Tag: heart

Kiki looks into escape artists

At 24, Tinder wasn’t around yet, but MySpace served its purpose by introducing us to people we might never have met otherwise—acting as a crude dating app before dating apps were even a thing.

John “slid into my DMs” (as we’d say now) and started messaging me. He was incredibly attractive and had two different colored eyes. He also had sparrow tattoos, which in hindsight was a sure sign things were going to go south, but I was young thought they were the coolest. After exchanging several messages, we realized we lived in the same city. Since MySpace didn’t have location services back then, finding someone in the same area code was never a guarantee.

We decided to meet in person at a local bar. Because I didn’t have a cell phone yet, location sharing with friends wasn’t an option; just taking my life into my own hands and hoping for the best.

When I arrived, John was just as good-looking as his photos, but he was a talker. For two and a half hours straight, he droned on and on. I honestly couldn’t tell you what he talked about because it was years ago and I’m certain I dissociated several times while he spoke. Occasionally, he’d realize he was dominating the conversation and try to ask me a question, but the moment I started to answer, it reminded him of something else about himself; so he’d interrupt and go right back to talking.

By hour three, I was done. I excused myself to the restroom. I was too young to know it was okay to just leave a date someone a date plus we were sitting too close to the exit for me to sneak past him unnoticed.

I had only one option: I literally climbed out of the bathroom window. As I’m telling this story, I realize I must have spent a significant portion of my 20s climbing out of windows into back alleys.**

It was a tight squeeze, but it was still better than the alternative of walking back to that table.

** shout out to the alleged drug dealer who taught me to jump out windows though

Kiki looks into dating… that’s it just trying to date

Dating as a broken person is daunting. Not only are the dates often ridiculous, but I have less patience than I used to. I’m tired in a way that doesn’t show on dating profiles, and that exhaustion makes everything feel like tiny paper cuts on my soul: painful for such innocuous marks. 

Recently, I went on a date with a man who turned out to have very, very different views from mine, though none of that came out until we were already face to face.

Don’s profile wasn’t sketchy. There were no obvious red flags or clues suggesting he’d turn out to be an absolute a-hole. Did he have of a “bro” vibe, sure; but, was he also from the East Coast, yes- which is why this didn’t quite line up. When we messaged on the app, things flowed easily enough that we exchanged numbers quickly and texted as if we had been good friends for a while and still nothing alarming came up.

There was one small thing we didn’t agree on, musical artists, but it seemed harmless at the time. Just one of those hmmmm differences I file away and move on from. I didn’t know then that it would end up meaning more.

The day of the date, we met for ice cream and decided to walk around the cute downtown area nearby. It should’ve been easy. Casual. Like I said above two old friends catching up seeing if there might be more. Instead, he decided this was the perfect moment to unload all of his strange relationship predilections. I told him it was too early for that kind of conversation, but he kept pushing. Each comment edged a little closer to subjects I’d asked to be avoided, until I finally had to change the conversation altogether.

At the time, I wondered if I was just annoyed at being out with someone new, someone who wasn’t my ex. This was one of my first dates since the “breakup,” for lack of a better word. Was this actually weird behavior, or , was I just projecting my sadness? It was hard to tell.

But as he kept talking and then mocking me I realized I wasn’t wrong at all. It was in fact intentional, inappropriate border line foul behavior. He was openly supportive of current policies supporting everything I abhor and he wouldn’t let it go. He just kept pushing. At one point we tipped into the absolute abhorrent and very much engaged in an actual shouting match about language, current events, and yes musical artists. 

I think my anger and the urge to absolutely demolish a man with all the rage I’d bottled up during my relationship kept me rooted there, shouting back. The fact that we didn’t physically tussle was honestly surprising. But the moment I realized I was on the verge of a fist fight with a grown man, I snapped back to reality: I have a pace maker now and can’t be swinging but there was a time. 

I shoved my chair back and stormed off. It would be another month before I considered going on a date.