Photo Credit: www.thecomedystore.com.auI have only been on a handful of first dates in my time. Usually the date comes after the consummation of the relationship and in college a "date" means meeting up at a party before or after several drinks. I always feel awkward and like I am going to do something embarrassing or that something bad is going to happen. Usually it doesn't, this Friday however, was a different case.
I met the Kiwi at a house warming party of a friend of a friend who I still don't know. It was jungle themed and surprisingly (esp considering the themed nature of the soiree) I was the only American there. I am definitely the girl to call when there is a themed function. For a while, 80% of my closet was devoted to various themed ensembles (including my job at MAC) so I was excited to attend. I arrived with a bottle of wine, a bright green dress and various fauna in my hair. My German friend had invited me so she ushered me around and made various introductions until I was settled and talking to the eligible bachelors of the group. Then he walked in; tall, dark and handsome. He came up and talked to me for about 5 minutes then left for another party with promises of French Films in our future. I didn't think anything of it and proceeded to drink the rest of my bottle of wine and run like Cinderella at 12am to catch the last train home.
He called the next day and we made plans for Friday. He wanted to pick me up but I'm a weird passenger and don't like riding in cars with people I don't know that well. I think it's because I have been in so many car accidents and I just assume everyone is as terrible a driver as I am. Guilty until proven innocent. So instead of him picking me up from my house we agreed to meet at the train station near the park and go to The Comedy Store from there.
I left the house in a little black dress, shiny heels, a tiny black clutch and red lipstick of course. With the right accessories (a date) and location (indoors) I did not look like a hooker, standing on the corner of a busy street waiting alone was another story. He finally shows up in a shiny SUV and I hop in. So much for my weird rule. We make small talk, you like nice, how was your day, blah blah blah and head out towards the club. Like a man, he didn't know where he was going and didn't want to call the venue for directions. Modern people, unlike myself, have phones with GPSs so we just relied on that to get us there. There was a lot of traffic due to some sporting event I don't care about so it was like driving down any street in LA during rush hour. At a pause he looks down at his phone to see if we are nearing the turn. The traffic starts to move again so he accelerates, then looks down at the GPS and doesn't stop and we are now in the back of a taxi cab. I was in shock as I have been in this situation far too many times before. Luckily we were going very slow so the damage was minimal and no one was hurt. The girls in the back of the cab just looked at me and I looked back and shrugged and proceeded to send sly texts to my roommate without him noticing:
me:"soooo we totally just rear ended a taxi"
her: "oh shit! are you ok?"
me: "yeah its ok, everyone is fine."
her: "well if you need to get a cab and come home it's ok"
he comes back to the car and I hide my phone under my leg and ask if everything is ok. He says yes, turns on the hazard lights and goes back to the scene of the accident.
me: "no, no, it's fine, I'm sure everything will be ok, I'll see you later"
her: "well ok, if you need anything let me know. I hope it goes better from here"
me thinking: yeah me too
After holding traffic up for roughly 20 minutes he comes back to the car and is surprisingly calm and collected, especially considering this was his first ever car accident and ESPECIALLY considering it was his company's car.
We continued to the comedy club and watched various comedians flounder and flourish as we sipped our drinks and minded our manners. We went to pay for the parking and I started jittering in the cool breeze. He suggested that the best way to keep warm was through body heat. I guess cheesy lines do cross cultures. He proceeded to put his tree trunk of an arm around me and pull me close to his beefy body. Did I forget to mention he's a rugby player? In the parking lot he tried to kiss me but I giggled and rubbed my nose against his. Some may call it playing hard to get, I call it nervous. Sober first kisses always rattle my nerves.
The night carried on and we met some of his friends for a drink at their local. They were nice but we did the anti-social first date thing and cozied up in a corner and shared our family tree, life experiences and all of our hopes and dreams. When the clock struck 12 the bar made its last call and we gathered the group to head elsewhere. I turn into a pumpkin at midnight as the last train leaves at around that time, so he offered to walk me to the train station. We were in Kings Cross, which is like the trashy side strips of Vegas, so drunk assholes number in the hundreds at that time of night and I was thankful for my bodyguard.
