The last date
I met âLeeâ at a singles event Iâd learned about from TikTok. I was unimpressed with the selection of men there so I drank too much. I rolled my eyes at the small talk happening around me. My friend and I kept getting separated and I clung to the wall, drink in hand.Â
I made friends with a lovable lesbian who took a shine to me. âLeeâ took a photo of my friend and I on his phone. Then he sent it to me so heâd have my number. I knew he was doing this as a ploy. Too awkward to let it happen naturally. Or maybe he thought himself clever. I allowed it because he was fat and harmless. He was tall and had nice eyes and I donât care much about fatness. So maybe, I thought, I could give this one a shot. Â
The text the next morning confused me.
âI hope I didnât offend you.âÂ
Then another one:
âSo sorry if youâre upset.â
I was panicking. I had no recollection of being upset, offended nor did I have this mysterious number saved. Then,
âYou seemed drunk and I didnât want to take advantage.â
Enough now. I asked what the hell was going on. Lee told me I had ordered him to kiss me but he refused because I was drunk. This I did not remember. If this was the guy I thought it was, I would have done no such thing. Probably.Â
Frantically, I texted my friend. She didnât recall any such behavior so I responded to Lee, âI donât know what youâre talking about. Please explain.â
To this, he responded, âOh in that case, letâs drop it!âÂ
I was thrown off. Was this another scheme to get my attention? He succeeded. Before I knew it, he asked me out but that night was my birthday party. And I was casually dating a few other people at the moment. I dared not invite him. I was already feeling guilty about not inviting the man I was sleeping with (and sad about the other other man I was sleeping with who had not wished me happy birthday).Â
At any rate, Lee asked me out the day after my party but I didnât want to go to the event in question. (Some car show downtown that had a corny Instagram flyer.) But he wasnât discouraged.
Over the next few days, he asked me out many more times to random events that all sounded very adult dodgeball league. Not bad, per se. Just...suburban. I turned my nose up and refused. I donât like meeting strangers over shared interests. I donât like activities. When it comes to dates, especially first ones, I expect a dinner and my meal to be expensive and paid for.
After two weeks of these pseudo date invitations, I told him, âIf you want to go out with me, you need to ask me out on a proper date. None of this group crap.â And he, maybe embarrassedly, agreed this was an appropriate course of action.Â
He invited me to see âEverything Everywhere All At Onceâ and I said yes. But even this proved difficult.Â
He canceled the first time to watch a college basketball game with his friends, and, I, trying to be amenable, allowed this because I too am a basketball fanatic. But after the game, when I asked if his team won, he admitted he was not much for basketball. The game was just âvery excitingâ and he thought it better to watch with his friends. I was in disbelief. He was very apologetic.Â
Was I missing something? The lovable lesbian from the singles event shared that Lee was feeling nervous because I was sexy. This seemed logical. I am very sexy.
My texts turned cold. I responded with one word answers and he got the hint, scheduling the do-over and procured tickets. I forgave him. All the other men I was dating had fizzled out. Plus, with so many of my friends in relationships, I decided that in order to be in a relationship, one has to be easygoing.
The day of our movie date, Lee showed up half an hour early and started texting me, âHey are you hungry?â He was prone to a barrage of texts so I didnât know where this was going. I was about to get in my car to head to the theater. I didnât have time for a meal before the movie. I replied, âI ate a little while ago but might be hungry after the movie.â A little presumptuous that I'd even want to hang out after but I had to admit, I admired the forethought.Â
I could not have guessed what he said next. He replied, âI spotted an Indian buffet across the street and the aromas called me over.â  Repeat: Indian buffet minutes before a movie date. Itâs giving cheap. Itâs giving fragrant. Itâs giving strange.
I am gobsmacked. âDo your thing,â is all I could text him. I am in my car, boiling with rage, headed to the Landmark on Pico when I should be driving off a cliff into the Pacific Ocean. This is my rock bottom. I am running into the house fire. But I can not stew in this tikka masala spiral for long because Lee follows up with, âHope youâre not getting fancy because Iâm not.â As if Iâm the one who needs a note on how to dress. As if he would be wearing a tux to an all-you-can-eat Indian buffet. I immediately texted my best friends with updates.
