A few months ago, I met a guy at a networking event. I ran out of "Smooching Frogs" cards so we exchanged numbers. I was under the impression that our communication would be strictly professional. While I'm normally weary of that sort of thing, he seemed harmless enough. We text a few times then he expressed interest. I wasn't sold on it, but eventually he got me to agree to coffee.
We met at Starbucks. His aura kind of freaked me out. First of all, his green eyes burned intensely into mine. I think he was going for a sexy gaze, but it came off kind of creepy. It made me wonder if he was interested in dating me or swallowing me whole. He talked about a previous relationship with a so-called ex who spread rumors about his *ahem* special parts being tiny when they broke up. He made it a point to tell me that this was not true. Seeing as I gave him no indication that this subject matter was appropriate, I was immediately turned off. I started to zone in on a couple of finer details. Two small silver hoops glistened in the sun combined with his wrists hanging limply after a flurry of dramatic hand gestures. Could it be???
He wanted to go for a walk around the neighborhood we were in. At this point, I knew I wasn't interested. But I was both fascinated and entertained by his peculiarity. I had to know what his deal was. As we walked among the scattered autumn leaves, I went in for the kill.
Me: "I want to ask you something. Promise not to get offended?"
Him: "Sure. Ask me anything you want."
Me: "Are you bisexual?"
Him: "I'm bi-curious."
I attempted to inquire further, but he quickly changed the subject. He rambled on about how romantic autumn was and how the look and smell of the leaves gave a full sensory experience. He then reached for my hand. Taken by surprise, I reclaimed my hand quickly. He asked, "didn't that feel natural". I replied with a simple "no".
He started feeling up my bun, which was a clip on (I'm talking about my hair...how's that gutter treating you). My neck stiffened. You don't just touch someone's hair. It's just wrong for so many reasons. What if it's dirty? What if it's full of parasites? What if it's not theirs and falls into a pile of leaves? Where I come from, the penalty for touching a black woman's hair without her permission is death by guillotine. Guess he didn't get the memo.
After the hair incident, he started talking about how deeply spiritual he was. A ton of adjectives describing his character had already formed in my head, and spiritual was not one of them. That damn train wreck mentality kept nagging me. I had to dig deeper. Just as I'd suspected, he had no idea what he was talking about. He went into a drawn out explanation about "being a spirit in reaching existentialism. Being a spirit in business, relationships and everything else." I'm sorry, what? Clearly someone forgot to tell him you can't use the word you're describing in the definition. Oh, and what you're explaining should probably make sense.
I once again attempted to ask about his bi-curious statement. This time he avoided my question by proceeding to put his arm around me. I politely shrugged it off and explained that I didn't know him. That set him off. He went into a full on bitch fit.
Him: "You're using negative language."
Me: "But I don't know you."
Him: "You're not even trying. You could have said you're getting to know me. But you said you don't know me. There's a clear difference. You're putting negative energy into the universe."
I attempted to explain my position further by expressing how personal experiences have shaped my view of life. He was having none of that. He quipped, "We could have a pissing contest about who's had worse shit happen to them." He shook his head quickly. "I don't like where this is going. I don't like this side of you." I became thoroughly annoyed. He began to rub my shoulders. I asked him not to touch me, and he responded, "I'm already touching you" like a third grader pulling my pigtails on the playground. I toyed with practicing some of the Kung Fu moves I learned from Netflix on him, but thought better of it.
A few quick turns, and we were back at Starbucks. The finale to our adventure couldn't have come sooner. He hugged me, then gave me that predatory glare.
Him: "Are you at least going to try?" [referring to a goodbye kiss]
Him: "Are you really that closed off?"
Him: "Then maybe we should just be friends."
Me: [Blank, confused stare]
We walked in separate directions, and haven't crossed paths since. Rejection never felt so good. It was probably the most awkward date I've ever been on. All was not lost though. I passed this picture in a storefront window on my way back to my car, and it proved to be the best part of the date.