The Awful House

I have always been a bit naïve when it comes to dating, but never more so than when I was in my early twenties. I had just exited my ugly duckling phase and moved to a new town, so I wasn’t used to all the attention that I was getting. One of the people giving me attention was a coworker who we’ll call Evan. Evan was a tall, thin, with dark curly hair and a goofy smile that drew me to him. We got along well enough, but it never progressed further since he got let go soon after I started. After he got fired, he would pop up on yahoo messenger (yes, I’m that old) trying to convince me to go on a date with him. I remember a particularly cheesy conversation taking place before I finally gave in. He told me that he wanted to test his ‘boyfriend capabilities with me’. I later came to find out that was a nice way of him saying that he was a horrible boyfriend. Twenty-something me thought this was cute and made plans to go on a date with him.

On the day of our date, I showed up to start my eight-hour shift at work, surprised to find him already there. I told him that he must have gotten the time wrong, but he informed me his presence was intentional. He claimed that he wanted to spend as much time with me as he could. He spent my entire shift walking around the store with a shopping cart while keeping an eye on me. I thought it was weird, but I excused it because he was socially awkward. Sometime before my shift was over, I noticed him at the door with some fabric and a woman chasing him down. I didn’t know what was going on, so I asked him about it after I got off my register. It was easy to believe that he didn’t mean to take it, especially since he didn’t face any consequences. I’m not sure what else he managed to steal since a coworker told me that he walked out with various items.

For the actual date, he brought me to the Waffle House, or as he dubbed it: The Awful House. I found the date more awful than the location. To make conversation, I told him that I was reading Silence of The Lambs. His response was to tell me that Silence of the Lambs was a novelization of a movie, and not meant for intelligent people. I started to correct him, but the sound of him blowing his nose drowned out my words. His chosen topic of conversation was how little money he made and how he had to steal Little Debbies to survive. By the time the waitress stopped by, the table was already littered with soiled nose napkins. I wanted to disappear. After we ordered, it was time for one of his many trips to the bathroom. He told me that he was blowing his nose, but now I’m certain that he was taking phone calls. The waitress seemed to know that I wasn’t having a good time. She joined us at the table, which wasn’t something I’d ever experienced before. Looking back, I think she wanted to make sure I wasn’t in any danger. It’s a shame that her kindness was rewarded by him tipping her in change and making a mess on the table.

The date only got worse when we finished eating and went to his car. I expected him to bring me home, but he only turned the car radio on. “You have pretty eyes,” he said as he pulled some pictures from the space between the seats. There weren’t any people in the pictures, only trees. He insisted that his friends were hiding behind the trees. It had something to do with larping (live-action role-playing). I had never heard of larping before our date, but it didn’t seem like something I’d be interested in. I tried in vain to change the subject. He went on to show me pictures of himself (a man over six feet tall) in a fairy costume. Next, he pulled out a bag with about four Chef Boyardee canned meals. I guess that he’d taken them from my work and was happy to have gotten away with it. I’m still not sure why he showed them to me unless he was trying to get me to feel sorry for him.

I remember smiling at him to be polite, and then he kissed me. It was clear that he was having a better time on the date than I was, but I thought it would be pointless to say so. I just told him that it was a nice kiss, which prompted him to kiss me again. After about ten minutes of this, my phone rang, and I told him that I needed to go home. His eyes filled with anger and he punched the side of my seat. I thought he might try to protest bringing me home, but he didn’t. His car wouldn’t start, so he had to go back in and ask the waitress to jump his car. He asked the waitress, whom he’d tipped in dimes and pennies to give him a jump. Luckily, she did.

Evan spent the drive home trying to convince me to go out with him again later that week. I never went out with him again. It took five years to get him to leave me alone, and even then, I had to change my number and block him on all social media.