While we were walking three guys were walking in and out of pace with us. They were small, drunk and looking to fight, so I was especially thankful I had "the rock" with me. They yelled obscenities to every man, woman and cab driver they crossed in both English and some other language they don't teach in American public schools. We were talking as we walked but I was totally distracted by these obnoxious guys and couldn't hold a full conversation. They kept stopping in the middle of the street in front of us to yell at people, raising their arms in defiance to the cars waiting at stoplights and bickering back and forth between each other. They ended up a little ahead of us, just before the train station and I was afraid they might be on the same train as me so I stalled a little to see where they were going. Then I noticed that there were 2 more people mixed in with them and they were getting louder and more aggressive. I stopped for a second and noticed a slender guy in stylish clothing semi-surrounded and being harassed. I HATE bullys so I stepped in and asked him if he was ok. There were tears welling in his eyes as he grabbed my arm and was said "OMG these guys are being terrible and my boyfriend and I just got into a huge fight and now these guys are getting involved and I think they want to kill us". Two of the three stooges had taken the upset boyfriend over to a wall and were sitting and talking with him. They were being borderline civil while the third was irate and yelling in slurs at the corner. I could see that things might get ugly really quick so I politely told the guys "thanks for trying to help but please fuck off now". They listened and left with little hassle. I don't know if it was me or my stacked escort standing behind me. Being a children's teacher for so long has made me an excellent mediator and disciplinarian, I'm sure I would have had the same effect without a 6'3'' 300 pound guy with me.
The boys were totally shaken up and I told them I would help them get home. At this point it was time to say goodbye to the Kiwi. Breaking up a potential fight between short angry guys and hysterical lovers is a more than awkward way to end a night. I said I would grab a cab from here and fell into his arms and wrapped my red lips around his, giving him a few closed mouth kisses goodbye, I am a lady after all. I then talked to the boys, who thanked me and then started explaining what had provoked the fight. I don't know why strangers disclose personal details to me all the time, but they do. This disclosure re-heated drunken emotions and the more angry of the two decided to run away. The other went and drug him back to where I was standing. I then jumped in front of the nearest cab, shoved them in and shut the door. They were the cabby's problem now.
I don't like confrontation so I was a little shaky after dealing with all of the ridiculous events that happened that night. I decided to take a cab home because it would be easier than the train and I would have less chance of running into any more crazy people. I told the cold cab driver that I would like to head towards my suburb and that I would direct him to my house from there. I rarely ride in cars and usually take the train so I only know one way to get to and from my house via side streets. I also live near a dodgy part of town that is particularly grim at night. Apparently driving through it is one way to get to where I live. As we drove though said part of town and my phone lost have service I thought that this was surely my night to die. Junkies and alcoholics were roaming the streets like zombies with dead eyes as we drove past. I sunk down in my seat and repeated the name of my suburb to make sure the driver hadn't misheard me. He assured me this was the back way and we were fine but I wasn't convinced until several minutes later when things started looking more familiar and less like the haunted forest in Snow White.
Since I never drive or take cars I don't know which streets are one way or how to get around them. This resulted in several trips around the block which all lead to dead ends and caused my driver to grow more and more irritated. Four more dollars on the meter and we finally made it to my doorstep. I didn't have any cash on me and had to run inside to get some, which left my driver further unimpressed with his fare. I came back down and threw some notes in the passenger window and ran back into the house before he could give me another dirty look.
I didn't care. I was just glad to be home, wipe my red lipstick off and have a huge glass of wine.
I have never had a first, or second or even 100th date like this in my entire life. I think worst case scenario happened and then some. But overall I did have fun with him and I can laugh about it now. However, I wouldn't be surprised if he never called me again.
Poljupci!
