No Neck

The Second date

We'll call this one no neck or the Mayor.  You'll understand why shortly.  We chatted online.  His pictures were decent, nothing spectacular but then not everyone is photogenic.  He was cute enough though.  He had a daughter, she was 13.  You'll find that I don't want to deal with little children which is why it's significant that his daughter is in middle school.  No more PTA meetings for this gal.  But enough about that.  

He was a former police officer (retired), a former Marine, and had a very nice vocabulary.  We spoke on the phone for about an hour and a half prior to agreeing to meet up.  When we talked on the phone, an array of subjects were broached and overall, I had no negative vibes about this guy.  In fact, while we spoke that night, he told me a story about how he was retired already (he was only 49 years old).  Evidently, he went to a bank robbery in progress and the robber shot him six times.  He thought he was going to die.  He said he believes he was meant to live for a reason.  He went on to say, he felt that reason could be to meet me.  I know, now, that may seem creepy but at 11:30 pm after a long day, it sounded sweet and almost romantic.  I really need to learn to keep these "sweet and romantic" notions in line in the future.  

The morning came, I went to work, and had texts throughout the day telling me how excited Mayor was to meet.  I had chosen my outfit carefully, did my hair and even put on some makeup (yes, this is a big deal for me).  The Mayor's only stipulation was he wanted to meet in the parking garage, he didn't want to "hunt" around the bar looking for me.  I, too, cringe during those first few moments of not knowing where the person is or who they are when you walk in at first so I agreed.  

I parked in the parking garage, he had sent me a message telling me which level he was on, so I tried to park somewhat in the same area.  I got out of my car and proceeded to put my purse in the trunk (always a good idea, ladies).  When I closed the trunk, I happened to look over to the right (toward the elevator) and there was a man who matched the description of the Mayor.  I found myself praying it was not him. The "gentleman" looked homeless, dirty clothes, piled on top of other clothes, half bent over and coming toward me.  Before he could reach me though, another gentleman approached from the other direction, the Mayor.  

He had jeans on and a shirt with a windbreaker type of jacket.  Actually, if you were around in the 80's you might remember the "member's only" jackets?  Yes, this is what he was wearing.  And, when I say "wearing" I mean it looked like it was two sizes too small and carefully zippered.  I found myself thinking if I unzipped his jacket would he just fall out of it?  I looked at his face, after all, the body does not make the man, and found he was not completely unfortunate looking.  Although he did not look exactly like his pictures (they were obviously from years gone by) but still, not awful.  I actually felt a sense of relief because the "homeless" man stopped approaching and my date was not him.  

We said hello and started walking to the bar.  The bar was dark, this helped immensely.  On the way to the bar (down the elevator and up one block), I noticed the Mayor did not turn he head so much as he turned his whole body.  It was odd but did not seem as odd as it would later.  We arrived at the bar.  He wanted a booth.  We sat.  He wanted to order food but as any of you know, that takes time and the last thing you want is to be stuck somewhere you don't want to be.  I had learned that lesson with "Doc".  I told him, "perhaps in a bit, we can order, let's just get drinks for now."  He agreed and ordered Michelob Ultra.  Now, I'm not a big beer drinker but even I know, Mic Ultra is nasty - barely beer.  My internal signalman was getting out his flags.   

The conversation started out fairly benign.  What do you do?  How has the dating site been treating you?  (These questions are typical and trite). The real struggle was not the conversation so much as the view - me sitting across from him.  It was nearly impossible for me to look at him in the eye.  I pride myself on being direct and speaking directly to someone.  I could not figure out why.  At first, I thought it was because he was bearly fitting into his clothes; they looked like they might burst at the seams at any moment (imagine a sausage bursting in its skin).  Then I forced myself to look - really look.  He had no neck.  His face flowed down to his shoulders.  His cheeks had no definition.  He looked like the Mayor in the movie, "Nightmare before Christmas" - hence, his name, the Mayor.  I was not attracted to this man, at all.  I know, you shouldn't judge a person by their looks but damn, you can tell if you're attracted pretty soon right away and I was NOT attracted at all.  

Me being me at this point, knew what I needed to do.  I needed to get out of there.  I did not want to hurt his feelings per se but I was not going to hang out for the evening, that was certain.  I started to make myself unattractive.  I know you are thinking, what does that mean?  Let me tell you.  

When a woman wants to be found unattractive, she has a few options.  One of the most effective is to talk about your "value".  Everyone knows this is dating tabu, so to start this conversation, it should have had a negative effect.  Notice, I said should have? 

In an effort to not be obvious, I started with something seemingly overt.  

"So, how many dates have you gone on from the dating site?," I said. 

"A few, not too many," he said.  

"Oh, how come?, " I said. 

