This is the Reason You Couldn't Get a Date

Back in high school, I was asked out on my very first "real" date by a man we'll call Brutus. This was early enough in high school that neither one of us could drive, so we had to rely on parental transportation. (Oh the shame...)

Brutus was a soccer jock, kinda pasty pale skin, and red hair to match. My boyfriend is a redhead now, but wasn't this pale. Brutus also had oddly shaped freckles that seemed to be spattered across his face and body with no particular rhyme, reason, or symmetry that I could see.

Nevertheless, I was excited for my first date. My parents were too, which is always embarrassing... but at least mine didn't show up with a camera like his did. No, it wasn't prom, homecoming, or any other dress-up event that would have actually warranted and been justified in having a picture to commemorate its occurrence. I had no idea where we were headed on this date of ours, but I was ready to get going after the tenth photo.

Clearly, the date was starting off right. Brutus' parents drove us to the local bowling alley, setting up shop just two lanes down the way - as if that was far enough to give us space without actually bowling with us. It might have actually fooled us, except his Dad would cheer everytime Brutus hit more than three or four pins. On the bright side, at least they didn't offer to put us on the bumper lane.

After we finished our two games, his parents drove us back to his place for a movie. Once there, they actually left us pretty much alone... and I look back on it and realize how good I had it when they were around.

It was more than just a lack of chemistry that kept me from ever seeing Brutus again. It really came down to self-preservation. Brutus was a dirty minded boy. The sorts of things he was asking me to do (or saying we could do down the road) are things even today as a grown professional woman I would never consider. I was shocked! I wasn't completely sheltered growing up, but I sure as hell wasn't prepared for some of his suggestions of what we should spend some time doing.

1. If I were to ever have had sex with him, leaving pets in the room was never something I would consciously plan for. He actually proposed that we might be more "excited" if "someone... even an animal..." was watching.
2. I don't care how much you like fixing cars or the smell of vehicular residue, but pouring things on my body that you would find in a car is not even remotely something to suggest if you expect an affirmative response.
3. I don't like the idea of being tied up or restricted - and bungee cords is the absolute weirdest fetish I have heard to accomplish this task to this very day.

You may be wondering how in the world this conversation came up. I was wondering the same thing! I asked him what movie we were going to watch and he suggested we "talk" a bit first. At first I was pleased, but when he introduced the subject.. well I was no longer happy with the situation.

Needless to say, I was disgusted and disturbed. I made a solemn promise to myself to never go on another date with Brutus.

When Brutus first called to ask me out again, I simply said I was busy. In the next couple calls, I wasn't feeling well. After that, it became quite the production to come up with excuses on why I couldn't go out with him anymore. He called - every other day - for three months. I think back on it and I'm pretty sure it was because no girl would ever go out with him again. That would explain his parents taking so many pictures - I guess they were as shocked as I am now that he ever got a girl to go out with him.'

Of COURSE I would never go out with him again! I mean, really?

At some point, Brutus did figure out that I wasn't ever going to be "available" for him again. He took the "Breakup" badly and he hated me for the rest of high school. He badmouthed me and even tried to convince guys who I later dated that they "could do better" than me. Well, if by doing better, he meant someone who would play along with his sick little fetish games - in HIGH SCHOOL - then yes, there were far better women than me out there. They were called tramps.