I had been out with The Divorcee three times before the worst date ever. He seemed like a good guy, but I wasn’t really sure about him. Little did I know that THIS date was going to decide it all for me.
The night started out pretty standard. We were supposed to make dinner at his parent’s house where he lives. I showed up at his house but he hadn’t bought the ingredients so we had to head to the store. I found that a little odd since he knew for a week that we were going to be making dinner and he even told me what we were having, so he should have already had the ingredients...right?
TD is one of those guys that not only opens the door for you to get in but also he expects you to WAIT for him to walk around the car to open the door for you to get out. I don’t find this chivalrous, just awkward. When we got to the store, I obediently waited for him to open the door. Then he said, 'I have trained you well!' and grabbed my hand to hold as we walked in. Now I find things like this so terribly uncomfortable because the first hand hold should always be something that you both agree to...I obviously didn't agree to that, but I had no choice.
We made it back to the house where we proceeded to make dinner together and then eat it. The conversation was pretty standard, with a few uncomfortable lulls, until TD started talking about his divorce…again. Every time we have been out he had somehow managed to talk about his ex-wife. On our second date he told me the WHOLE story. This time he used it as an opportunity to tell me how different I am from her and how I’m just what he’s looking for. TD also used the word individual at least 20 times during that conversation referring either to me or other girls he wanted to date. I stopped counting after 20.
When we got done with dinner, he happily exclaimed, “I thought we would face paint tonight!” I laughed nervously, thinking “I can handle a little paint on my cheek.” Then he showed me a Website he had looked up with FULL FACE PAINTING DESIGNS. I asked him why we couldn’t just do small things but TD didn’t think it would be “as fun.” I reluctantly let him paint my face, my ENTIRE face and had my eyes closed per TD’s request. When I attempted to open my eyes after a half hour of having my face painted, I could hardly get them open. They were painted shut, definitely a first for me. I now know how a window pane feels like. After great effort I managed to peel my eyelids apart and I saw his great master piece…Darth Maul from Star Wars.
TD thought it was awesome. I wanted to scream. I quickly painted his face to look like a Maori Warrior because I thought it would be quick and easy and then we proceeded to wash our faces. For him, not that big of a deal. For me, it was. I am not a high maintenance type of girl, but when I am forced to take off all of my make up in the middle of a date I get a little upset.
Just so you know how excited I was...
As we got settled in for a movie (unfortunately the date wasn’t over yet), TD put his arm around me. By this time I was sure that I was never going to go out with him again but couldn’t think of an inoffensive way to get out of his arm so I just let it happen. Through the first 20 minutes of the movie, he kept asking me questions by turning his head so that his lips were on my cheek as he talked. I am sure he was expecting me to turn my head, but I just stared straight ahead and answered his questions with as few words as possible. When that didn’t work, he started playing with my hair. Still no response. As a last ditch effort, TD started touching my eyebrows. I asked what he was doing and his first response was, I think you still have paint on your face.” When he continued and I asked again, he responded, “I like eyebrows!”
TD continued to touch my eyebrows then started to run his fingertips all over my face, on my eyelids, up through my hair…which was quite inconvenient since I was trying to watch a movie with his fingers in my eyeballs. About 40 mintues into the movie, I couldn't take it anymore. I proclaimed my tiredness and said I had to leave. As he walked me out he thanked me for “such a fun evening.”
A few days later he posted a picture he had taken of my face after he painted it on my Facebook page, declaring that “next time we should stick to small face painting.” Sorry buddy, there won’t BE a next time!