âThis man is getting Indian food before the movie. And told me he isnât âfancyâ. He is a psychopath, correct?âÂ
Each of my friends was too stunned to respond without sarcasm. âMonica, this man is going to murder you.âÂ
âI know,â I responded. But it was too late. Maybe murder was what I wanted after all.Â
When I arrived into the lobby of the theater, Lee was nowhere to be found. I went to the restroom to cool off. When I exited, I spotted him. He was wearing a melange of mismatched gray hues. His grey sneakers were cheap and beat up. His grey beanie was too small for his head. His stomach poked out from underneath his henley that was a size too small. The only thing that wasnât grey was the bag across his chest that was âfull of snacksâ (his words). I wanted to leave but he hugged me, cloaking me in an envelope of oniony body odor. He paid for my popcorn and a glass of wine and I followed him into the theater. I was in shock. He reeked and was perspiring nervously. Sober now, I could see that this man was a bumbling oaf. I had been charmed by it in my drunken madness but now, at 1:30 on a Sunday afternoon, I was scared someone would recognize me with him. I sunk into my seat. Just then, his phone rang. It was his mother. He answered.
They talked for several minutes and I sarcastically said, âTell her I say hiâ. That needlessly confused her and she needed minutes of explanation. After too long, he ended the call and we were able to talk. He became inquisitive. I was asked many deep questions I didnât see coming. During a trailer for the A24 psychodrama, âMenâ, he asked suddenly if I was pro-choice. I replied curtly, âIâm pro-abortion,â and he dapped me. I rolled my eyes. What was I doing here? I looked to the exit.Â
But then the movie swept me up. I felt myself softening towards him on account of the quality of the film. It was emotional and visually stunning. I realized this date was a metaphor for life: the twists and constant disappointments. I cried and so did he. When it ended, we filed out like everyone else and I wasnât ready to go home yet. I felt high with creative energy. I had high hopes that this date would be good. Iâd put on makeup and a clean pair of jeans. Maybe I was being too harsh on him. Maybe he would take me to lunch and thatâs when I would meet a handsome stranger. I could turn this day around with the right attitude. I just knew it.Â
He asked if West Hollywood was far and I said not really. Turned out, he didnât have a car and was headed to a business meeting. He asked if I wanted to come along. The audacity startled me and I said yes. My day was free and I couldnât think of a lie. The drive took 15 minutes or so and he seemed suddenly ashamed that it was taking so long. But as we talked, I realized, through another interview session, he was very serious about settling down, as I was, and that was a good thing. Â
He asked me about my parents and I asked him about his. When we arrived at the location of his meeting he pointed out a bookstore nearby and begged to go inside like a child. I love bookstores so I needed no convincing. Once entering, he treated the bookstore like a grand adventure and pointed out many different displays that we needed to discuss. I was entertained. He read me a poem and asked that I read him one too. Then he bought me a book and we met up with his business colleague for a few hours and it was lovely. Everything turned out to be much more normal in the presence of a third party. It settled his constant questioning and he conducted himself in a professional manner. But he still sweated in a concerning way. I assumed it was from being in the presence of such a beautiful woman as myself.
Many hours later than I expected to be done, I headed home but not before he asked to see me again. He was quite literally blushing and I hated to admit that Iâd actually had a good time in the end. His business colleague was sort of cute and maybe I could see him again one day. I agreed to another date with this strange, sweaty, poorly-dressed, onion-smelling man.
