Vincent and I met online, and we had enough in common for a date to be in order. He was an attractive bartender and substitute teacher who was also attending college part time, studying marketing.
We met at a park and took a short walk, then we arranged to drive to a restaurant in town in our separate cars, as it was a short drive away. I followed him most of the way there and he drove towards town, then took a turn that led us further away.
I called him and asked, "Where are you going?"
"To the restaurant. Duh," he replied.
"But it's back in the other direction."
A pause, then, "Are you sure?"
"Positive."
Another pause, then, "No it's not!" and then he hung up.
I followed him for about another five minutes before I called him again. "We're not in town anymore. It's behind us."
"This is a shortcut."
"No, it's not! We're going to have to backtrack, now."
He yelled into the phone, "I'm a fucking bartender, okay! I tend bars! I think I know my way around town."
I stopped following him at that point and turned back toward town. "When you're done going the wrong way," I said, "You can meet me there."
I'm not sure if he heard me, because he was continuing his rant: "I'm a schoolteacher in America, and I know my way around the planet. Believe you me. The planet!"
I hung up and turned back to town. I made it to the restaurant easily and waited there about twenty minutes before leaving.
On my way home, he called to ask, "Where are you?"
I said, "Home. I waited for you for twenty minutes at the restaurant."
Silence on his end, then, "Where are you?"
"Home."
"Oh. Where's the restaurant?"
"Back in town."
"Oh. I think I made a wrong turn somewhere."
"I'll say."
"Do you still want to do dinner?"
"No thanks."
"Where are you?"
"Home. Goodnight." I hung up, and that was the end of my date.
He was leading you out of town? I smell another foiled creepy farm ritual.
ReplyDeleteI love how "I'm home" just doesn't register with him. Like it's so improbable it just CAN'T be true.
ReplyDelete