John was a cool guy. Regardless of the way in which I spin our experience together in my head, I can’t really say that there was anything majorly screwed up about him. I can’t say that once we met, I felt too much chemistry either. So why would I even bring him up? Well…a few odd things happened on our date and I think they need to be scribed for posterity.
John and I had spoken on the phone early during the week and made arrangements to meet up for a drink that upcoming Friday. It was the beginning of summer and not only had I felt some sort of sniffle coming on, I had spent a decent portion of the day spraying the perimeter of my apartment with very strong bug spray to alleviate a small spider issue. The spray was meant for both the outdoors and indoors, and I probably would have benefitted from opening my windows just a tad more after spraying, so I didn’t swallow most of the vapors. My bad.
About 6 hours later, I stood outside of a really cute bar (his choice) waiting to meet John for Happy Hour. It was early evening at the beginning of the summer and the sun was pretty much blinding me as I stood by the bar entrance, casually turning my head to and fro, to see if he was making his way toward our meeting spot.
Suddenly, a guy in a black t-shirt and dark-framed glasses walked swiftly past me and into the bar. I could have sworn it was John, and as it turned out it was.
“Did you just rush into the bar by any chance?” I texted him.
Two minutes later, he replied, “Yeah, I really needed to go to the bathroom.”
Fair enough. I suppose.
So I walked into the bar and we greeted one another, got some cocktails and sat at a little table. Our conversation went pretty well. I have nothing against glasses, but didn’t really expect him to be wearing them, since he wasn’t wearing them in any of his photos – which is why it kind of threw me off when a be-spectacled version of him ran past me towards the loo. To be honest, I didn’t find him as attractive in person as I thought he was in his photos but he was a good guy with a warm personality so I thought chemistry could possibly develop.
We were talking about traveling a little bit, and I mentioned a recent work trip. John asked who I went with on the trip and when I told him “my boss,” he asked me if my boss was male or female. There were a few more questions after this from him, which basically turned into John claiming that there was something besides work going on between myself and my male boss. You know, because every workplace is a setting for a porn movie. Oh and EW! So that was a little awkward, but we moved on to another topic.
John was eventually on his third beer and once we were past the accusations of the affair I was having at work, he brought up the innocent topic of a friend’s upcoming wedding. He was one of the groomsmen and was really excited about it, as it would be a vacation for him and some friends across the country. We were discussing some of the details about it and my voice basically dwindled down to a whisper. I couldn’t get any sound out above some scratches and squeaks, despite multiple attempts at clearing my throat. I was not only sick, but I was instantaneously hit with laryngitis.
I believe it was right around the time when my voice disappeared that a large portion of John’s sanity went with it. First he said, “I would love for you to be my date for the wedding but you know, we just met.” Well, yeah…that’s true John. Then he asked me at least 3 times during the next 10 minutes why I didn’t seem like I was into him. I smiled and tried to talk as much as possible, swearing (in a scratchy whisper) that I was enjoying myself and everything was fine. It was almost as if he was accusing me of not liking him…very early on in our “relationship.” He wasn’t the least bit concerned that I couldn’t speak…only that I didn’t seem interested enough. So at that point, I was uncomfortable with both my date and my state of health. It was time to go.
I think John walked me to the train station from the bar and basically waved me away.
I ended up not being able to speak for two weeks. While I wasn’t challenged to explain to anyone else that I, indeed, did like them or that they had just sprinted past me toward a urinal, it was extremely frustrating.
Damn spider spray.