It has taken me nearly a year to write this, no matter how hard I have tried. I've even gone out of my way to only tell a few people about it, because even as it happened, I knew I wanted this to be my masterpiece. There is no other first date experience that has even come close. After a thousand attempts at putting it into words, I have accepted that this will not be the magnum opus I crave to create, and I apologize if it seems a bit scattered. Honestly, to explain everything, to capture it all and spit it out in a manner befitting of that strange evening would take up chapters. And so, all I can do is hope against hope you find this tale as genuinely batshit as I do.
Please, please understand and remember that all of the stories I tell are true. The only details I change in any given post are the names of people, and sometimes establishments. I say this to drive home the fact that this person actually exists out in the world, and we even had a mutual friend. He is out there. Right now. He is an actual, literal human being who actually, literally, make no mistake, says and does the things I will be describing. I only find what happened to me to be funny because it was, overall, ludicrously bad. This doesn't mean I condone any of it, and it definitely wasn't funny at the time, some of it I'll never actually find funny. The people I met that night are still my friends. I have witnesses, damnit. Witnesses.
Oh, and even though I usually don't say it, feel free to send me messages and emails! I love when you interact with me! (Contact form is under my picture over there -->)
Enjoy.
August of 2017 was set up to be rough. At the very end of July, I'd been recently dumped, and I was grieving heavily the loss of a woman I'd loved as a second mother. In fact, I'd just been to her funeral, and the day after her service was the one year anniversary of one of my best friend's deaths. By the first of the month, I was not doing so great, and I'm sure I was in no real state of mind to be meeting strangers, but I decided it would be better than moping around and isolating myself entirely. While I do believe we are more likely to attract people who are miserable for us while we are miserable ourselves, I also tend to ignore my own advice roughly 78% of the time, so I reactivated my Tinder account. On August 2nd, I matched with Aaron because he had pretty pictures. That's it. That's the only reason I was interested. Sometimes, it's just nice to go out and be pretty with someone for a drink or two, then carry on with my life. That was my only plan.
Aaron and I had one mutual friend, and when I saw who the friend was, I figured Aaron must be a pretty normal guy. Maybe a club going, party type, but overall probably a good person. In fact, I have so much respect for our mutual friend that I didn't even reach out to him to see if going out with Aaron was a good idea. We exchanged numbers, and texted a little bit throughout the day. He wasn't being particularly forward, nowhere near disrespectful, but he did seem a little...high, maybe? It was a lot like talking to someone who was stoned out of their mind. The conversation looped occasionally, and he seemed to forget questions he asked me even though all he had to do was scroll up on his own screen. Odd and mildly irritating, sure, but not threatening or otherwise alarming. He asked if I would like to go out the next night.
The evening of August 3, 2017, five days after saying my final goodbyes to my second mom, four days after the one year anniversary of one of my best friend's deaths, and one week after being dumped for being chronically ill (he didn't think he could handle it long term), I was straightening my hair in the bathroom, blaring Queen, and forcing myself to be cheery. Every now and then, my phone would buzz with the sounds of Aaron asking repeat questions. Originally, we were going to go to dinner together, but his shoot was running long (he was a model), and dinner plans turned into karaoke plans. I can't say I was very excited by the time I left my house, but I had grown curious. The texts had gotten even more strange. He told me about his siblings in a way that made it pretty clear they were deceased, and when I said I was sorry to hear about his siblings, he rapid fire texted in reply.
"Who told you about my family?? How the fuck do you know about it?
Seriously, are you trying to Google my family?
Don't look me up. Don't look them up."
That was the beginning of the end, really. I told him I hadn't heard anything, that I just assumed by what he said, that he had lost some family members. I told him I was sorry, I didn't mean to pry, and that I had lost my brother, too. I didn't even know his last name to look up his family if I wanted.
"I'll tell you about it if I want to, not if you're up my ass about it."
Honestly, when I look back, I know that was the moment I should have cancelled and deleted his number. We didn't know each other, and he was being both rude and a bit sketchy. Obviously, I didn't do that. I instead assumed whatever the wound was had to be incredibly deep, if not fresh, and everyone has sore spots. I gave him the benefit of the doubt. Hey Anger, meet my friend, Compassion, right?
