eSmarmony--Installment #2 The Date and the Bee

eHarmony was going ok; I was trekking along with communications from several potential men. I say potential men, because you never know what you’re going to really get. The first one to get through the entire process so we could finally email each other real words was Chris. He lived near me, and seemed pretty cool, normal. So the exchanging of numbers happened after a few emails, and then the call. We talked on the phone I think 2 times before we decided to make plans to meet up. The phone conversations were pretty good. They lasted a long time, like hours, which I DONT do, so I was looking forward to meeting him. I realize a lot of things after the date that were clues to who he really was, but how would I know? I didn’t. This account is probably the worst date I've ever been on, and I have been on some doozies. Get ready and try to keep up.

A little background. On eHarmony, (er, smarmony), your profile consists of some things they pull from your personality profile, and a few things you can type in to tell the world. There is a question there that asks "What is something only your best friends would know about you?” My answer is "That I have an irrational fear of flying insects...but you'd know that if you were around me when something flew by". When me and Chris were having our conversation, he had asked me about it. I simply told him that I am extremely afraid of bees and wasps and the like. Not flies, but if one flies by and buzzes me, and I don’t know it’s a fly, the same uncontrollable run/arm flail combo and probably a shriek happens. It’s something I cannot control, and if I am--God help me--trapped in an enclosed space with a bee or wasp, I freak out. So, he asked and I told. He thought it was humorous as most people who do not have nor understand this fear do. He mentioned in the same conversation that in the fall, he wants to take me to the cider mill. Awesome, right? I haven’t been in many many years except for the haunted hayrides, so I was game. When I said that, he mentioned that it is swarming with bees and I'd hate it. Well, considering I'd only been to a cider mill at night in several years, I couldn’t remember bee swarms, but he's correct, I'd freak out. So he said again, he'd want to take me because he thought it would be funny. Ok, ha-ha, that was funny, but no, now I'm not going. /end conversation about that.

During our conversations, I had asked him if he played sports, and he mentioned he used to play ice hockey, but now only plays roller hockey because of an injury. The injury was that he was slammed so hard into the boards that his retina, or something, became detached and he had to have surgery and he is almost blind in that eye, and if it happens again, etc, he would go blind. Ok, hockey injury. No problem. Well, this got me thinking. After the conversation I went back to his profile and looked more deeply at the photographs. I am not the shallowest person in the world, but now that I looked harder, I think he has a google eye. Like, a lazy eye that looks in one direction while the other looks at you, and you have no idea where the person is actually looking. I'm freakin out, right. That is something I am really uncomfortable with. I don’t hate people for it, but it’s like..where do I look? What do I do? If I look in the direction of the other eye, does it make them feel bad? Do they know? Does it hurt? Well, I talked myself into the thought process that if he has a kick ass personality then it won’t matter, it really only looks like a drooped eye a little, and not full blown directionally challenged eye, and it is a cool sports injury. (I'm not shallow, but am a little bit at the same time, aren’t you? Come on.)

Fast forward to the date. We plan on meeting up at a local pub for some drinks. When I get there he is in his car in the lot waiting, and we get out and I say hello, etc. He really isn’t facing me, so I can’t see the eye, which of course is the first thing I am looking for, because I can’t help it. But I say Hi, and am my nice sweet self. I catch a glimpse of him give me/himself a "humph, yup, just what I thought" kind of look. I crinkled my brow for a moment, and moved on, let it go, because that couldn’t be possible. So, we find a seat in a booth in the corner, and here's how it went for 10 minutes.

Me: "So! How are you?"
Him: "Good". . . . . . .
Me: . . .
Me: "Why did you have to stay late at work?" (He worked in an attic all day and supposedly his co-worker did nothing)
Him: "Why do you have to bring up something that makes me upset"
Me: "oh, um, ok...I was just trying to make conversation because there is awkward silence"
Him: . . . . . . .
Me: "So....hmmm.....were you nervous to meet me?" (thinking that this might be why the sudden cat gotcho tongue thing is going on)
Him: "..um..no"
Me: "oh, ok, well I was, its normal when you meet someone for the first time" (Me thinking that because of the eye situation)
Us: . . . . .
Me: "Wow, its hot in here” waving my menu at my face"
Him: "no"

So, I will stop that convo, because if I have portrayed how uncomfortable this was, you’re probably hating my life for me right now. It was like that for seriously like 10 minutes, probably more. I almost kissed the waitress when she came over to take our order. And to answer the big question. Yes, he had the google eye. It wasn’t the most terrible google eye, but it was one, and it could have been dealt with, if the rest of this date didn’t happen and it had gotten better instead of waaaaay worse than what you've already experienced. Moving on.

