Can't touch this

This is a scary story. Be prepared. The events that follow may be too frightening for the average human mind.

This is the story of my first internet date.

You may remember Sad Emily from several posts ago, Sad Emily was sad before because she got her heart broken into tiny bits that were then thrown into a furnace and burned into oblivion. It's okay, I'm over it kinda, but it happened nonetheless.

So fast forward a bit and I decide it's time I moved on. But I don't feel like doing the whole bar scene all over again - see last Saturday night for reasons why - so I decided to give old web dating a try. If nothing else it would be a story.

Here is that story.

I met Web Date on the corner of Sunset and Detroit in Hollywood. I already had bad feelings because I was meeting him on the corner of Sunset and Detroit like a hooker. I saw two men headed my way - a short dude in a stupid shirt and a cutie in black. Guess which one was my date?

When we met up he was completely wet because he just got out of the shower, then ran down the street to meet up with me. Yeah, buddy, that's attractive. I unfortunately opted for heels, which made him super short by comparison. A good start for everybody.

We went to some bar called The Woods. It smelled like untreated wood. I asked for a sour apple martini and he ordered the same.

Okay boys, here's a tip: We drink the martini. You drink a beer.

He spoke about his job pushing paper about as enthusiastically as a Star Trek fan talks about team sports. He supposedly used to be a boxer but when I started discussing Mike Tyson's technique he had no idea what I was talking about.

I was already imagining the Blind Date bubbles over my head.

We left the bar and went to a karaoke / sushi bar in the Highland Mall. That's when he started touching.

My family is British. My grandma met my grandpa in the USO, my mom can't cook, and we don't generally hug. Once I tried to hug my grandma when she wasn't expecting it and she dropped like a wet rag in a kitchen sink. I am the same. Unless we know each other really well, don't touch me.

But Web Date kept touching me. My arm, my back, my neck - ugh. I finally straight up told him to stop touching me, to lay off, at which point he asked if he could to touch my face.

I was trying so hard to get away from him that my elbow knocked a full beer and a mixed drink off the counter. I had no idea the drinks were there next to my elbow, but I had $8 in my pocket I was prepared to give to the drink owners after I apologized. But when my profuse apologies came, all I got in return was a disgusted look of disgust that was clearly very disgusted so I kept my money in my pocket. Fuck 'em. I didn't knock it over on purpose. You don't have to be ass-hatty.

Anyway, Web Date, who turned out to be a smoker which his profile clearly said he was not, said he wanted to kiss me before he sucked on his Lucky Strike. It was the attack of the soaking wet tongue. I couldn't escape.

He begged me to take off my hooded sweatshirt (and by that I mean literally begged), which by now was zipped up as high as any hooded sweatshirt could possibly go. I nearly zipped my neck skin up into the hoody.

No cleavage for you.

My body language was as uncomfortable as I could make it, but Web Date kept touching me so I finally told him again to stop touching me. He immediately tried to touch my face. I slapped his hand away. He called me "baby".

He bought me a rum and coke without consulting on whether or not I wanted this drink. I passed and made him drink it.

He karaoked a song - I don't remember which one - and destroyed it by screaming the lyrics as loud as he could. I karaoked Pearl Jam's "Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town" and had some difficulty starting on key, but picked it up after a bit and kind of nailed it. One of Web Date's karaoke friends came over and told me he could get me a recording contract.

Oh, Los Angeles. You are consistent.

Web Date explained to me that before our date he'd watched some porn and masturbated and even ejaculated, which is great since he usually has a lot of trouble ejaculating.

Super. This guy is everything I've dreamed of and more.

Web Date kept trying to kiss me. By now I was actively putting my hands up to block his moves. When I denied him he went over to some Asian girl and flirted with her, presumably to make me jealous. I was grateful.

Web Date went out to make a phone call and I thought briefly about escaping but since I have yet to become a complete bitch I decided to tell him I wanted to leave. He offered to walk me to my car. On the way out he tried to slip through a "personnel only" door and I used it as an excuse to keep moving. I raced down the stairs and onto Hollywood Boulevard, moving as fast as I could to get back to my car. I checked behind me and he wasn't there. Whew.

Then, suddenly, a tap on my shoulder. I turned and there he was, panting from his run to catch me. He was drunk and sang some song about girls and pubic hair.

We came to his street. He asked me to come back to his apartment to have sex. I said no. He tried to kiss me. I pushed him off. He tried again. I pushed him off again. Then I ran for it, watching his drunk ass crying out to me in the distance.

I hope he made it home. I also hope he never calls me again.