When it came time to leave, I wasn't very enthusiastic, but I was trying to shake off the uncomfortable vibe I'd gotten. Aaron had sent me an address, which I entered into my GPS, and I was on my way. Only about ten minutes into my drive, despite it being 8:30pm on a Thursday, I hit one of the worst traffic jams I've been stuck in to this day. I couldn't even get to the next exit to take back roads, and I spent an hour going a total of three miles. I kept updating Aaron, who was now waiting on me at a bar that was already half an hour away when there was no traffic, but there was no telling how long it would take me to get there. Eventually I managed to break free, but my date had decided to bar hop. He sent me a new address, which was about ten miles further. It led me to an apartment complex, where I immediately turned my car around, ready to head home if this had been intentional. When I called him, he was somewhere loud, and kept saying he would come meet me in the parking lot, but I had to tell him several times I was at a complex, not a bar. He then offered to meet me at a nearby gas station so I could follow him to whatever bar he was talking about. Fine. I then told him what I was driving so he could find me. After only a minute or two, his SUV came squealing into the parking space next to mine. He rolled down his window, and told me to hop in.
"No thanks, I like to drive myself."
He told me I was being difficult, but to follow him. It was obvious he was either already intoxicated, a terrible driver, or both. He hit two curbs before double parking at some dive down the street.
When he emerged from his vehicle, he wasn't quite what I expected. He actually looked a good bit like Ronnie Ortiz-Margo, from Jersey Shore. On the shorter side, stocky, very Jersey Shore style clothing. He was attractive, but he wasn't built like any male model I'd ever met or seen. It struck me as odd, but then I remembered he also said he did some personal training. Maybe he was doing a shoot for that gym? I shrugged it off, and really didn't think about it again. He gave me a small, loose hug, nothing uncomfortable or inappropriate, and we walked inside. They didn't have karaoke.
"I thought you said this place had karaoke."
He seemed irritated. "They do! I've been here before!"
"...weren't you in here like five minutes ago?"
"Nah, I was at a different place. But I could swear they had karaoke here. You want to play pool?"
"Sure."
We walked up to the bar to order drinks, and were told they had servers in the pool room. I reacted like a regular person, smiled and apologized for not knowing the protocol, and started walking toward the pool tables. Aaron reacted as if the bartender had insulted him, and kept muttering about how the service is always terrible. Our server, Amy, arrived promptly. She was sweet and cheery, a bit on the thicker side, and she was a beautiful woman. We briefly chatted while Aaron was setting up our game. When he finished, he came over, ordered a double shot of tequila, then pointed at me and guessed "vodka?.....cranberry?"
I looked to Amy. "Whiskey and ginger, please."
It really only took about five minutes to get our drinks, but my date was acting as if it had been hours. He made several comments about how slow everyone was, and after Amy delivered our order, he was quite rude to her.
"It's about time."
I looked at her apologetically. He laughed as she walked away, so I asked him was was funny.
"What a fuckin' cow, right? Fat bitch." A bright red flag.
"I think she's pretty."
"Nah."
He then turned that into a series of compliments toward me, comparing us both loudly until I asked him to stop, which he did immediately. It was then that we started trying to get to know each other, but mostly he would ramble on about things he hated. Like his ex, who was, by his account, a genuinely bad person. She was the mother of one or both of his children (it was unclear to me, and I was too afraid to ask for clarification). Also, he had told me the day before he didn't have kids, but now he was a single father of two. This ex-hating red flag was even more red and even more flaggy than the last. On and on, through what seemed to be his entire life story, which he felt very comfortable sharing, the common thread was just how much anger he had toward nearly every woman in his life. This concerned me greatly, and my concern grew when we finally reached the topic of his mother. She, as he put it, was a slut for whom he has no respect. This was, of course, the reddest, flaggiest, flashing neon sign-flag that there is. No coming back. A quick side note for any straight woman reading this: MEN WILL TREAT YOU THE WAY THEY TREAT THEIR MOTHERS. IF HE SPEAKS LOWLY OF HER, HE WILL SPEAK LOWLY OF YOU. REMEMBER THIS FOREVER.
I had known for about fifteen minutes (since that bizzarre drive over from the gas station) that I wouldn't be going out with him again, but by this point I was both fascinated by his erratic behavior, and morbidly curious about what he'd say next. I noticed he kept looking over my shoulder, and into the main bar area, as if he recognized someone, becoming visibly agitated.
"Someone you know in there?"
"No, I just hate when people fucking look at me. People stare at me everywhere I go."
"Why do they do that? You famous?" I chuckled.
"No." He barked it at me, so I dropped it.
He told me the tragic story of losing a brother and sister, but the way he told it made it sound like he blamed his mom for what happened. I won't go into it, because that's not actually my story to tell, just know that the blame wasn't rational. This was a disturbed person, and he reminded me a whole lot of other angry, drunk men. He ordered another shot of tequila. I continued nursing my drink. This time, when Amy delivered his glass, he barked at her for taking too long, and asked how how she even has a job.