While Lee was certainly the oddest man Iâd gone out with, I was unprepared for the second date he suggested. He invited me to sunbathe at his friendâs house who he was house-sitting for. I had the afternoon free and this seemed like good material. He warned me it was a long drive, deep into the valley. I needed some sun and had reading to do for class. Plus, I deserved some pool time. I started on my trek optimistically. If Lee turned out to be the man I ended up with this would be a wonderful story. But when I arrived, I had no service and Lee made jokes about there being cameras in the bathroom. I felt the hairs on my neck stand up. I was one hour from home at a strangerâs house with a man I barely knew. And now I had no cell service. He was not handsome enough to make serial killer jokes. I donât think he was even handsome enough to be a serial killer. Ted Bundy he was not. More John Wayne Gacy. But JWG killed plenty of folks too. I guess serial killers come in all forms.Â
No matter. I had just driven straight into his web. This could get bad fast. I started thinking how to get out of there. I was aware of everything he said and kept a mental log of it. I recounted every turn I had made on the way there. Worst comes to worst, I could beat him in a foot race.
The weather proved to be on my side. It provided a lovely excuse to leave quickly. The wind caused a commotion and I couldnât do much sun bathing. I needed to get out before it was dark. Just in case, I started writing my obituary in my head. I knew this scenario was sketchy. I could be found dead in a strangerâs house wearing a blue bikini. Sensing my anxiety, Lee started throwing money at me which is all it takes for me to drop my guard. He offered me many cannabis treats and edibles and ordered me a burger. I sent a text to my friends in hopes it would reach them in time. I made sure my location was turned on.Â
When the food arrived, Lee put on some Disney+ show and started massaging my very dry feet. He leaned in to kiss me and I could feel his nose running. I was sure at this point, God would be merciful and let me die of a heart attack right there with this manâs runny nose dripping on me. But no, I had to pull away from him and excuse myself. I decided that, yes, murder was my punishment and let myself make out with this man. Before I knew it, he was all over me but my mind was light years away.Â
After several minutes, he suggested we go upstairs and I agreed. Thatâs probably where the knives were so I might as well make it easier on him. The last thing I wanted was his heaving body flopping around as he fumbled with weapons. Giving him some dignity afforded me a little dignity in death, I surmised. The march upstairs was slow but I was stoic. He undressed and the sight of his naked body arrested me.Â
This was not my fate. Something was wrong. With him. With this picture. I didnât go to the gym six days a week to be murdered by an Indian buffet man with a runny nose. I was a beautiful, insecure, personal trainer with poor judgment but I was hot, god damnit. I realized the only way out of this was to play nice. We hooked up a little longer and I looked into his sad eyes. I tried not to bristle when he touched me. He told me he had suffered a sex-induced injury to his penis that effectively broke it. I knew this was my opening. He was vulnerable. I moved for my clothes. In one movement, I was up and heading downstairs. He mumbled something about the sunset and was on my heels alarmingly fast. He took me to some rock outside and put his arms around my waist. He could choke me to death at any moment.Â
I thought about all the men Iâd dated and how lucky Iâd been. I could make it out once more, couldnât I? I deserved one more shot. I looked at the sun slowly fade behind the hills and thought about my fading shot at freedom. Now or never. He opened his mouth to say something rude. I forget now what it was exactly but it was an effort to keep me there. I was now hip to his bag of tricks. âNeggingâ or another manipulation tactic the Pick-Up Artist advised. I didnât acknowledge it and threw my things in a bag, making sure to take all the goodies he gifted me.
My feet hit the dirt road before Iâd even put my sandals on. I bee-lined for my car. But again, he was faster than I expected. He was walking alongside me, practically running. I hopped in my car and he leaned into the door jamb. He kissed me sloppily and I slammed the door. I was making a U-turn before I exhaled.Â
Ten minutes later, he called. I had left my sunglasses on the table. I would not be coming back for them. I could not think of anything I wanted less. They somehow seemed tainted by his having them.Â
I got home 40 minutes later, speeding recklessly. My heart was beating so fast my chest was sore. I would not see Lee again. I could not be trusted to date anyone again. So now, I donât date anyone. And frankly my life is very good. For years, my life was a disaster with sprinkles of humorous anecdotes. But at what cost? I wouldnât die for this life. I didnât deserve to die because I was in pursuit of one more good story.
My last two dates were with a man who I was initially charmed, then, repulsed by. In hindsight, thatâs the story with all of them. I needed to fix the thing inside me that was broken, searching for connection with any weirdo that was interested.Â













