Melliblog

What is the worst date you've ever been on?

Worst date ever!
Oh easy. My senior prom was an awful, awful date.

And it's hardly surprising because the guy I was dating was an asshole, but even considering all the bad dates we went on, prom stands out with sickening clarity.

I was dating a guy named Renzo, a Peruvian drummer. I was 17 and he was 22, and we met through my friend Kathy (also 17). I really didn't know him at all when we first went out, I just figured that dating someone was better than dating no one. And it took me a long time to figure out that sometimes dating no one is a much better option, even if it means no sex.

On the first date, I was only mildly turned off by his shallowness and his patronizing manners.

A month or so later, after we first slept together (like immediately after, like still breathing hard) and he chose that moment to confide that he was in love with my best friend, Kathy, who introduced us, I was disgusted and insulted. But then prom was coming up and I didn't have anyone else in mind to go with, so I figured I'd go with him anyway. How much bad could it be?
Bad, bad, bad. Bad from beginning to end.

First, he didn't want to go because he thought he was too old to go to a high school prom. Clearly not too old to be dating a girl in high school, but too old to go to prom. (and I don't think he would have minded if I'd gone with another guy.) I pressed to find out why going to prom was an issue and he complained that he couldn't afford it. So I said, fine, just dress yourself and pick me up and I'll take care of the rest. He took me too literally at that, I would find out later.
In the day or two beforehand, he told me that he was embarrassed by his car and didn't want to drive it to the prom. I told him that I didn't care and wasn't bothered by his car- a truck in reasonably good shape. He wanted me to drive, in my old battered volvo which was maybe 10 years older than his car. I refused, since I planned on getting drunk and didn't want to have to drive. He said that he'd borrow someone else's car. I told him to pick me up at 6 since I wanted to have time to get something to eat first and get to the dance before the doors closed at 9 at the hotel which was close to an hour drive away in SF.

On the day of the prom, I was ready at about 6:15 and Renzo hadn't shown up yet. I didn't bother to call, since I figured he was already on his way. When he still hadn't shown up an hour later, I was worried, and finally called him at home (this was 1998, before everyone had cell phones). I was shocked when he picked up his home phone because he lived across the bay and it would take him at least a half hour to drive over just to pick me up. I asked him what the hell was going on, and he said he was still trying to find a car! I said I don't give a damn what you drive! Just come here right now!!!! Right now! Hang up and go!

He showed up at my place at 8 PM, leaving us no time to get food. He was 2 hours late for a borrowed car that was functionally identical to his own, a nondescript truck. He didn't bring me a corsage- he took me literally about the money thing, I suppose. I was totally pissed, but I still wanted to go to the prom, even though I wished I wasn't going with him, so I swallowed the tirade that was forming internally and told him to step on the gas. He drove like a maniac, weaving in and out of post-rush hour traffic on 101 at close to 100 mph, as I clutched the passenger handle, wincing at the close calls. Even so, we got there with just barely enough time.

About 2 minutes after we'd "checked in," the damn boy was nowhere to be found. He'd just walked off somewhere without saying anything to me. Doing calming breathing, I temporarily gave up on him in favor of finding my friends. I think I might have had a much more pleasant night if it had turned out that he'd ditched me completely, but he showed up right after I found my friends. Kathy was among them, of course, and Renzo got all pissy and pouty. Presumably because he was there with me when he would have much rather been there with her. I was really working hard at trying to salvage the night, so I suggested we go dance. You know, if Renzo couldn't hang around my friends because he got all moony over my best friend, maybe he would be tolerably pleasant once we were back by ourselves, dancing. After a song or two, Renzo stopped dead on the dance floor in front of me during a fast song. I felt really stupid trying to have a good time in the face of that kind of inconsiderate pouty childishness, and I finally lost my temper. I stormed off the dance floor and, sensing him following me out of the ballroom, made a hasty course for the girls bathroom, where I figured he wouldn't dare follow. Having reached the girl's room, I literally started screaming in frustration. After having vowed to ditch him for the rest of the dance, I finally calmed down and left the bathroom. Renzo was waiting outside, and he asked me if he could talk to me alone. I figured he was going to apologize, so I said okay. He didn't want to apologize. He wanted to talk about Kathy. I tried to ditch him when I saw where the conversation was going, he tried to follow. I passed right by a large group of my friends and I couldn't stop, because I didn't want to have a fight in front of them. I called out loudy as I passed, "Is the asshole still following me?"

