3aib! And The City.

An everyday girl who happens to be a psychologist

My Knight(s) in Shining Armor - Part 2

14th November 2011 - 7 mins read

My shameful readers, welcome back. 

Picking up from part 1, remember that I left off at getting to the restaurant and meeting my date/dates? 

Here I was, standing in the restaurant, technically on a date with eight men (Sammy and his seven friends). I was in so much shock that I completely froze. I have previously discussed how you think you’re so tough but the minute you’re in a compromising situation, you have absolutely no idea how to act or what to say. In theory, I would have run towards the window, jumped out like Super Woman and flew out of the country in my shock without turning around to look back once. In reality, it was almost as if I had forgotten how to use my arms and legs to walk towards the table and take a seat. 

Since Sammy and his friends were regulars at the restaurant, the manager came out and decided to give them a private table in the back of the restaurant. As if the situation wasn’t awkwardly miserable enough, at this point I had began questioning if someone had paid the manager at this restaurant to make a mockery out of my life. I quickly looked up to see if there hidden cameras in the room because this must have been some terribly unfunny joke. Sammy quickly introduced me to his friends and went off to the buffet to get food. I was fasting and didn’t even care to eat at this point because the only thought in my head was a prayer asking God for the apocalypse to take place. Keep in mind that during this time, I had been broken up with Charles for about six months and was praying that I would possibly meet a nice guy. There were many jerks between Charles and Sammy and there was a part of me that believed Sammy was going to be the nice guy I was waiting for. You should also know this about me: In my experiences, I have redefined my terminology. In my books, nice guy is not Prince Charming. He is not Mr. Shows Up With Roses At My Doorstep. He is simply a guy who is not married, is not a Guinness record coward and is not a pathological liar. This is how low I have stooped in my expectations and believe it or not, I am still incapable of finding such a guy. 

I sat on the corner of the rectangular table colder than an ice cube as I just tried to maintain my breathing before collapsing on the floor of a heart attack. In the meantime, I was yelling at myself in my head because I felt like a paid escort as I sat on this table with eight men. At a first glance, Sammy’s friends seemed like nice guys (and by nice here I mean respectful). But they say that the greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn’t exist. And what followed next, was no less than Satan’s best work. 

As I sat there staring into my cup of soup, I wondered if there was a way I could channel enough brain energy to transform myself into liquid that could slowly disappear into the bowl. Fine, I didn’t really think that but now I wish I had because the words that flew out of Sammy’s friends’ mouths next fired at me like cannonballs. It wasn’t even a full 90 seconds before I began hearing the most disturbing series of words I have ever heard in my life. They uttered words so ghastly, so unspeakable, that I refuse to publish them under my name in this blog. What I will tell you is this: They sat there, discussing in details, every possible explicit sinful action you can imagine on the planet. One after the other, the guys shared their ghastly experiences with each other, knocking off the entire list of sins right in front my eyes. Also, if you ever do happen to meet me in person, remind me about Sammy and I will tell you the story myself in more details. 

I was in a devastating case of shock. For the hour that I sat on the table, I felt every second pass by me like a decade. I was messaging my girls on my phone as I involuntarily took a vow of silence during this so-called nightmare of a date. I really had a below zero level of words to say. Anything in the world would have been better than the position I was in that evening, including but not limited to, being locked in chains, drowning in the ocean, getting eaten by sharks and washing up on shore with only one arm and half a face left. What upset me the most was not the fact that I was so mistakingly stupid about judging Sammy. I didn’t care about that, it’s not like it was the first time I was wrong about the so-called right guy. This phenomenon had become the equivalent of my digestive system’s function. It was so normal to me and failed to even shock me in the slightest. What I was upset about was the blatant disrespect for my existence. I’m not a judgmental person and I believe everyone is entitled to living their life as they choose. It’s not my place to tell anyone what to do or not do. But I found it so utterly disrespectful that they didn’t even consider the fact that I was not only a woman but a complete stranger. They don’t know me or my values and didn’t stop to think for a second that I might be offended at their topics of choice. Yes, they probably assumed their friend picked up a random girl off the street who was completely devoid of any sense of morality, but still. They should have watched themselves, even just a little bit, out of consideration for my presence. Even out of basic social diplomacy, there are certain things you do not discuss in front of women who you happen to be meeting for the first, and definitely last, time in your life. Additionally, I was mortified that half of these guys were well into their 40s and still conducting acts considered shameful for a hormonal teenage boy. 

