A Scary Moment

24 Aug

Dear Wanna-be Date-Rapist,

A friend decided to set up, thought we would be compatible.  I said I don’t do blind dates.  She gave me your e-mail address.  I held onto it for a number of months, until another friend of mine talked me into e-mailing you.  She asked me what do I have to lose?

What followed was a 6-month friendship on Yahoo Messenger.  Not an ideal way to get to know someone, but it worked.  I got to know somethings about you, you got to know somethings about me.  You started bringing up sex, which originally didn’t bother me.  I did let you know I don’t sleep with people on the first date.  You said you were just fine with that, it showed integrity.  I didn’t give it another thought.

Finally, I decided to meet you, after a couple of months of you asking me.  Against my better judgement, I said you could come and pick me up at my place.  I figured we knew enough about each other.  I almost cancelled that plan, but the mutual friend said you would be cool, you wouldn’t try anything.  So I went with the plan.

We discussed going out to dinner.  I am very rarely without my kids, and told you I would love an actual dinner…actual adult conversation.  You agreed, and plans were made.  I found myself growing excited.  I was finally going to put a face with the name…get to visualize all of our conversations.

The evening of the date I took my time dressing, making sure I wasn’t giving off any vibes I didn’t want to, but making sure I looked alluring.  I didn’t want to send you the wrong signals, but I wanted to look great.

There was a knock on my door, and I jumped up to answer.  When I opened the door, I was greeted with a sight I didn’t expect. You looked nothing like the picture I saw, which is ok.  But…you were not dressed for a night out on the town.  You were wearing a t-shirt with holes all over it, ratty shorts, and birkenstocks.  Ummm…

Me: Hey.  Are…we going to dinner?

You: Eventually.

Me: What?

You pushed me into my house and started kissing me.  I am a strong woman, but I had a hard time pushing you off of me.  I finally got myself seperated, after your wandering hands took a couple of squeezes on my ass and tits.  I, in a deathly quiet voice, told you I would call the cops if you didn’t leave.  You muttered under your breath about sexual chemistry.  I yelled that we have no sexual chemistry!  You put your birkenstocks on and walked to my door.  You paused, turned around, and said:

“Consider this foreplay.”

WHAT?  I was in shock.  It takes a lot to render me speechless, and you succeeded.  I stood there, with my mouth open, as the door closed behind you.  I started laughing hysterically.  I think it kept me from crying.  No one has ever treated me that way.  No one has ever done anything like that to me.  How was I supposed to react?  What made you think it was ok?  I wasn’t dressed seductively, I didn’t say “Come over for a fuck”, I gave you no notion that I was going to sleep with you after dinner.  I don’t understand it.

You repeatedly e-mailed me, IMed me, asking why I haven’t called or written back.  You wanted to know if I didn’t think you were good enough.  Excuse me?  I ignored each of your messages, and blocked you on Yahoo.  In your last e-mail, you called me “weak” and “lame”.  I am weak and lame?  Apparently the only way you can get laid is if you date-rape someone.  In what kind of home did you grow up in where what you did is OK?  How can you look at yourself in the mirror every morning?  How is it you have the audacity to call me lame?

Go fuck yourself.

Love, Esme

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One Response to “A Scary Moment”

Trackbacks/Pingbacks

  1. Confessions « Love, Esme - August 29, 2012

    […] pinpointed.  I wrote about some of the more interesting dates (8 kids, anyone?), the scary dates (like when I was almost date-raped), and the two failed relationships I should have NEVER gotten myself into (just click on the […]

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