There was a two person high top table next to our booth with two women who looked like they were in their 30's were sitting. See, I wouldn’t notice that except he brought them up several times in our "conversation/date". The first was "That blond looks like a bitch". I looked around like 'who??' (table next to us). He said something like they look like they are divorced and looked older than he thought. Awesome, because I care about the women next to us. They probably were creeped out because he kept looking at the TV above them (wings game) and because obviously he was staring at them, but maybe they couldn’t tell because of the eye situation going on. Anyhow, we finally get into some sort of 'conversation' which led him back to asking me more about my fears. So I'm scared of bees, and we went through that again. He brought up the cider mill for like the thousandth time. I finally said to him "Why would you want to take me somewhere where I’d have an anxiety attack? I don’t think that would be fun or funny, so why on earth would you want to take me there?" His answer was simply "because I'd laugh really hard and find it so funny". Awesome. This is going well. I couldn’t escape because when I went to the bathroom, it was right in his eye shot, and he was ,like, watching whenever I’d come back, and he'd even see if I asked the waitress to let me out the back door. I don’t know why I didn’t just say "ok, bye" and leave, but I endured through hell and back, and lived to tell about it. After the bees, we covered my fear of sharks, water, seaweed, roller coasters, and heights. I mean, this was lengthily. When I asked his, he had no fears. At all. Oh, poisonous snakes, he guesses. Oh really? I'm pretty sure everyone is afraid of those except the Crocodile Hunter (RIP). I didn’t quite realize his unhealthy obsession/satisfaction in my fears. He got off on them, and this my friends, was the most interesting thing about me to him. He didn’t care about what I did for a living, he didn’t care about my family, he didn’t care about my interests, he cared and loved talking about my fears. What is that when you get off by playing on someone’s fears? Sadist? That could be a total exaggeration, but the closest comparison I can think of.

At this point I was getting pissed. Besides that we talked about his job (of course, not mine because he didn’t ask or even talk really) and how mean he is to his customers that he does house calls for. If he were my electrician, that came to my house, and called me stupid to my face, I would slap him across his face so hard his other eye would turn google, and call his boss so fast and refuse to pay.
Now, I just sat there.
Me: "Sooooo..............."
Him: . . . . .
Me: staring
Him: "Why don’t you ask me some questions?"
Me: "Why do I need to ask you questions? Why can’t we just have a conversation?"
Him: . . . . .
Me: (looking around, find golf on TV) unenthused--"do you play golf?"
Him: "Why would you ask me that?"
Me: roll eyes "uhhh, because you wanted me to ask you questions and it’s on TV"
Him: --boring answer of sorts then silence
Me: "Who’s your best friend?"
Him: "Joe"
Me: silence, as to continue
Him: "what? you want his whole life story?"
Me: "at this point, yes, I do"
Him:. . . .
Me: rolling my hands as to express, let’s get it going "how old? how did you meet?"
Him: blah blah blah
Me:

oh forget the rest of that convo, you can see how it went.

Moving on...and no, I'm not even done. you think it’s bad now?
I go to the bathroom for like the 10th time. Mind you, I actually had pee'd every time, but also texted people like mad as well. When I come back, he has a 'look' on his face.
Me: with my blank stare, "what?"
Him: "I shouldn’t tell you"
Me: "ok"
Him: "no, really I shouldn’t"
Me: "ok, what, did that bitch blond do something else?" (remember every time I came back from the restroom, something new was going on with these women)
Him: "oh ok, I'll tell you. I killed a bee. I struggled a little, but I killed it."
Me: "Excuse me?"
Him: "I killed a bee."
Me: "No you didn’t. There is no bee in here." (Tt was cold outside and no bees yet, plus, I'd know if there was a bee around us ever...because..I just know.)
Him: stare. "Yes there was."
Me: "No there wasn’t. I'd know if there was an F'in bee in here."
Him: looking at the folded specials menu that is in the middle of the table like something is wrong with it
Me: "Oh really? what are you saying? The bee is under that paper?" (paper was not crinkled at all, nicely folded in half)
Him: "yup"
Me: "It's not a bee, it’s probably a fly, and if in fact there truly is a bee under that paper, why the hell would you leave it in the middle of the table and not brush it off onto the floor so I wouldn’t see it?"
Him: Shrugs and takes away the paper.
Me: Leaning in to look. aT. tHE. DEAD BEE!!!!!!!!!! "OH MY GOD ITS A BEE GET IT AWAY" is my uncontrollable reaction in shriek form.
Him: Looking very satisfied with himself, swishes it off the table, and laughs, and says very calmly "I think everyone heard that. Huh, that was funny."

