by Ava Michaels
………
Me: Hey BigStick, would love to go on a date with you when you are in town… Just not at your place. How about you take me out or something?
………
I knew not to go to a stranger’s house alone. I’ve seen the movie. Hopefully he would agree to something else. Now, all I had to do is wait for him to reply.
Next up a certain "dayzedconfused420" wanted to know what I was up to that night. His profile picture wasn't bad - a little bit James Franco, if James Franco didn't take care of himself, and with glasses. But, he was also a student at Dartmouth, his message wasn't full of spelling mistakes, and he at least seemed more charming than Gaines.
Screw it… I clicked reply and agreed to go on a date. I guess I was going to the movies that night and hopefully more…
………
When I felt that I'd accomplished enough of Bartok's housekeeping (or, at least, more than any of the other hung-over kids in the office would today) and figured that she had gone home for the day, I called it quits.
………
Going to the movies was always a good date idea. I know some girls found it boring or cliché, but you could tell a lot about a dude by the movies he liked. We were going to see Bad Boys 3. Any movie title with a three after it isn’t really going to display a whole lot of creativity. But, with the right guy, anything could be an enjoyable experience.
Unfortunately, "dayzedconfused420" was as big a dud as Bad Boys 3. But I think this episode deserves to be told from the beginning.
………
I hurried to the elevator and pushed the button over and over hoping that it would make the elevator go faster. I wanted to be on time for my date. The doors opened and their stood Mr. No Name dressed like his normal self but without a girl.
“Look, it’s Elevator Girl.”
I rolled my eyes and pressed button seven.
The elevator started to ascend but suddenly jerked up, then it abruptly stopped between the third and fourth floor. I stumbled and bumped into his arms. He caught me... I could smell his cologne and it was intoxicating.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
I stood straight up. "Yeah, I think so. Thank you for catching me. What happen?"
"I think we are stuck."
"Oh, no. No, I can’t be stuck. All we have to do is press these buttons and make this thing move."
I started pushing all the floor buttons. Nothing happened.
"This can’t be happening. I have a date tonight."
"Wow, you’re getting cock blocked by an elevator,” he said and then laughed.
“Ugh!” I groaned, now pounding my fist on the buttons.
“Look, calm down. If you stay cool and collected we will probably be out of here in a minute or two.”
Says the man who’s had sex! Me? I could be losing out on an opportunity. I pounded the buttons one last time. Nothing.
He walked to the panel and pressed the help button. I should have been able to figure out that one.
A man responded back quickly, "How can I help you?"
"Hey, we are stuck between the third and fourth floor. Can you please get us out here?"
"Unfortunately, maintenance said it’ll take a couple minutes. It’s nothing serious so don’t worry.”
“Thanks,” Mr. No Name said, turning back towards me and smiling sheepley. "Looks like we’re are going to be here for a few minutes."
"Crap, this sucks big time."
I threw my purse on the floor and starred at my phone hoping that a signal bar would come on. No such luck.
I sat on the floor of the elevator pressing my back against the side wall. I was going on a date that night, but now I was stuck inside an elevator with womanizing Mr. No Name. I looked over at him and all he was doing was smiling. Sure, he looked really good... And he had a breathtaking smooth voice... But who knows which of those girls he's been with had diseases. Yeah, these are the kinds of thoughts that always had me cock blocking myself. I now had a double dose.
"What are you smiling about?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Just that you are stuck in an elevator with me…"
"Well, don't get any ideas because I'm not like any of those other girls you take home. Legs isn't the word of the day so I'm not going to be spreading it."
He started chuckling. "Jesus, Elevator Girl. You are being pretty defensive and I didn't even do anything to you," he said, still laughing.
"You just said that you were smiling because I'm stuck in an elevator with you. I know what you're thinking."
"Because of the other girls, right. I'm not like that, just because they go to my apartment does not mean that I sleep with them. I'm not that easy. They are, but I’m not."
"Whatever."
"Seriously, I'm not some man whore. I test girls. If I bring them home and they instantly try to have sex with me then I know they are there for the wrong reasons. They probably don't want to settle down. Plus, if they are that easy then they likely have had sex with a lot a guys. I'm not one to want to put my dude in places where many other guys have been. The thought of touching another guy's penis with my own just isn't that pleasant."
I raced another eyebrow. "Well, that's one way to put it," I said, grinning. “Your… Dude…”
He did seem sincere saying it but I had to laugh inside at the thought of what he was saying. It just seemed quirky and weird but it was nice to know I wasn't the only one that had weird thoughts.
Mr. No Name was picky!
"So what's with the suit? Do you ever wear anything else?" I asked, trying to change the awkward subject that I didn't feel comfortable talking about.
"Of course, but I've been working so much lately that I don't really have time to change."
Was he counting the girls he was bringing home as work? The way they acted, they really needed a lot of work…
"Right, work."
"Well, I never get off work when I plan so I always end up going on dates wearing my work clothes."
It was almost like he was trying to find the perfect girl. But I was trying to find the perfect man... To have sex with… We were currently polar opposites.
