Sunday, March 22, 2009

Last Night's Blind Date

You read that right. I went on a double blind date last night. My wife actually knew the woman a bit so it wasn't entirely blind.

Here's the deal. Last May we went to Mexico. On the last day, while I was getting a massage, my wife was talking to a couple by the pool. We both returned to our house at the same time and as we sat out on the back porch smoking, she starts telling me how this woman came over and asked if I was Floogin McNoogin. She said I was and she asked how this woman knew me. She said this woman told her that her roommate from college married my roommate and several of her friends dated me and my friends and a few of my friends wound up marrying her friends. She said we hung out in the hamptons, at a few weddings etc.

So, she's telling me this story and I ask my wife if the creepy couple that is staring at us from across the pond would be them. She said it was. I told her how they were always staring at our back porch. I told her they were creepy.

They started waving.

My wife asked if I could see their faces. They were too far to see so I couldn't say if I recognized her.

So, we go out for dinner and, upon our return, we're getting a cart ride back to our house and we run into them, stumbling home from their dinner. The chick is shouting my name. Calling for my wife as well. So we have the driver stop the cart and we talk to them. She's asking how I am, how's my sister, do I speak to this guy? How's that guy? What happened to him, her etc. We talk for about 15 minutes and then we tell them we need to go pack, we're leaving in the morning.

We get back in the cart, head back towards our house and my wife asks if I remember her.

Nope. No clue who she is.

But she knows all my college friends and she knows me. She knows the girl I was screwing when I met my wife. (side note, I was not dating her exclusively, I was seeing two girls, both named Pam, very convenient and I went to a charity event, met my wife and severed ties with the pams the next morning).

Anyway, she knows me, I know nothing about her. Not the first time this has happened.

The next morning, we're checking out and there's an envelope for us with a 4 page letter from this girl. She gives us her info and tells us to keep in touch and blah blah blah.

My wife leaves a return note.

We hear from her the first week back. She wants to get together for dinner. We're fairly booked up so my wife makes plans with them at an impossible to get restaurant - she used her connection to lure us into dinner. We wound up cancelling for some reason.

And so we booked and cancelled for months, all real reasons but, the truth is, we don't really want to go. She emails my wife 3 to 5 times a week. We have enough friends. Still, my wife finally caves and books again.

So, last night was the dinner. I didn't even know what they looked like. I barely remember the 15 minute conversation 10 months ago. I have no clue what her husband's name is. The only thing I remember is that they were sloppy drunks that night and that they were not that bright and were a bit rough around the edges. I remember thinking they were better suited to hang out with my younger sister and her husband.

I'm exhausted, I'm not getting any sleep these days and the last thing I want to do is dine out with complete strangers who, for some fucked up reason, really want to be our friends. We're not cool, we're not famous, we're really nothing special. A total fucking mystery and I'm being forced to do this. And what the fuck am I going to talk about with this guy? Am I going to ask how he's been when I don't know how he was? I could care less about the kids or work because I don't know them and I don't know what he does.

So, I started wondering, what if these sickos want to swing? What if if they're the kind of sexual deviant that wants to watch another couple fuck their spouses? What if he wants to fuck me?

So, with the help of a friend, I devised a plan to fall ill should the evening go wrong. I also planned a variety of ways to upset them, ensuring we never have to do this again.

We go to the restaurant and walk in and we're standing there, looking around, like some singles looking for their internet friend, unsure what they look like since our image was devised after hearing their self description and seeing a photo that might have been torn from a catalogue 25 years ago. And then we hear our names. Oh, shit, they' right in front of us. "Bad on us, it's been so long, you look great blah blah blah"

We sit and order drinks and start talking about whatever. Suddenly, Bethany from Housewives of NYC comes in. She lived with the girl for a while. Bethany claims to not remember her. Bethany looks like one of those big eyed, long eared mice. She's an ugly little rodent of a woman. She seems to think she is rather famous and she acts like we're fans.

I put an end to that with my reminding her that she had a huge crush on a friend of mine and she guzzled a bottle of cough syrup before she went home and fucked him on their first date and how even he, a guy who sticks a spoon under his balls and sniffs it, not to see if he stinks but, rather, because he digs the smell, found her to be a freakshow.

The rest of the meal, our lady friend is up in arms over this non-celebrity snubbing her. She tells us how she almost had her own tv show and how she could have been a big star as a result and blah blah fucking blah shut up already.

The husband must have mentioned that he was legal counsil for a publicly traded company a hundred times. I never asked the name of the company. I don't care. I have friends who do that, did that. Big fucking deal. They ask the inevitable do you know madoff victims question and he starts spewing his thoughts on the subject. I start refuting some of his thoughts and he's asking me how I could say this or that, how would I know these things. So, I tell him. I've got clients, I've been dealing with these things for ten years, I know former employees etc. Shuts him up fairly quick.