I don't even remember how we spent the rest of the night but it was torturous because we couldn't really hang out with my normal group of friends (because Kathy was there). I guess I might have ended up talking to some girls from my AP English class, because it was one of them who suggested the jazz club with the live music, which was nearby and open late, as a possibility for post-prom socializing, since, obviously, my original plan of hanging out with my regular friends at the hotel was not going to happen. I probably would have been wise to cut my losses and ask to be taken home directly, but teenage hormones and sex drives account for far more foolish decisions on a regular basis, I guess. I suggested that Renzo take me to the jazz club, with the plan of getting drunk enough to not care what a jerk he was so that I could satisfy the need to get laid.

We never even got there. We found the place, and were looking for a parking spot, when some crazy mo-fo who was probably on pcp showed up and starting punching our moving car. At first we were totally perplexed by the loud sounds coming from the back of the car, and Renzo hit the brakes out of surprise. I was shocked when the source of the banging revealed itself to be a crazy looking guy running around to the front of the car so he could beat on it with his fists. We just sat there staring, as this guy was furiously beating the hood of the car. I didn't think to lock my door, I was completely flummoxed by this weird behavior. Then the guy, who had been waving his arms and yelling inbetween punching the truck, staring climbing up the hood. At that point, I got scared, but before I could say anything, Renzo hit the gas and then the brakes, to throw the guy off the front! Like this was some kind of movie boxing match, the crazy guy got back up and went for the front of the car again. This time, seemingly on some kind of horrible reflex, before the guy could climb on the hood again, Renzo hit the gas hard and ran him over with the truck.
yes, how many of your bad dates included your date running someone over with his car?

I was totally freaking out, thinking, oh my god, he just killed him, Renzo's going to go to jail and I'm going to spend the rest of the night at the ploice station because my date just killed someone with his car!!!

Unbelievably, the guy got back up less than a minute later. But he might have decided he didn't want to beat up the truck anymore, because he kind of wandered off, looking no worse than he did when I first saw him.

My heart was beating like crazy and I was freaked out as much by Renzo's potentially lethal reflexes and descion making skills in a crisis as by the inexplicable attack. So what does my psycho date do then? Goes to park the car, right on that block! You know, so we can go continue our date over at the club like we planned. I screamed at him, what the fuck are you doing? You can't park here! That guy you hit is going to come over here and kill you!

Renzo's response, proving his unbeleivable machismo and stupidity: I'll kill him first.

Nevermind that that guy stock up to being run over by a truck! Nevermind that he's clearly hopped up on some junk that has him completely aggressive and feeling no pain! 5'7 inch, 160 pound, pot smoking telemarker-drummer Renzo will kick his ass! No problem. And then, when this brilliant plan goes awry, who's stuck there, but his small 17 year old date in three inch heels? What about me????

"What about me??"
"Oh yeah"

And he drove away. yeah, asshole, what about me?

worst. date. ever.

There was a QotD a while ago about favorite words that I missed because for some reason, Vox doesn't work at work.

Old fashioned slang:

Drat, Keen

Fake words:

Jerkwad, Spleesh!, Globvouisly

50 cent words:

Cantankerous, Curmudgeon, Nefarious, Obtuse

Hmm, I had a lot more and I wrote them down. Have to retreive the rest later.

What's the current hottest restaurant in your city?  Have you tried it out yet?

I don't know, but I'm positive we couldn't afford it.

I don't yet feel comfortable enough at work to risk blogging there. Not because I'm afraid being caught in person goofing off as much as because I'm paranoid about what a firm with that much money could spend on IT snoopers to police what's going on on company computers. Perhaps later.

A) I've come across one of the most amusing misspellings of my name yet: Mlissa. No "e." I got that one on my Starbucks cup on Wednesday. Almost as funny as when Kaiser had me down as Telissa. WTF?!? Misspellings of the last names don't really count because the last name is foreign and strange. But there's no excuse for misspelling Melissa. That is a very common American name.

On the Starbucks side thought, I am not pleased with the coffee from the Starbucks near my work. It always comes out too sweet even though I specify the number of pumps of flavor I want in my coffee. I even tried adding another shot of espresso to balance out the taste. I tried the almond flavor yesterday, which was a big mistake which will not be repeated. Almond flavoring is NASTY- WAAAY too sweet in a sickly kind of way. I couldn't even drink it, which was a problem because coffee is an essential part of making it through the work day when one's work is so simple and brainless that literally a retarded person could it do it. Sorting through giant stacks of documents is really a job better suited for a computer. I have no idea why they waste time, money, paper and my sanity by printing the docs out and having a person sort through when a computer could do it much better. And then at the end of the process...? They scan them back into the computer. It kills me. WWHHHYYYYYY??? And besides the tedium of it, my hands are covered in paper cuts, which sting like little infected bites.