I should have left long before I even gave them a chance to speak but I really couldn’t. I decided to just wait until they all finished eating before running for my life. As I saw them wrapping up their meals, I began planning my exit. There wasn’t a chance in hell I wanted these guys paying a penny for my food, so I took money out of my wallet discretely and clenched it in my fist. A few seconds before I decided to leave, I quickly put it under Sammy’s phone. Unfortunately, he saw me do this and began creating a typical fuss about me paying. The guy sitting at the head of the table saw us arguing about it and interjected our argument saying, “What are you doing?! Are you crazy?! Put your money away right now!” I have been in enough of these situations to know better than to argue so I forcefully retreated and kept my money. I was so disgusted with them and was even more so now as I thought to myself, “Oh, now you’re a gentleman and you want to pay for me. Now you have respect. Where was this chivalry before when you were discussing your cousin’s sexcapades?” 

As I put my arm under my bag, Sammy asked why I was leaving so soon and I said I had plans with my friends. He then asked me when he would see me again and I swear, without a single thought in my head, I blurted out, “Actually, I don’t know when that’s going to happen because I’m going to be busy for a very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, VERY long time.” Sammy’s jaw dropped in absolute shock as he couldn’t believe the verbal slap I had just given him on the face. In response he said, “Well how about this. Why don’t you just give me a call when you’re free?” and I said, “Yes but I guarantee that it won’t be for a very long time.” Sammy mumbled insignificant words back to me as I excused myself from the table and waved a group goodbye to people I prayed I would never see again. 

I sprinted out of the restaurant faster than an Olympics triple gold medal champion and before I even got to my car, my fingers were dialing Ellie’s number. I screamed at the top of my lungs in such a disturbing manner that I think a window in my car cracked. I somehow wished that within the next few seconds I would open my eyes from a miserable nightmare, but as you know by now, these stories of mine are in fact reality. I was in such a scary stage of rage that when I happened to notice two guys in the car on my left out of the corner of my eye trying to talk to me, I began yelling at them at the top of my lungs as I shut my window thinking of just how much I hated all men at that moment. I thought they were hitting on me until I drove up and looked in my rearview mirror. I saw them talking to someone in the car behind me and they were simply trying to ask for directions. I laughed to myself as I realized how insane I must’ve seemed to them. Hey random dudes in the car that night, if you’re reading this: I’m sorry. It wasn’t your fault I was on crazy mode that day. 

In a way, I dodged a bullet with Sammy because a few months down the line, I told the entire story to my male friend. He paused and looked at me, asking me to describe the guy in more detail. His face began to slowly change the more I told until all of a sudden he said to me, “Oh my GOD, I KNOW THAT GUY! He lives in my friend’s building and I’ve seen him several times. I don’t even need to tell you the way he was talking or the things he was doing but he’s absolutely disgusting.” My friend spent the next five hours rolling on the floor laughing at me, though I fail to see the humor in my obviously miserable dating life (Okay fine, it’s a little bit funny). I saw Sammy by chance one other time months later and thank God, through my acquired detective skills, I managed to avoid him seeing me that night. 

Sometimes I wonder if these things that happen to me are a direct result of karma for something a parallel me did an alternative dimension. Who knows. But yes, while many girls do share similar experiences to the ones shared in my blog like Ellie says, I don’t there are many that could say they’ve gone on a first date with eight charmingly gut-wrenching men. 

Kisses and hugs,