The WORST date of my life....so far.

Valentine's day has me thinking about romance. And dating. And there is no doubt that I have had a lot of romance in my life, and a lot of dates. A lot of fantastic ones - like the ones with Gary - but also...some not so good. This is the story of the very worst one.

I was out (or so I thought) of a TERRIBLE relationship. Just brutal. One of those that shake you to your core, maybe you won't survive kind of relationships. And I was NOT eager to start dating again. But my best friend, Mieke had found the love of her life, and she was anxious for me to get out there and start 'healing'. She was convinced that there were plenty of good men in Los Angeles. I was starting to think that this city had made them extinct.
Anyway, we were down at my local pub one night (Bird's) and the bartender developed a huge crush on Mieke - through no fault of her own - and started buying all of our drinks for us. This NEVER happens in LA. Not even at Bird's. But who could blame this sweet bartender? Who could blame ANYONE for falling head over feet for Mieke? She was and is the most scrumptious, Dutch bon-bon you can possibly imagine!

As we got tipsy, Mieke became more committed to her mission. That was - to convince me that there were LOVELY men all around LA, and that I could be dating any number of them, if I would just give it a shot.
Sure enough, a fairly attractive man was sort of staring at me. I tried to avoid his gaze, but Mieke smiled at him.
"You see?" she said. "What about him? He's cute! And he's CLEARLY into you!"
I peeked at the guy around Mieke's shoulder, like a scaredy-cat. "I don't know..." I mumbled.

Before I knew it,that guy was right over with us, Mieke being sweet and charming to him, and whispering in my ear, "You can give him your number! It won't HURT anything!"

I wasn't so sure, but I gave him my number as Mieke suggested. She was right, after all. I'd never meet anyone nice if I didn't take a chance every once in awhile.

I can't remember this guy's name.I have blocked it out. So, I'll just call him John.
John called me up, and asked me on a date, 2 days later. He seemed very impatient. But, with Mieke's voice in my head, I said, "Ok."
Only I didn't quite trust him, so I suggested we just meet at Bird's again (RIGHT down the street from my house - in case I needed a quick getaway), and I parked my car nearby on Canyon.

John was physically attractive. He was tall, but not too tall. Had dark, curly hair, and green eyes,with a big smile. As soon as we met at Birds, he started in on telling me all about himself. He had a great big studio in Venice - which he OWNED (that was very important, because THAT was all about him letting me know he had money), he was a musician, and a composer, and owned some weird business, he told me his astrological sign - he talked a mile a minute, never asked ME any questions. He MIGHT have been interested in the fact that I had FOUR children, if he HAD asked any questions....but...you know...it was the John show.

Then, he asked me if I wanted to go somewhere else, so that we could talk. I thought about that. I wasn't sure if I wanted to hear HIM talk anymore.
"We could go to 'Daddy's'" he said. "It's right down the street, it's really cool - have you been there?"
I had NOT been there - and had been curious about it. All my friends had told me it was pretty sweet, so - for that reason alone - I decided to go.

We drove down to 'Daddy's' and settled in to a couple of cozy red leather club chairs. It was dark and sexy, with a 1930's kind of vibe. Nice. John blathered on about himself some more, and just when I thought I was about to be bored into a coma, he did something VERY odd.
This was our FIRST DATE. TOTAL STRANGERS. (just reminding you of that)
He reached over during some blathering multi-paragraph nonsense that he was spewing, and TWEAKED my nipple. Yes. That is what he did.
Through my shirt, obviously. But, I wasn't wearing a bra, and , uh....I was a little tipsy - I wasn't quite sure that it had really happened - or that it wasn't MEANT to be something else...? Who would DO that?

I excused myself right away and went to the ladies room.
My brain was doing summersaults. "Did that really happen?" I thought."It MUST have been an accident! People don't DO that!"

I went back to our club chairs, where John had procured us more drinks. I didn't think I needed any more drinks.
He blathered animatedly about something else. I sat up VERY straight in my club chair, sitting as FAR away from him as possible. Trying to look very prim and sober. I just LOOKED at my drink. I wasn't going to drink that.
And just as I was about to interrupt him, to say that I HAD to get home, he did it AGAIN!

There was NO DOUBT about it this time. He leaned over real fast and did it - hard!
I jumped up and said, "I have to go!"
"No!" he said. "You haven't even finished your drink!"
(I hadn't even STARTED my drink)
"I have to go NOW. You need to drive me back to my car, or I'll call a cab." I said.
"But it's like a RULE - that you have to finish your drink..." he pressed."It's rude not to finish a drink that someone has bought for you."
I just looked at him, appalled. "I need to go NOW. I am NOT going to finish that drink, and I guess I'll get a cab."
"Oh, you wack-job!", John said in this overly goofy 'I think I'm so cute' kind of a way,as he grabbed my hand and pulled me back down. "Give me two minutes to finish MY drink, and I'll drive you to your car - IF you must!"
"I'm not giving you two minutes." I said. "I need to leave NOW."
Like most women in their mid to late thirties, I LOVED being called a 'wack-job' by a stranger that had just violated cardinal date rule NUMBER ONE : do NOT tweak a girl's nipple on a first date - and possibly NEVER ....in PUBLIC.
I stormed out of 'Daddy's', and John followed me.
"Oh, come ON.." he whined. "My car is right here! I'll drive you back!"
So, I let him drive me back to Canyon, where my car was parked ( I could have walked home), and as I was going to my car, John continued his weirdness.
"Come ON!!! STay out a little longer, PLEEEEEAAASE!"
"I can't. I have to relieve the BABYSITTER."
"Oh come on! I'll give her TWO HUNDRED DOLLARS to stay a little later!" he yelled into my neighborhood. "Wait - you have KIDS???!"
"I certainly do! " I said crisply, walking towards my car in the dark. "I would have told you..."
"I LOVE kids! Let me pay the babysitter! Come ON!!!"
"Nope. She has to get home. Gotta go!"
I was almost to my car when he came up from behind me and picked me up. Threw me over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.
"I'm not letting you go home!" he shouted to ALL my neighbors. "I'll pay for the babysitter! I'm NEVER letting you go!!!"
I started to kick and squirm as hard as I could. And when I had freed myself, I turned to him in a passion as I opened my car. "Don't you EVER call me again! Do you understand?!!!"
"I'll pay the babysitter! " he howled at the top of his lungs. "Whatever she wants! I have LOADS of money! Whatever you want! Just don't GO!!!"
"Do NOT call me! I do NOT want to hear from you again!" were my parting words as I screeched up the hill towards my house.

A year later, I saw him at Bird's again. Which seemed odd to me, because it's really far from Venice.
I hid behind my friends, like an episode of 'I Love Lucy'. One of those friends was Mieke. I gave her a nice smack on the arm, for revenge.
But, just when I thought I had snuck out of Bird's in the clear, John started yelling at me on the sidewalk outside.
"Why didn't you answer my calls?" he yelled. I started walking faster, but he was fast.
"I LOVED you! You were like a white LIGHT! A WHITE LIGHT in my life! Why didn't you call me back!!??" ( I have witnesses for that 'white light' line. I am NOT making that up.)
I couldn't take it any more. I turned and yelled right back at him, in front of everyone.
"You were the WORST date I have EVER been on! You were HORRIBLY INAPPROPRIATE! I do not EVER want to see you or speak to you again!"
I yelled this at him on the crowded sidewalk of Franklin by Bronson. And then I hurried on to my car, as he kept yelling about his delusions of me.