Still, I think I'm glad I have that job. It's better than sitting at home fretting about money and loneliness.

B) I need to readjust my self image of my outward appearance. There was a time back when I had purple hair and a dozen or so piercings when no one would have been surprised to discover I have a tattoo on my back. The piercings have been gone since my surgery in 2004, when almost all of them closed up during my convalensence in the hospital and later in San Carlos. When you can't swallow your saliva or food and you're weak and hobbled with pain, restoring body piercings is not at the forefront of your mind. Nor is touching up your roots. When I got better, I decided not to re-pierce because I need a yearly MRI and removing the body metal is a problem and not something I want to have to deal with regularly. I decided to let the natural brown hair grow out in anticipation of the wedding. I wanted to get it as long as possible so the desired hairstyle would work and do it with my hair as healthy as possible, which meant resisting the urge to dye it.

Hence, my hair is long and natural brown. I have no piercings and the scars are fairly subtle. I work in a law firm, which means my clothes are conservative. That tattoo is permanent, however, and one of my co-workers noticed it when I bent over to lug out another heaping box full of ducments, and she was so surprised to see it that she couldn't stop herself from commenting, even though she clearly thought she was being rude or inappropriate somehow. She said that she would have to "readjust [her] stereotypes" or something.

Now what caught my curiosity was wondering what stereotype she was assigning me to. Law firm employee? (They tend towards conservative and pragmatic- with Igor being the obvious exception.) Young married white girl with long brown hair? (The co-worker is black, maybe in her early 30ies with braided/dreaded locks.) Don't know, but clearly I don't look like the kind of person hiding a tatttoo under her business clothes anymore. Strange.

I've got the sense of my immediate co-workers after the few days that I've been there, and although they're nice and relatively friendly, I don't see them becoming friends, which is a shame. I need some friends around here.

What game are you really good at?

Bookworm! My high score is over 15 million. Other people play games like World of Warcraft or CIV or Oblivion for days on end. I play the same book worm game endlessly.

I'd say I'm good at backgammon, but luck is too much of a factor to ever gaurantee a win, even against a stupid opponent.

I'd say I'm good at Pirates and CIV 4 but I never played either of those games against a real person, and I enjoy playing them on the easier difficulties only.

Oh! I'm also really good at Risk, if there were anyone with the patience to play with me.

I finally found a job through the only temp agency that is worth a damn- the Legal Option Group. It's at a big fancy pants law firm with a beautiful 2 tower building in West LA. It pretty casual for a law firm and everyone I met there on my interview was nice to me. Seems like a nice place to work. The main perk, of course, is the pay rate. Only $14 per hour to start but if they hire me on permanently, the hourly rate should be considerably higher. And I'm pretty sure they won't keep me hanging like TPR did. And since I'll be working full time, maybe I'll be able to earn close what Igor did as a part time paralegal.

It is too fucking hot here. I keep cycling through hating LA and enjoying it and this heat is not helping getting me out of the hating it mindset. The weather forecasts say it will be cooler tomorrow. Only 90. Hah. Sad thing is, I'm hoping they're right. 90 is better than 100.

I expected to feel better once I got a job, and I do, but I still feel distressingly aimless and out of place here. I know 2 people in LA. My husband and my best friend's college boyfriend. My husband is almost rentlessly busy and my friend lives an hour away and has a full work schedule of his own. I miss Kathy and Caleb and Julie. I miss all of Igor's friends, who I saw Erika and Josh's wedding the weekend before last. I miss my parents, who just came down to visit and took me to Disneyland. I miss having people to accompany me on stupid errands and people to just go and hang out with. It's hard not to resent Igor for dragging me down here and then spending so little quality time with me. I'm counting on work to keep me tired enough so that I won't notice I've got nothing else going on in my life. SIGH 

What gift from a parent do you remember the most? 
Submitted by jorge456.  

That giant TV wedding present was pretty memorable

Clowns: delightful or terrifying?

Circus clowns: scary

Theatrical clowning: delightful (if done well. think of the three stooges, who are basically clowns)

What is the silliest thing you've ever spent more than $30 bucks on?
Submitted by Terri.

Hmm, probably an enormous feather boa ($60) from Camoflage in Santa Cruz. Then again, I made a lot of silly purchases in SC.

What are the 10 foods you must have in your refrigerator and/or your kitchen cabinet? 
Submitted by Carol.  

Espresso, chocolate silk soy milk, milk, bread, bagels, cream cheese, peach-orange-mango juice, chicken tenders, taquitos, eggs.

So there.