"AARON! Don't be like that. Amy, I apologize."
She walked off quickly, before having to be involved in the conversation.
"Dude! That was mean. Don't be mean to her."
"Was that rude?"
"YES."
"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I'll go apologize to--"
"No, just...just don't say anything else to her. I'm revoking your ordering privileges." I made sure to smile slightly, scrunching my face as I scolded.
Normally, I wouldn't try to "cute" my way through this type of situation, but he struck me as highly volatile, and peace keeping is an instinct I have from my own past with highly volatile drinkers. He listened to my direction because he was interested, and I figured I could keep everyone calm if I played along for long enough to finish the pool game, down my drink, say my goodbyes, and politely leave. Not for his sake, because I have no problem calling people out, but for mine. I had begun to question how safe I actually was. It had only been about half an hour, and he'd already managed to check off my list of warning signs like it was his personal mission. He agreed not say anything to Amy anymore, telling me I could not only order everything myself, but I could also fill out the tip portion of the receipt, and he would pay it. That seemed to be a decent deal. The next time she came to our table, I informed her that he wasn't allowed to speak to her anymore. She pointed at his glass and raised a brow, while he gave a thumbs up and smiled. It was good enough for me. I had still hardly made a dent in my whiskey, though, and my incredibly charming date was already several shots in, not counting what he must have had before meeting up with me.
Aaron wandered off to the bathroom, and I flagged Amy down to explain what was going on. I told her that I didn't actually know this guy, it was a first date, a really awful one, and I was honestly as put off as she was. She was relieved, and said she would make sure the bartender kept an eye out for me, if he started acting up.
Upon his return, we continued talking. Sort of. It was basically him continuing to tell me horrifyingly revealing things about himself and his mental state. We briefly chatted about what I did for a living. At the time, I was writing research articles for small business blogs. It was hardly exciting work, but it paid enough in the moment. Aaron seemed impressed. Frowning, he explained to me that most women he meets aren't that smart. Then he called me a nerd every other sentence for about five minutes. It was then that I remembered our mutual friend, Joseph, a nerd like me, and decided to ask how they knew each other.
"Oh. Him. Uh, we used to work together."
"Ah, cool. Doing what?"
He chuckled a little. "It was a while ago. He's changed since then. We worked in the entertainment industry." Joseph was a DJ and a promoter, so I naturally assumed that was the entertainment Aaron was referring to.
"Did you promote with him?"
"Not exactly. It was more....adult than that."
I think I choked on an ice cube. "Excuse me?"
He was laughing again, but harder. "Okay, okay. I used to be a dancer."
"What?! Really?! What about Joseph?"
"You can ask him if you want. He'll tell you."
I got my phone, and began texting with Joseph. I said I was out with one of his friends, and that I heard they used to work together. When I said who I was with, my friend said he knew him, and that he hopes I have fun, but then he wouldn't answer anything else. It was almost as if he didn't want to answer my questions about whether or not Aaron was as insane as he seemed. Hm. Suspicious.
Right about that time, a few guys walked in, and two made a beeline for our table. Apparently, they had been at whatever bar Aaron had been in before meeting up with me. They were friendly, and I really did like them. They were fun, kind, and they happened to be gay, so I wasn't concerned about being hit on. They were also both southern and mega sassy, which happens to be one of my favorite combinations in anybody. One of their friends challenged Aaron to a game of pool, and after checking with me (the only polite thing he did besides opening the door for me), they walked off to a pool table a little further away. It actually worked out pretty well, considering I had wanted to be away from him. This is also where our stories sort of split for a while. I made a joke that I would be his cheerleader, but really didn't pay much attention to their game. He came over now and again to flirt with me for a minute, or update me on who was winning, but mostly he stayed with his buddy, continuing to down tequila. Todd and Mark, my new pals, began their interrogation. Well, mostly Todd.
"So. Friend of Aaron?"
"Sort of. I just met him."
"Do you like him?"
"Too early to say." I was lying through my teeth.
"You're lying through your teeth, girl. It's okay, I don't know him that well, I won't say anything."
"Oh...well, thanks, I guess."
"I have to say, I really didn't think you were his type." He looked to Mark, and they shared a smile.
Mark chimed in, "I mean, don't get us wrong, honey, you're cute and all, but...well....Oh, you tell her."
"Tell me what?" I asked. They just kept smiling. "Guys. Just tell me what's going on."
It was then that Todd told me to finish up my drink. He was gonna buy my next one, because I was going to need it. For reasons I can't quite explain, I followed his instructions. My gut was telling me to stick with these dudes, and my gut was also telling me I was about to get some serious gossip.