By dessert I've learned that he's an expert on the atkins diet as well as almost everything else. I learn that he went on a $17,000 a week (per person) cruise. That he has 6 vacations booked for the year. That he blogs about vacationing, wine, restaurants and hotels. He sounds like he might be gay. (not that there's anything wrong with that).

I order a coffee with a shot of sambuca. I pour the sambuca into the coffee and pray that this drink does what the other 4 didn't do, make him shut up.

And then he tells me that all the alcohol I drank negates the no carb meal.

Excuse me?

And he starts lecturing me on atkins and no carbs. I sit there, letting this moron go. And he goes. On and on about this that and the other thing.

When he pauses I say sugar alcohol, not the same as sugar. He says they're still carbs I say, yes, they are but they have no impact. They are not going to screw up the ketosis or create any reversal of the no carb program.

He asks me where I heard this.

So I tell him.

I tell him how much I lost doing this. How I've been living this way for 7 years. I tell him that I think I know my atkins diet. I want to tell him to shut the fuck up but I don't. I drink some more laced coffee and ponder the bathroom and the upset stomach excuse that was invented to get me out of this situation.

And then he moves in closer, shifting his seat around, to tell me something and holy shit, what the fuck, is this guy's foot touching me?

Now, I know that this was all merely a coincidence but the discussion I had early in the day planted the worst seeds in my little brain and now, several drinks into the evening, I'm seeing an accidental bump as a cock grabbing play for hot swinger sex.

I turn to my wife and whisper, I'm going to the bathroom, start the exit discussion, it's late and this guy wants to fuck me, or you or both of us and I'm not doing that.

She looks at me like I've lost my mind.

I head to the bathroom and when I return everyone is by the bar. Seems my wife thinks I'm puking so she managed to bring on the goodbyes.

In the cab ride home I explained that he wanted to fuck one of us and thank you for getting us out of there and she thinks I'm insane and then she says "he wasn't bad looking. We should go out with them again, it was fun."

What the fuck? Did she not understand me? Does she not care? Does she want to have some creepy sex romp with these weirdos who seemed to want to tell us how much everything cost and all the famous people they've met? I can't do the swinger thing. It's not me. I wouldn't know what to do. I'd ball my hands up into fists like soccer players do to. A subconscious attempt to not touch ball or, in this case, balls.

Besides, I don't have the wardrobe for a swinger and I am certainly not going to buy banana hammock underwear.


Someone You Don't Know said...

Why does this kind of thing never happen to me?
A subway bust up and an almost invitation from a swinger?

If i was to recall a story even remotely like this...i would have to delve back to when i was 17 and almost became a high class hooker.

I want to be you. I want to live your life. Apart from the whole working thing, cos that sounds really hard.

But i definitely want to be approached by would-be swingers who want to fuck me. Whatever sex they may be.

Anonymous said...

all i can say is WOW!
and I agree about Bethany.
And here I thought the best sexually deviant story in my world was the guy who asked me to send him my underwear.

Floogin McNoogin said...

I'm fairly sure I imagined the want to fuck me part. My drunken paranoia took over.

You can, however, be me for a day. Bring cash. It ain't cheap.

Floogin McNoogin said...

What was he planning on doing with them? Did you?

Someone You Don't Know said...

I don't care what it costs. Just to live a life less ordinary for a while.

One can dream. Dreams don't cost anything.

Did you get the hundred dollars from Google yet?

Can i stop clicking now?

Floogin McNoogin said...

Clicking the links is like applauding me for a good post or sending me sympathy when something shitty happens.

Besides, I think the McNoogin clan are trying to bankrupt me.

Laura said...

You have to be kidding? True or not you are a good story teller.

And one good click deserves another..hint hint.

Anonymous said...

Do you REALLY think I sent someone my underwear?
If somebody wants it, they can remove it for real, then keep as a souvenir.

Someone You Don't Know said...

I feel constant sympathy for you.

I always click the ads anyway.

Most of the time....when i remember.

Floogin McNoogin said...

why do I get the feeling that wasn't a nice kind of sympathy?

Someone You Don't Know said...

No, it was the nice kind.

I'm a nice person, i wouldn't offer anything other than the best kind of sympathy.

I'm being totally sincere. And serious.

Trenton said...

Could've just been honest when they asked, and told them that you're far too busy to engage in yet another relationship that isn't going to go anywhere.

I'm one of those brash people that'll tell you like it is, whether you like it or not. Quite honestly, I couldn't give a shit less if someone doesn't like what I think about something, as we're all entitled to an opinion. And we all know what they say about those, haha!

Trent :D