Open Jerk Night

Submitted by Jessamyn:

Terrence was in my college literature class. As the only freshmen in the class, we had bonded easily. He seemed like a fun guy, albeit a little socially awkward, so when he asked me out for coffee, I accepted. He picked me up at my dorm and we drove to a coffee shop.

When we arrived, Terrence informed me that it was open mic night and that he was going to share some of his poetry. Although there was indeed a microphone in one corner of the coffee shop, no one was using it.

Terrence bounded up to the microphone and opened a large notebook. He then began to read.

Apparently no one ever took advantage of the shop's open mic night because people seemed alarmed that someone began loudly reading poetry. Of course this might also have been due to the fact that Terrence's “poetry” was so explicit that people were turning red and laughing in embarrassment. I'm no prude and it was making me uncomfortable.

He read fifteen poems before finally returning to our table. He then told me that he was a celebrity among the local poetry community and that his poetic skills were acclaimed around the country. He bragged about himself for almost an hour while I sat in silence, wondering if he could ever be as interested in another person as he was in himself.

I'd had enough of his ego (and his poor writing skills) for one evening and told him that I needed to return home to check on my sick roommate. He agreed to drive me back but said he needed to stop at a friend's place on the way.

After driving for 20 minutes, however, Terrence did not stop at a house. He pulled his car into a small cemetery. It was after dark and seriously creepy.

“Come on!” he shouted, “Let's play hide and seek!” and bounded away from the car. I stood watching as he leaped over tombstones and darted around graves. Suddenly, as he tried to jump a particularly large monument, he tripped and landed on his knee.

When he didn't stand back up, I walked over to see if he was okay. Although it was just a minor scrape, he was crying. I hauled him to his feet and, when he insisted he was too injured to drive, took his keys and drove us back to campus. As I parked the car in front of my dorm, he looked at me with a sly grin and asked, “How about we visit your bed?”