"Okay," Todd looked around, then leaned in over the table, lowering his voice "you didn't hear it from me, but I heard Aaron's had a relationship for quite a while now. Someone much older. Someone with a lot more money." He looked me up and down, "No offense."
I was so surprised. "None taken. So you're telling me he has a sugar momma?"
They both cackled. "Oh, honey. Goodness, honey, no. Not a momma."
"Wait, what are you saying?"
There was a long pause.
"We're saying we're surprised to see him out with a woman. You are a woman, aren't you?"
"Yes, I am" I was now understanding what they were on about. "Wow...so I guess he's bi?" I asked.
"I never thought so until tonight, but yeah, maybe."
Now, a person's sexuality is none of my business, and I don't actually mind dating bisexual men, but this sugar daddy business was a bit much. Apparently, Aaron had been out and about with the older gentleman just days before, referring to him as his boyfriend. Todd had seen them together earlier in the week, as had everyone in their little group. They all frequent the same bars and clubs.
"What are we talking about over here?" Aaron appeared suddenly, placing his hat on my head.
"Music." Todd said quickly, "Did you know your girl is quite the oldies buff?"
"Nice. No, I didn't."
He asked if I was okay to hang out with my new friends a while, because things were getting heated over in the pool department. Some double or nothing nonsense. Of course, I was. Todd, Mark, and I continued chatting, cracking each other up, and getting on well. Every now and again, we'd hear Aaron and his opponent trash talking each other, and sometimes it would shock us enough to stop to shake our heads before returning to our own civilized conversation. At one point, we even thought we heard a rape joke being bandied about, which was way uncool, to say the very least. I had already been there about an hour (which was longer than I'd planned on staying, but I liked these guys), and I had just mentioned to Mark I was thinking of heading home when Aaron came storming back over to the table, slamming his shot glass down, and putting on his jacket.
"Well, I'm getting kicked out."
"Really? Why?"
"Stupid bitch over there complained about me. I guess you can't curse in a fucking bar."
We were all confused.
"They're throwing you out for cursing? What actually happened? Who did you curse at?"
It was then that the manager, a woman (unfortunately, because this guy clearly hates women), came up and told him it was time to pay his tab and go. He began to raise his voice at her, and I stepped in, stupidly between them, placing a hand on his chest.
"Hey, hey. It's okay, no need to make it worse than it is. Just chill out for a second."
Irritated, he did briefly listen, turning his attention to digging through his wallet before trying to get under the manager's skin by muttering about how ridiculous this whole thing was.
"Can't curse in a bar...makes no sense.."
"You know you can't use that word." she said flatly.
He hissed back, "It's just a word! People drink in here! They're gonna cuss!"
"Not the way you used it. It wasn't just a word."
They began screaming back and forth, Aaron getting more heated, with most of his argument being that he hadn't said anything wrong, and that nobody can take a joke.
I jumped in, trying to understand the situation"I'm sorry, but what word?"
Aaron looked away, but the manager didn't. "Rape."
"Wait what?" I asked. "This is for saying rape?"
"It's not for 'saying' rape, it's for threatening rape."
"WHAT?!" I grabbed Aaron by the arm "Who did you threaten?! Did you threaten someone!?"
He didn't answer me, but I looked around, frantically. Over by the table he was playing on were two women, one sobbing into her friend's arms. It turns out that rape joke wasn't a joke at all, and it wasn't directed at his pal, who'd disappeared already. I was horrified. Disgusted. Mortified. Livid. I was burning up with rage and embarrassment.
"Your boyfriend has three minutes to pay and get out, or I'm calling the cops."
Aaron paid his tab, stiffed the waitress, and wandered into the main bar area, getting in an argument with the bartender, who jumped over bar at him. While they were wrestling out the door, the manager was calling the police, and I went to the girls in the corner.
"Hi, I'm sorry, you don't know me--"
"Don't you have to go get your boyfriend?"
"Him? No, he's not my boyfriend. He's not even a friend. I don't know him. I'm on a Tinder date."
Both of them softened, and let me continue. I wanted to say that I was so sorry. I let them know he was kicked out now, and nobody should have to feel the way they were feeling. "If you want or need anything, I'll be here for just a little while longer, but it's on me."
They accepted this, understood I didn't want to be associated with that monster, and let me buy them each a beer. They came over to our table, which was by the window. We all wanted to watch the scene Aaron was making outside, and be sure he was leaving. At this point, several of us had several reasons to feel unsafe. He now had his shirt off, screaming at the night sky, alone. Very Marlon Brando. He did manage to peel out of the parking lot before police arrived, and we all agreed to hope he didn't hurt anyone on his way home.