"Two questions, with expensive suits like that why do you live in this cheap apartment building and are you trying to find the perfect girl or something?"
"I actually just moved here a month and a half ago and they didn't have any nice apartments open at the time so I just got whatever, which led me here. I'm actually moving pretty soon because somebody moved out of the The Hartford Estates."
Holy moly... Holy moly... Those were some of the most expensive places in town. He had to be loaded with cash if he was going to be living there.
“Cool," I said, trying not to seem so shocked that he was super rich. "And are you trying to find the perfect girl?"
"Of course, I was in Australia for six years working for a company trying to help others. It was a lot of hard work but I decided that I wanted to move back to the states so I moved here when there was an opening with the company. I am getting older. I want to be married with kids. I don't want to be a lonely 40-year-old man."
With his looks... And that smooth and soothing voice... I didn't know how there was any way he could still be single by the time he was 40. Maybe he was just too picky. One of the girls he had been bringing home had to be good enough, you would think anyway. I was pretty picky... Well, picky when deciding who is going to deflower my pussy willow… I was beginning to sound like a bad comedy movie.
"I don't think that'll happen…," I said, almost moaning the words. "I'm guessing Australia gave you that soothing voice?"
"Yeah, after living there for six years it just kind of caught on... I don't mind it though, the women seem to like it." It was working for me. "So how about you, what are you doing in this apartment building? And why haven't I seen you with any guys? No boyfriend? Or is tonight your first date?"
"I'm actually in college right now so that is why I live here. I have an apartment
with three other girls. It's pretty hard to pick out the right guy so I have kind of just stayed away from them. But the date tonight is my first time going out with this guy and so I should be getting ready."
The elevator turned back on. It was like God was answering my prayer so I could go and get ready for my date. However, I almost wanted the elevator not to work because I was enjoying my conversation with Mr. No Name. I’d probably never know his name now that he was moving. I wanted to ask but then he’d probably wonder why I suddenly cared. Why did I?
"Awesome, well it looks like you should be able to go get ready for your date now. Good luck."
"Thanks and good luck finding the perfect girl."
The elevator stopped at the seventh floor and I jumped up from the floor and sprinted out towards my apartment.
………
When I arrived back at the apartment, Jess greeted me giggling and clapping her hands like she was five. Maybe it had been a mistake to text her about the date. She already had an outfit selected for me. It was something between the boudoir and the Frat-house, but with even less fabric than you'd expect. I had no idea where she'd gotten it from. The only thing I could think was that Frederick's of Hollywood had a fire sale.
Daryl showed up right on time in front of the apartment building. Starting the night off on an appropriately awkward note, I didn't even recognize him when he pulled up in his blue VW Bug. There was a solid two minutes with me grinding my heels into a cigarette butt on the ground and trying to act casual while "dayzedconfused420" sat in his car like an idiot staring at me.
The night went downhill from there.
On our way to the theater, I could barely disguise my displeasure. I assumed that people tended to choose their most flattering pictures to show off on dating websites, but this was something else entirely. Daryl had the sort of acne that he should have lost back in high school and he had a horrific habit of putting his hand on my thigh after picking at one, no matter how many times I swatted it away. He listed himself as "classically handsome" on his OKCupid profile. But the picture, possibly taken in his golden year as a junior in high school, was in some bad lighting where he was mostly in shadow. It was a man’s version of a Glamour Shot photo.
He was a Philosophy major, which meant he thought he was smarter than everyone else. I guess he thought if he babbled on about Wittgenstein that maybe I wouldn’t notice his bad skin and be enraptured by his superior intellect. I think I got four sentences in on the twenty minute ride to the movie theater. I told him my full name, where I was from originally, and that I didn’t smoke weed. And, just to see what happened, I asked what a philosophy major was doing picking out a movie like Bad Bays 3. That backfired and he carried the rest of the conversation to new heights of boringness.
Once we arrived at the multiplex, Daryl decided to give me a display of his manhood by trying to back into a parking space. The result was a deep and long scratch down the length of a minivan and my date trying his hardest to look casual and bad-ass as he desperately searched for another spot - far from the minivan. I thought it was funny. He griped that his car was a vintage automobile. If vintage meant rusty? Yeah, sure.
As I started to get out of the car, "dayzedconfused420" grabbed a hold of my arm.
"Hey, I figured you might wanna have a little fun in the movie..."
Fighting back a wave of nausea, I gave him a weak smile and watched him produce a water bottle filled with Bacardi. Someone really knew how to charm a girl.
It was totally embarrassing watching Daryl pull the bottle of rum out of his jacket once we were seated. He seemed to be trying to look cool, but it was clear that he was just cheap. He also produced a bag of Twizzlers from his coat that had become warm and a little melty by his body heat. I was totally grossed out. I looked around the theater in search of a familiar face. Anyone who I could use as floatation devises to save me from this sinking date. But there was no one. I was on my own with the last of the big spenders.