"Not everyone is for me," he said with wiggling eyebrows.  As if I was to determine the hidden meaning of those words through watching his eyebrows which looked like a caterpillar doing the worm. "What about you?" he asked.  Finally. 

"Oh I've been on a few dates, a few hookups ... you know," I said with equally wiggling eyebrows.  

*Before I continue, I want to add a caveat... I LIED to this man.  I LIED outright and for the sole purpose of making myself unattractive to him.  The following is a snippet of said lies. 

"Ohhhh, you do hookups?", he asked.  (For those who do not know, a hook up is just sex.  Casual sex without purpose or meaning, other than at that time.}

"Oh yea, I do hookups.  I'm looking to increase my value," I said.

"Your value?" he asked.

"Absolutely.  You know, the number of partners I've had.  I want to reach 100 one day.  I'm not there yet, but there's still time," I said as I took a drink from my cider.

"Ahhh, so what is your number? Can I ask?" he said.

"No problem... I think it's in the upper 70s or 80s at this point.  I have it all written down at home.  I like to keep track.  You know, the who and their number.  Sometimes I even critique their work (as it were)," I said as I smiled.

"Oh, that's great ... I know I'm probably around that number too," he said.

At this point, I thought for sure he would want to start wrapping up the evening.  I mean, seriously, if someone just told me they wanted to have 100 sex partners, I would have said, thanks for everything and I'm out.  However, if it's possible, my statement made him even more attracted to me.  (I did not understand).  Typically, this is a good way to get rid of people but No Neck was different.  I tried a different tactic, let's talk about other men.

I encouraged him to expand on how his "value" got to be so high.  He went on to tell me that sex to him was something to be done anywhere and with just about, anyone.  He even went as far as to tell me that he had sex with his female partner (he was a former police officer) in the back of the patrol car while on duty.  I was somewhere between flabbergasted and appalled.  Not because he had sex while on the clock but because he did it in the back of the car with his "partner", whom he had no respect for then or now.  It is sad to think this guy thought it was funny to talk about his exploits with a potential girlfriend. He became even more unattractive.  However, he was still sitting there sucking down his Michelob Ultra and ordering a second round with a smile on his face.

How was I going to get rid of this guy?  I'm usually pretty good at thinking on my feet so I adopted every story I had heard or been told and made them mine.  I told him about the "one time" I slept with my brother-in-law (a lie).  The "one time" I had sex with a manager at work (a lie).  The "one time" I had slept with a husband and his wife but liked the wife more (another lie).  I found myself fabricating elaborate stories that I can not even recount now because of the lies involved.  The man was practically salivating at the table!  It was unbelievable.

I realized then, I was not going to be able to end this "date" by doing this.  I was going to have to be more direct.  He asked if I wanted to add him to my list, to raise my value.  I responded by snorting (I had just taken a drink).  "I'm sorry if I added you to the list, my value would obviously decrease - my self-value especially," I said.

He laughed it off like it was a joke.  He had ordered a third round for the table.  I was drinking cider because of the lack of alcohol content.  When the third drink arrived, it broke a rather awkward silence.  He was fidgeting in his seat and I was looking around noticing the shades that had been lowered were now being raised because it was starting to get dark outside.  I knew I could not sit there much longer just as the drinks were presented on the table.  I took one look and thought, no, I can't.  I can not sit here and talk to this guy any longer.

He started drinking his beer and I watched.  I found myself thinking ... how can he drink that?  His clothes are stretched to capacity and just one more ounce is going to make him explode.  He swallowed or at least I was watching for it, but I saw no indication of any movement because his neck was never apparent.

I stood and told him I needed to use to ladies.  He stood with me, "I'll go too," he said.  I looked at him, "not with me in the ladies room," I said.  He nodded and said okay.  He slammed the remaining beer and looked at my untouched cider.  I began to walk away.  He, unfortunately, followed.

I went into the ladies room and fiddled in front of the mirror and washed my hands (I was feeling dirty).  When I left, would you believe he was right there, waiting for me outside the door?  I almost stumbled into him, he was that close.  I told him I needed to leave.  He, again, offered to walk me out.

We walked out together.  He tried to take my hand but I pulled it back and almost snarled like a dog roused from their bed.  We walked to the elevator and toward our cars in silence.  I stopped at mine and pushed the button to unlock it.  As I was reaching for the door handle, he said, "so would you like to go for a ride?"  "What?" I said.  "Well, I like road head, maybe? It can just be a short ride."

That ladies and gentleman takes the cake.  I ignored his comment and got into my car.  I turned it on and had it in gear before he took two steps away from me.  I feel if I did not get away from him as quickly as possible one of two things were going to happen.  1.  I was going to throw up or 2. I was going to run him over with my car.  I still felt like number 1 was a possibility but at least with that, I wasn't looking at potential jail time.

That concludes date number two.