BLIND DATES AND BLEEDIN ‘ HEARTS!

I have the unfortunate knack of attracting the douchiest, whackiest, creepiest...human beings on this planet. I am pretty sure if intelligent extraterrestrial life actually existed, and not that crop circle cock and bull, my telepathic channel would be jammed by a majority of arsehats and weirdo aliens. Eventually, it would be detrimental to my overall well being and soon my brain would start leaking through my nose.

 It does feel like a cosmic joke sometimes. The gods and guardians of the universe get this demure  pretty young woman, all cheek bones and knees, child-like nature and a voice to match, spray her generously with creep trail pheromones then sit back and watch from the heavens as her life unravels. In as much as my better twisted, dark half knows me better than most people, Wolf would  probably join the masses in suspecting that some of my claims are grossly exaggerated or figments of my wild imagination; I swear to you (and you all know it’s bad to swear) you cannot make this stuff up!

Once I spent 8 hours …8 long excruciating hours listening to this guy I just met days before, prattle on about himself and his imaginary wealth and admiration for Hitler (yes the Nazi)! I could not get a word in edgewise and not for a lack of trying. So the whole time I sat there with this baffled expression on my face which he must have mistaken for interest and awe. When I finally couldn’t take a word more or will my ears to bleed profusely and drown the self delusional sanctimonious prick, I asked him politely to leave; to which he replied he couldn’t because the rain had just started drizzling and he was asthmatic. Though I hoped for the sake of humanity he would go into an asthmatic coma there and then, I still couldn’t find it in me to kick him out!

Wasn’t that bad right?  Okay let me up the ante. One time, I was chatting with this acquaintance I had made a few weeks back and when I had my back turned this Neanderthal  jumped me, pinned my hands to my sides, his hard member pressing into my inner thigh and in the ensuing struggle a searing pain shot through my chest. Rapist son of a bitch had bit my boob!  What a wimp! Back then I must have weighed 45 kg but he still opted for the sneak attack. When I finally managed to wrestle him off me and barricade myself in the house, he said and I quote “there is no denying there is something strong between us” I sure hoped he was referring to his teeth on my breasts. Well, the creep stalked me for weeks after that and I had to call in favors and muscles to scare him way.

These were just but a few acquaintances worth mentioning.  Strangers have not been left out of the skewed sense of being swept off my feet…literally. I was at a rave in Westlands (I don’t understand the attraction of freaks, perverts and teenage boys to Westlands. The clubs are really tiny spaces with no seats). There I was, forever young, riding a vodka high, wiggling my bony behind to intoxicated oblivion, when suddenly I couldn’t feel my feet planted on the floor yet I was moving…floating.  I was being carried off by a strange hideous man…probably to the trunk of his car, I couldn’t know for sure.  The shocker is I have been a close victim of dance floor abduction on two different occasions, with two different strange weird men!! What are the odds of that happening to a person twice?! Luckily, my male friends came to my rescue...on both occasions.  One of the abductors actually stalked me the whole night in that club. At one point, I thought he had gotten bored and left or had  been scared off by my “protection detail” and I attempted to go back to the dance floor when rough hands grabbed me by the belt and it broke off at the buckle as I made a run for it.

The funniest club encounter was this tipsy old geezer in his fifties who kept on slobbering in my ear about how he loves me and asking if I loved him back, his arms tight around my waist as I tried to wriggle free. It was paternalistic and creepy. My skin crawled out of sheer revulsion; I scrubbed myself like a rape victim when I got home! Those are among the few experiences that I have managed to get over.

You are probably thinking I just have bad run in with men but good people, women have pulled a number on me too! Back in the day when all my relationships were at the peak of dysfunction and Wolf would have gladly set me up on a blind date with a bag of shit just to appease my temperament or whatever twisted experiment or test I was on depending on the shape and position of the moon. I went on one of the most memorable blind dates ever. Suffice to say, it was horrible! She came in red Bata bathroom slippers…I am not that much of a snob but I draw the line at slippers; you only get one chance at first impressions. I didn’t however pretend to answer a call and cross the road in spite my instincts urging me to. Her smile revealed this arresting gap between her front teeth. Honestly, it was distracting. One of the things she did happen to mention after exchanging the usual awkward pleasantries was that she didn’t have any money on her (surprise! surprise!). I bought her a soda and watched transfixed, the straw wobbling between her teeth as she slurped noisily. She proceeded to tell me her whole life story at the orphanage, her adopted family and unmasked desperation for somebody to smother between those bra-less mounds. Turning her down wasn’t a walk in the park either. She inquired on why she couldn’t be my happily-ever-after and what sacrifices she was prepared to make to be my type, though she failed to mention the slippers. I tried to break it down for her in the simplest, roundabout way possible but it was like explaining alpha behavior to a lap dog. Despite Wolf’s insistence to split, I stuck it out till she was done.  She eventually gave up and asked me to hook her up with my least favorite ex. I didn’t. Not to toot my own horn, but I am a nice person…too nice maybe.

I finally had enough of blind dates when I had lunch with these two butch women, on separate occasions who tried to go all PDA on me during the date yet I barely knew them; talked about their ex-girlfriends and imaginary haters the whole time. After the date, they incessantly called and texted. One of them actually dropped the L-bomb before the night was over. When I finally got fed up, I stopped picking calls and texting back. She went all psycho on a text message and never contacted me again!(phew!). Some lesbians do U-haul on the first date!!!

Consequently, I have become jaded and disenchanted about meeting new people, making new friends and going on first dates. When you meet that one person who keeps you on your toes, in constant wonderment; someone you can talk to about everything under the sun, have deep discussions with, gossip with, get stoned, drunk and stupid with; fight, cry and whine to, have bitch fits at; who makes you smile, blush furiously and laugh hysterically, life is good. At the end of the day, the consummation of our passion takes me to the edge of nowhere and back to earth! Red riding hood is in no hurry to meet up for that one drink. She is supercalifragilisticexpealidociously trotting across the sands of time with the Wolf on her scent trail!