The less said about the movie the better. I couldn't even tell you what the plot was if I wanted to, because I spent the entirety of it removing Daryl's greasy hand from various spots on my body and planting it firmly back in his lap.
Did he really think that if I didn't want his arm around me, I'd prefer a hand on my thigh?
………
On the way home, we barely spoke.
"Did you like that part where the dude's knocking on the door and he's expecting this other dude, but it's a girl and she just blows his shit away?"
I didn't even bother to glare at him. If losing my virginity involved many more nights like this, I was joining the nearest convent.
Daryl couldn't have done a better job of making sure I'd hit the "block" button on OkCupid if he was trying. Back at the apartment, he somehow worked up the balls to lean over and try to kiss me as I was trying to make a quick escape.
His idea of kissing was sticking his tongue out and hoping he made contact. All I could smell was rum and pot, and I instinctively recoiled, sputtering a quick "goodnight" and running like hell for my apartment door.
I was really wondering if I’d ever have sex. I’d probably be better off buying a hamster, naming it Virginity, and losing the hamster. It’d be close enough.
I was going to get Jess back for this.
-----------Chapter 7-----------
When I got up the up the next morning I looked over at the bed next to me and there still wasn’t any sign of Jess. She wasn’t there when I got back to the apartment from my date either. She was probably spreading her legs at some guy’s apartment or dorm.
I got up and logged into my dating account. I had a few messages but none of them interested me. Well, except one… BigStick. It had been a while since I had heard from him. I clicked the message.
………
BigStick: Come on, I’m harmless. But if you don’t want to come over then I know a really amazing picnic spot down by the Connecticut River on East Wilder road we can go to when I get home. What do you say?
………
While I thought about it I looked at the date and time. The message was sent two minutes ago and it said he was still online. Shit. What if he started chatting with me? I’m not good with my mouth on the fly. I mean… I’m as clumsy with my mouth as I am with my feet. An instant message popped up from him. Bad sauce! Sorry, that’s college lingo for shit!
………
BigStick: So what do you think about a picnic?
………
Ugh. It did seem a bit creepy to be meeting down by the river, where it was easy as caramel apple pie to dispose of a lifeless little girl's body without being noticed.
“Come on Olivia. Don’t fart out your mouth now. Say something smart,” I whispered to myself.
………
Me: Hold up, Bundy, no first dates by a body dump. Think of a more public place. Oh, and considering you sound pretty okay and our quick messages weren’t giving me any red flags I think I’m up to SOMETHING. Don’t think I’m not. I never asked, what’s with the graphic ‘BigStick’ name?
BigStick: First. I wouldn't kill you. I swear. But I’ll bet most killers would probably say that.
Me: Yeah. They definitely would. So, the river is a no go. And what is with your choice of a name?
BigStick: Well, 12inchmin was already taken. The truth is I had a big stick in baseball back in high school and college. Like, you know, the baseball bat. I hit a lot of homeruns! So Big Stick became my nickname. Does the name bother you?
Me: No… I laugh every time I read it.
………
Plus fantasizing about my first time, but he didn’t need to know that.
………
BigStick: Well, it can be dirty if you want it to be. ;) So what do you do in your free time?
Me: I mostly research missing people reports at the police station. I stay very active in the community and many people would know that I was missing.
BigStick: You’re good! But can
we get off the 'I'm a killer' jokes? I feel like this is setting a bad precedent… Let’s talk about you and me.
Me: Let’s do…
BigStick: How about I’ll message you when I’m back in a couple of days.
Me: Sounds like a plan Stan.
………
Jeez, how cheesy am I? As I clicked out of my messages Jess barged through our bedroom door.
“So, did you two have sex? I made sure to not be here last night… So you could… You know… Get deflowered?”
I giggled. “Thanks, but it was a no go.”
“Seriously? Come on!”
“Well, it was bad… He wasn’t doable… At all.”
I went on to tell her everything about the bad ordeal.
"No way," Jess stared at me with her mouth wide open as I relayed the gory details of my date. Then she hid her face in a pillow, trying to stifle the laughter that erupted after the rum out of his pocket trick and the stomach turning kiss scene.
It was mucho embarrassing. I shouldn't have told Jess that. Daryl was like a nightmare that I wanted to wake up from at that point. But, with Jess laughing I couldn’t help but start laughing. I made it out alive. I would never be in any of his classes so I was relatively safe. And he was drunk and high. He probably wouldn’t recognize me in a police line-up if his life depended on it.
"So are you going to call him?" she asked seriously and then burst into hysterical gales of laughter. Okay, that one was funny and I laughed along with her. "Maybe Facebook him? Get on a little bit of the Plenty of Fish or Adult Friend Finder? Are you guys going to Craigslist 'Services' each other, or are you the more 'Missed Connections' sort of couple."
I laughed so hard my stomach was aching. "Alright! Rub it in my face a little more," I said, throwing up my hands. "My first date where I attempted to get laid was the worst date I've probably ever been on."
Before tonight, my prom date had taken that title. Harold Hoschwender.