know little about the vegetarian lifestyle. I definitely think he was doing it all wrong though, as he devoured all types of meat in great abundance the entire weekend. Some of you must be thinking, “the entire weekend, you stayed the entire weekend?" Well, this is the part of the story where the title’s relevance comes to light.

As the night wore on the alcohol, as well as the allure of the trip, wore off. Gaining clarity in my sobriety, I came up with the brilliant idea that I’ll just leave. Much in the fashion of Smeagle, I asked myself "why hadns't we thoughts of this earlier". Then we remembered that WMGK had stolen our cell phone, and we can't navigate for shit. I get lost in my own apartment. Surmising that I wasn’t going to be able to just sneak off in typical Brittany fashion, I knew I would have to ask for my phone back and announce my departure. Brainstorming ways to lead into this potentially uncomfortable conversation, I came up with a slue of excuses for why I had to leave.

Sitting around the fire with his entire fam playing house, I waited for the right moment to drop the bomb. Preferably it would be a time when we were alone, although it seemed that would never be the case as we were currently making S’mores with ingredients I brought. This lends itself to many questions, the most prevalent being who brings 10 kids on a camping trip without stuff to make S'mores, seriously??? Praying my moment would arise before we started holding hands and singing Kumbaya, his niece piped up with, "uncle ___, is Brittany your girrrlfriend?" Answering simultaneously, he said “yes" as I said "no". The notion I had that things couldn’t possibly get any more awkward than they had been at that very moment, was crushed instantly. The variance in our answers incited a family wide interrogation. At this point I know I have two options: go along with this illusion he’s created that I was his girlfriend or let his family in on the "little secret" that I was just WMGK's tinder date and we had met only a week or so prior. Choosing to go with the latter, I hoped the honesty of the situation would only help my case for escape. His brother and his wife immediately burst out into a fit of uncontrollable laughter that was interrupted by his grandmother’s interjection of confusion. Having no idea what tinder was, she failed to grasp the hilarity of what I had just confessed. After taking a minute to catch granny up to speed, various members of his family started rashing on him hard. I thought, this is it! I no doubt embarrassed him and he will ask me to leave. As the title suggests, this is not what happened. He couldn't care less that I told his family that we were not only not together as he had led them to believe, but that he met me off a sleazy app, notorious for shameless hookups.

It was starting to get late when WMGK drunkenly asked me if I would drive him and his friend to Foxwoods. I used this as my lead in telling him I was actually going to trek home. He angrily forbade my departure on the basis that I was “far too drunk to drive” just minutes after asking me to drive him and the crazy dude who was talking to himself to the casino. Stone sober as I was, I pressed the issue giving him a bunch of rehearsed excuses I had come up with earlier. The first fight of our “relationship” ensued and ended with him forcefully taking my keys for “my protection”. It was then I realized, I had been kidnapped in Connecticut.

This was only the first night out of three from my camping trip from hell. To chronicle the entire experience would take a full length novel. Maybe one day I’ll conjure the strength necessary to recount the whole bizarre series of events. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy these highlights from the rest of the weekend.

*There was torrential down pour every night we were there, adding to the misery. On the last day when we broke down the sad excuse for a tent, there were "quite a few" earthworms under us. This would explain the “skin crawling” feeling I had that I chalked up to laying next to that creep all weekend

*WMGK insisted upon having sex in the tiny tent inches away from his mother and grandmother, despite my objections that I could hear his grandmothers CPAP machine and feel his mothers breath upon my neck.

*His schizophrenic friend ended up sleeping in my car which I was equally uncomfortable with and jealous of. It was better than him sleeping next to me, and I couldn't be trusted to sleep in the car, lest I escape.

*While playing a card game similar to Cards Against Humanity with his family, a theme of making fun of WMGK arose. This resulted in me having to read the responses "_____'s erection" "_____'s penis" "_____'s tinder date", many times in front of his grandmother and his aunt that was a Jehovah's witness and none too pleased.

*I have been invited to play the aforementioned card game with his brother and his wife since this incident, as well as to a cookout at his grandmothers house. By them, not by him.

*His 10 year old niece made me a little picture book when we were drawing. I thought it was a sweet gesture until I flipped through it. It was very dark and disturbing even for me. I showed her parents who then asked if they could have the book to show her therapist. I obviously said no as I need the proof of my nightmarish experience more than they need it for counseling. The book is still in the glove compartment of my car. The little girl took down my phone number and texted me a few times about books she is reading.

*His sister who had not been apart of the trip all weekend, showed up on the last day just in time to barge into our tent looking for her brother. I of course was butt naked changing out of a wet bathing suit. She got an eyeful.

*When I was finally able to convince him I needed to go home and feed my pets lest they die, he insisted upon coming home with me. My plan had been to drop him off in RI where he lives, on my way home to MA where I live. I feared I would never be rid of him

*The weekend in question holds my record for longest amount of time I have forced myself to be perpetually drunk to escape reality. It’s a miracle I did not die from dehydration alone.

*In retrospect, this is the most wholesome tinder date I've been on and I've since been banned from Tinder.

*A few months after I posted this story to my blog, a girl messaged me on Instagram claiming she read the story and was convinced the guy in question was her current boyfriend. She was particularly upset as she had allegedly been dating him at the time of the trip also. She had wanted to go on the camping trip but was that it was just a family thing and she was made to stay home and take care of their dog. Upon discovering we have the same name it dawned on me that he was trying to pass me off as his long time girlfriend to his family that had never met her. This could explain why they were so affectionate and trusting enough to leave their children with me, despite my looks warranting the opposite response.

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