While all of this was happening, Amy had been busy defending Todd, Mark, and myself. The other patrons were concerned and angry about the way my date had behaved, as word was travelling through the building quickly. They were wondering why we weren't all thrown out. She was making sure they knew it was a bad first date, and telling the story of waiting on him. She had also let her manager know none of us were really associated. One by one, other customers came up to express their condolences, offer protection if he came back, and one man even bought a round of shots for the lot of us (I didn't take mine). Even so, I was still so freaked out. The night only lasted a little less than two hours, most of it being spent with other people, and had been absolutely wild. It was just before midnight, and I knew I was going to head straight to my favorite bar, around the corner from my house, to sit and process everything that had happened. Even now, only I know just how much I've left out, but I'm trying not to write an entire book.
The girls left, and it was back to just being me and the boys. We couldn't stop talking about how crazy everything had gotten. He and the manager had been screaming over my head when I was in between them, glasses had been knocked over, he'd thrown a chair, things got nuts. Out of curiosity, we asked Amy for a copy of Aaron's receipt. We wanted to know how much he'd had to drink in his two hours, and I took a picture as a memento. As I tried to get the lighting right, I remembered something.
"Hey, Todd. Is he actually a personal trainer?"
"No, I don't think so."
"Oh."
"I'm guessing he left out what he actually does for a living. Smart. I would."
"The dancing thing? No, he told me about that. Made it sound past tense."
They were cackling again. I had to ask. "Do I even want to know? I don't even think I can get surprised at this point."
Mark smoothed my hair, "I know, it's been a rough night for you." He looked to Todd, "Maybe we should just tell her later."
Todd disagreed, and turned to me. "Don't you know where he was today?"
"He said he was at work."
"What did he say he was doing?"
"He said he had a photo shoot. He doesn't really seem like a model type, though,"
Todd shrugged. "He's kind of a model, sure."
I caught on. "So, what, it's nude or something? Oh God, is it porn?"
They looked at each other, then at me, and nodded.
"Oh, great," I said. "That's one for the books."
I couldn't help but notice their sudden lack of eye contact, as if there was more to tell me, but they were holding back. I had been standing with my purse, ready to walk out for most of this exchange, but now I sat back down. I readied myself.
"Guys." They looked at me. "Guys, just tell me. It's not like I'm ever going to talk to him again."
They each took a deep breath. Mark said a strange name, and asked if I had ever heard that name before. I hadn't. He then handed me his phone, and told me to Google the name followed by "videos," but told me not to click any of them. I searched, I saw, I gave Mark his phone back. None of us spoke for a few minutes. Eventually, I had to break the silence.
"So. He...does gay porn, then."
"Yeah, he's actually pretty well known."
"Y'know, I jokingly asked him earlier if he was famous, and he got pretty mad."
So many things suddenly made so much more sense. Mark again smoothed my hair, frizzed with August humidity, and probably stress. "Let's walk you out, girl."
Todd offered his arm, which I took. We all exchanged numbers, and I headed back north to my house.
I don't think I had quite processed the evening until a week or two later. I did get a text the next day from Aaron that read "Hey, things got a little crazy last night. I had a really great time with you :)" Although I never responded, I still can't help but wonder what he found enjoyable about our time together. I forwarded it immediately to Todd and Mark, and we all shared a laugh. I contacted that mutual friend, Joseph, after a few days to tell him a little bit about it. He wasn't shocked, but he did feel bad that he didn't get to warn me before we went out. They aren't close. He also verified all the gossip I'd been told. And that was it. The worst first date I've ever been on. Sometimes, I almost forget about it, until something specific reminds me. A perfect example occurred nearly five months later, the day after Christmas, like a present. A random friend had posted an article about how a gay porn actor and his studio or agency or whatever, had gotten themselves in a legal bind over a film. The porn film had been quite offensive to a large group of people. Yes, pornography had crossed the line. Porn. But it was Aaron's picture, right there, front and center.
I don't really know how to wrap this up in a neat little bow, and it still feels a little surreal. Dating is the pits, man. However, no matter how nervous you may be about dating, you can at least rest easy in the knowledge that it would be very unlikely for you to also end up going out with an egotistical, misogynistic, tequila pounding, loud, gay porn star who managed to make porn that was too offensive, who doesn't tip, and gets violently thrown out of a bar for threatening to rape a woman simply because she was in the way of his pool shot. But if you do, make sure you take a picture of the tab so we can compare drunks.
xoxo
