As promised, this is a recount of my experience with the fourth and final speed-datee.
He had been sending me very romantic messages during the week. He sent me poems, told me that he’d never met anyone like me before, and hinted that I may be the one. From memory, this man worked in a high-paying financial role. He was shortish with a baby face and manicured stubble.
He had made me feel so comfortable that I agreed to him picking me up on the first date. He arrived promptly on time in his immaculately clean Lexus. He opened the car door for me like a gentleman, which I appreciated. In the car, one of the first things he said was that I looked beautiful (always a good start!). I didn’t know where we were going for dinner until we were partway there as it was meant to be a surprise. He was taking me to one of the restaurants at a lookout just on the outskirts of the city. I’d never been there before. Fortunately, I dress well for every occasion and was appropriately dressed for the fine restaurant that he’d chosen. The table he reserved was next to a window overlooking the twinkling city below.
I was shocked at how much effort he’d put into the first date. I felt really special and that he must be very serious about courting me. The conversation started out well and then things got a bit interesting. I believe that there’s a time and place for certain conversations, and a first date at a romantic restaurant is not one to discuss your childhood disturbances. He desperately wanted to share with me his childhood experience that appeared to have scarred him as a human. I had to repeat myself at least three times that ‘I understand you’d like to discuss this, but I don’t think that this is neither the time nor the place to do it’. The conversation eventually led on to other things and then things got a bit interesting again.
I think it was the time that the mains arrived that he chose as the time to really state his intentions. It was bizarre in that I felt that I was being given an ultimatum – to accept him as a boyfriend or not. He told me that he’d really like to court me and that if I allowed him to do so that he must warn me that he can be very romantic. I was very quiet and took a moment to think about the situation I was currently in – candles on the dinner table, pleasant classical music in the background, sparkling city lights just to my right and a man in a suit…how much more romantic does it get? I avoided answering his question as I was feeling pressured to make a decision then and there. Eventually, he let it go maybe realising that I wasn’t going to make the decision that night.
There were a few more red flags during our conversations that evening – he hardly sleeps – he doesn’t want to sleep as there’s so much to live for – his Doctor told him he should exercise less – he stays up late at night to study the flight patterns of the planes at the airport from his bedroom window….need I say more?
The date got more interesting after dessert. By that time I’d decided that there wasn’t something quite right about this man and I needed to be really nice as he was driving me home (I really wanted to get there alive and was regretting so much having let him pick me up that night). We walk to his car and I assume we are going straight home. He is enjoying the view and halfway down the mountain pulls over to where a line or cars is parked. I was feeling really tense and working out if I’d need to run or if I could fight him off. He turns off the engine and says something along the lines of ‘This is where lovers come to make out’….awkward silence!! Internal screams of panic!!! – I divert the conversation by looking out the window and said ‘The trees really disrupt the view here’. Again, awkward silence and then he takes that queue to turn the vehicle back on and drive me home.
So…it can’t get much worse you say? Well, I didn’t think so either. He insists on walking me to my door when we arrive at my house (I must say that I was so relieved to have made it home that night and promised myself that I’d never get into a stranger’s car again). At my doorstep he wanted to talk a bit more. I was getting really tired so indicated this. He then asks if he can kiss me…I, at this time, was really focused on how to cut this conversation short so that I can get inside and bolt the door down, so I figured the quickest way was to let him peck me and then it’d be over red-rover. I said ‘Okay. But, just a peck.’ He paused and spent a while thinking about it. I was getting frustrated as it was cold and I wanted to go inside. He came closer to me and I moved my head closer so that the peck would be over and done with in a split second. Eyes closed (rooky error) I didn’t see his open mouth come at me! He open mouth kissed my closed lips!! I pulled back and said ‘I said ‘a peck’’. He apologised and said that he wasn’t ready. I then said goodbye and excused myself – thank the heavens that that was over!
Sooo….he sends me a message the following day asking if we can talk. The message is followed soon after by one saying that I made him feel uncomfortable with the kiss that evening…I honestly thought he was joking…turns out he was serious. He phoned soon after my reply and then things got strange. He told me he had been molested as a child and that me forcing a kiss on him the night before had made him feel very uncomfortable. He told me that it was as if I ‘wanted to jump his bones’ (I have never been so offended in my life!). I told him it was best if we didn’t see each other again and then he started getting angry. He told me that I was the reason why things weren’t working out and that I was orchestrating the demise of the relationship. He even started crying at one point he was so upset. I decided not to talk anymore and he ranted and ranted and ranted for a good 15 or 20 minutes. If he didn’t know where I lived I would have cut him off. I tuned out and was trying to figure out how best to end the conversation. He paused intensely and glared down the phone waiting for my rebuttal. After maybe a minute I calmly said ‘This conversation is going around in circles. I think it should end’. This set him off on another rant-rage for a food 5 minutes and he ended with “this conversation isn’t going anywhere, I’m going!” and hangs up. Phew! Such a relief to get off the phone.
I am pleased to report that he did not end up stalking me (that I know of) and never contacted me again. I was lucky and have been extra weary of who I’m dating and who’s car I’m in since.