Ok, are you thinking what I am thinking? Mother F-er. He totally brought that bee. How do I know? Because from the depth and bowels of my gut I know he did. He was OBSESSED with my fear, kept bringing up how funny it would be. He also, if you remember reading, he worked in an attic all day. We all know that there are dead bees on the floors of attics or window sills. Plus, a struggle? Give me a damn break. I was in shock. I was just staring. This is why I didn’t immediately get up and leave, or rather; poke him in his crazy eye, and leave-- Because he got up before me and said this:

Him: "I'll be right back; I have to go to my car"
Me: Thinking.. please leave, I don’t care, I'll pay for your beers "ok"
Him: "Here, I will leave my coat so you know I am not leaving. I just have to go to my car and do some drugs"
Me: Blank stare and also thinking.. damn, LEAVE! And I can’t because you’re parked next to me. "ok, why are you really going to your car?"
Him: "Drugs"
Me: "Yea, ok"
Him: "Oooh, no, I didn’t tell you, but I'm diabetic"
Me: "Ok. sSo insulin. Go"
He went. I was praying he didn’t come back, but also fearful to go out there by myself to find the nutcase waiting for me with a beehive or an insulin needle or something.

Oh, goodie, here he comes. Back to the table.
Waitress enters scene, get our bill please. Yes! She's getting it.

Him: "You don’t seem upset that I'm diabetic."
Me: "No, why would I care?" (Mind you, I am talking in the most monotone bored voice I could probably ever possibly have.(
Him: "Most girls do."
Me: "I can’t see why on earth they would." thinking, oh ya right, like those girls you told me about who stalked you? Mmm hmmm
Him: "Yea, there were cops in the lot and they told me I couldn’t have needles out there."
Me: “Why would you be out of your car doing that? And oh really? There was a cop in a bar parking lot? Last I checked unless they were called, that’s entrapment, but whatever. He leave you alone after you told him it was insulin?"
Him: "Well not exactly, someone was walking drunk to their car, so he went after them"
Me: "Mmhmm, right. Where’s the bill?"
Him: "So, are you afraid of needles too?"
Me: Here we go again. "Nope, not at all."
Him: "Really? So, I could poke you with my needles?"
Me: "Ummmmmmah! NO, I'd DIE, WTF???!!!!"
Him: "No, with plain needles!"

Oh. MY. GOD.!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Our bill came, he freakin paid, and we got out of there. He was walking soooo slow in the parking lot. And I kept his pace, because I was NOT about to turn my back to this psychopath. I got in my car and sped the F out of there making well sure he hadn’t even started his car yet. This is my first eSmarmony date folks. This will go down in history as the most weird, horrible, hellish date EVER. Oh, this was only a snippet of weird. I didn’t even tell you how he kept telling me he wanted to get me drunk so that I couldn’t drive and we'd have to go watch Wolverine at the movies. Oh ya. This was a total gem. This is why I waited so long to tell you my story. I wanted to let that sleeping dog lie and not awaken any beast if they were to somehow find my ramblings.

So, with this being installment #2 of my eSmarmony series, you may be able to understand better one of the reasons that I am not thrilled with my eSmarmony experience. I've had two other dates since this (with different people of course!) and they were normal uneventful dates, but this....this has scarred me. I mean, I even ran into a friend and her boyfriend, whom I’ve met once a year ago, on this night, and he told her (I find out later) that he was worried about me, because of the vibes this crazy mother F'er gave off to him.

Like I said, if he had a rockin personality, I could have looked pass the eye. But his personality sucks, he is mean, and he is a sadist, so the google eye is as creepy as he is. I think I'm scarred. I also believe now, that I am put on this earth to go on the most horrible of dates, and live to tell about them, nearly escaping death by insulin needle. Cripe.