by E. Tracy Coker.
After several weeks of searching through the internet dating site I subscribed to, “Carl” (whose name has been changed) sent me a little message saying hello; from his profile and the things he said, he seemed like a nice guy. After a few days of e-mailing and a single phone call, Carl asked me to meet him at a subway station for a first date.
I was looking forward to this date. Carl not only seemed enthusiastic to meet me, but he was intelligent and seemingly down to Earth, as well. The real test was going to see if he looked anything like his picture.
I was a college student looking for a stable and loving relationship. He was a college graduate staying in Boston to attend dental school with the desire of becoming a dentist and opening his own practice. I’m no gold digger, but what girl doesn’t love an ambitious suitor?
Standing outside of the subway entrance, I watched people passing by, anxiously wondering which one of them would be Carl; finally, he emerged. He was handsome, just the right height for me, and I could feel our chemistry click. What I relief! Or so I thought.
“Hello, how are you? It’s so good to finally meet you!” Carl said happily, holding both of my hands as he flashed his beautiful smile. “Shall we go have dinner?”
I agreed, and we chatted as we made our way to the restaurant; we were getting along just great. Our conversation had depth, but we were also developing a fun banter. We soon found ourselves in a delightful and somewhat posh restaurant with a cozy atmosphere and intimate setting. Our deeply enjoyable conversation only lulled when the waiter came to the table to introduce himself.
“And what can I get for you to drink?” the waiter asked.
“We’ll both have water,” my date piped up. I was taken aback; I didn’t tell him what I wanted to order.
“Excuse me,” I interjected to the waiter, “I’ll have a coke, please.”
“Soda is bad for your teeth!” Carl insisted. He then looked up at the waiter. “She’ll have a water, thank you.”
The waiter looked to me for my reaction: I was too stunned to protest, so he promptly turned away to fill our drinks. I began to voice my concern to Carl, but he masterfully changed the subject.
“So what do you think about going to check out that new Star Wars movie after this?” Carl asked, oblivious to my reaction. “Did you hear that R2D2 and C-3PO will be in this one?”
“No Way! How did they wind up in the new movies??” Being the eternal geek with ADD, my attention was quickly pulled from the disturbing drink order occurrence and I immediately decided to forgive and forget.
And for the rest of the meal, he behaved. He didn’t make any controlling comments about my meal, so I thought everything was fine. That was, until….
“And what will we be having for dessert?” the waiter encouragingly asked.
“None, thank you,” Carl said as he threw his napkin on the table. “We’re done for tonight.”
“How about you, miss?” the waiter asked me.
“Sure! Could I please have the chocolate mousse pie?”
“Of course! That’s the favorite choice of so many customers here.”
“Yes, the ones with tooth decay!” Carl butted in. “No dessert. I’ll take the check now, please.”
The waiter obeyed. Perhaps he thought I was Carl’s little sister? More like a dental patient being held hostage. But I didn’t complain- it would be rude when the other person is paying the check, and I decided that he may be on a budget but was too embarrassed to tell me or to even ask me to pick up half the bill. I understood being on a budget, and my naïve nature gave him the benefit of the doubt.
But there are some things that even a naïve nature can’t handle!
As we were walking towards the movie theaters, he affectionately grabbed me around the shoulders and held on tight- it was like a bear hug, but while we were walking! I could barely breathe.
“Oh Tracy, I have had such fun with you tonight! I am going to love you and hug you and take care of you forever!” he gleefully announced, loud enough for everyone else on the same street to hear.
I couldn’t even manage a “…what?” I just kind of looked at him funny, which seemed to encourage him.
“That’s right! You’re going to be my baby, and I’m going to take care of you and dress you and feed you and clothe you from now on! You’ll be so happy! You’ll never leave the house!”
By this time, I realized that the chance for reasoning with him had not only passed, but it may not have ever existed in the first place. I did what any sane woman would do: I lied.
“Oh my gosh!” I exclaimed, taking my mobile phone out of my pocket. “I missed my roommate’s phone call!”
“Oh?” he said, looking a little sad that something interrupted his joy.
“Yes! She was going to get some of her stuff from her…uh… abusive ex-boyfriend, but I was worried and told her to call me if something went wrong. She might be hurt! I have to leave immediately!”
“Are you sure?” he said. He looked so sad, like a puppy dog. I felt bad about what I was doing, bu that went away when I imagined what it would be like to have this man controlling me like some overgrown infant.
“Yes,” I said, looking into his eyes and trying to make it a good lie. “I really, really have to go.”
“Perhaps we can get together another time?”
“Sure! Just contact me through the dating site again!!” And with that, I was off. Down into the nearest subway station, looking behind my back to make sure I wasn’t followed.
Getting back into my dorm room sure felt good. My roommate was casually lounging on her bed, reading a book. She never had an abusive ex-boyfriend to deal with that night, of course.
“So how’d your date go?” she asked.
“I think I have a fear of dentists now,” was the only way I could think to describe it.
“That bad?”
“Yeah.”
Needless to say, I claimed that I’d found a boyfriend the next time Carl contacted me, which was a few days later. For a guy who voiced such strong commitments on the first date, he didn’t question my quick relationship status. And then I never heard from him again. Whew!
About the author: After a string of comedically tragic online dating experiences, Tracy finally found the right guy and has settled down with him. She still likes to laugh about those awful, yet funny times and looks forward to a life of more welcomed insanity with Mr. Right (who’s 19 years older than she is), two dysfunctional cats (one thinks she’s a flying wombat and the other thinks he’s a raccoon- and neither of them will stop running across the keyboard!!!) and a deviously smart dog. She works as a freelance writer while trying to pimp out her book/movie that’s kind of a weird sci-fi allegory of our present society, and she appreciates that you read her article.
