Reunions ... ain't they just a bitch. I stopped by Walgreens after work yesterday to pick up a few things ... and I saw someone I hadn't seen in years. Honestly, I don't even remember his name ... but he remembered me ... and apparently it wasn't a good memory. Let's rewind ...
Back in the 90's ... when I was going to the bars with my friends on an unhealthily frequent basis ... there was a guy who quite literally swept me off my feet. My friends and I were out having our typical Saturday night, when this guy walked up to my table. He wasn't very tall ... but was one of those guys who looked like he lifted weights. He didn't make eye contact or speak to me ... but asked two of my friends, Tommy and Tom, if he could dance with me. They both looked at each other ... then looked at me ... and said, "Um, okay ... but she's right here ... you could just ask her ..."
Instead of asking me, he literally picked me up and carried me to the dance floor. Oh, God ... how I want to tell you I was all "I am woman hear me roar" and was evolved enough to tell him to fuck off and walk away. But ... ... he carried me to the dance floor. Sploosh! Hey, I was young ... and stupid ... and inebriated. Don't judge me ...
In any case ... after we danced for a bit, he asked me out ... and I agreed. I was back living at home at the time ... and so he made the 15 minute drive out to the country the next Saturday morning to pick me up. When we made plans, he said we were going to go "work out together." Now, I hadn't even kissed him at that point but I assumed "working out together" was a euphemism for something else ... something with twice the sweat and ten times the fun. It wasn't. He meant working out.
When he showed up at 9 a.m. on the dot, I was near death. I'd left the bar the night before a little after 3 a.m. ... so I was worn pretty ragged. I remember Mom sitting at that big old oak kitchen table and asking him what our plans were. When he said he was taking me to his gym, she actually laughed out loud and said, "Good luck with that." He was not happy ...
As we rode into town, the tension was thick ... and it got thicker each passing mile.
You and your friends are a bunch of
alcoholics. (Um, you met me at a bar.)
Why would you stay out so late when you knew I would
be picking you up this morning? (Hmmm ... good question.)
Now, I've only been in one abusive relationship ... but one was enough. I'm a quick learner ... and I knew enough to be alarmed that morning. The guy was getting louder ... and angrier. This was our "first date" and it wasn't going well ... at all. I was scared ... and wanted out of his car.
It didn't take long to get into town and I waited until I was close to somewhere safe. I calmly asked him to pull over ... and was pretty shocked when he did. He was still ranting about my short comings when I hopped out of the car and stepped back with the door open. I held my hands up and said ... "Stop ... listen, this is just one of those things ... it isn't you and it isn't me ... people are different ..." He interrupted me ... and said, "People aren't different ... you're different!" And with that he sped off ... with his car door still open.
Looking over my shoulder to be sure he didn't circle back around, I walked the three blocks to the apartment of my friend, Michael ... and proceeded to ring his doorbell for ten or fifteen minutes until he woke up. He'd closed the bar with us the night before so getting him to answer at all was pure luck. He opened the door a crack ... looked at me with blurry eyes ... and said, "I told you that guy was fucked up ..."
Michael let me crash on his couch for a few hours before he woke me up, took me for breakfast, and drove me back home. He patiently explained to me that nice, sane guys do not ask "the menfolk" if they can dance with you. He then reminded me several times that he, Tom and Tommy had all advised against me seeing this guy. Michael was my big, gay guardian angel ... and I promised to be more careful in the future.
And so ... fast forward ... and we're back to yesterday. I was standing in line at Walgreens and looked up from my armful of purchases to see a man staring at me with the same look of incredulous disdain I suspect he'd use if he found Saddam Hussein alive and well and buying moisturizing facial wipes at a drug store.
It took me a second or two to realize who it was ... then I mustered up a cheerful smile and said, "Wow ... hey there ... how goes it?" and he turned his back to me, paid for his purchases, and left without speaking a word. Wow ... as much of a controlling, volatile ass as he was that morning ... apparently in the "First Date Derby" I came off worse? Sigh ... good to know ...
But it's the wrongs that make the words come to life
Who does he think he is?
If that's the worst you got
Put your fingers back to the keys
Fall Out Boy - Thnks Fr Th Mmrs
