Facebook Fiend
My no good, Very Bad Date happened maybe a year and a half ago.
I’d met this guy through Facebook. I kind of have a thing against online dating, just because of the danger factor involved, but I figured we have mutual friends so why not?’
His name was Mayo. He was very adamant that I call him that right off the bat and I found it odd, but I agreed. We chatted on the phone for a few weeks and he seemed alright. There was one specific conversation we had that I remember clearly–it happened the night before we were to meet up. I’d arranged to meet at a friend’s house and I asked him what kind of car he would be driving. He told me either a huge white pick up truck or a really big motorcycle and I jokingly said that if I was a psychologist (I was thinking of majoring in it at the time) I’d say he was overcompensating for something. It took me a few seconds to realize that he was not laughing with me but instead deadly quiet. I asked him if everything was alright, and his voice took on a hauntingly empty tone of voice when he said I’d “find out soon enough.”
After ignoring the chill that rolled down my spine, I said I’d see him the next day and that I had to go.
So, the next day a huge (I’m talking massive) white truck rolls up and out hops this… short, stocky, very wide guy. Extremely short, and stocky, and wide. I’m talking 5’5 and 300 pounds maybe. Now, I’m a small girl myself (5’4) so although I was shocked I figured looks don’t matter, he seemed cool so I went it. And we had a generally good time that day so I invited him to hang out the next day.
The next day he showed up at my house two hours late and by then I didn’t feel like going out anymore, but by the looks of it he never intended to go out at all because he was wearing this tatty shirt and a pair of extremely dirty sweat pants. So bad I didn’t want him to sit on my couch with them. When he held up DVDs, my suspicion was confirmed that he’d planned a day in without my consent. So we sat on the couch and not even a minute into the movie he announced me that my sound system sucks, looked around, and asked, why I had such expensive stuff but a sucky sound system. I informed him that no one I live with really watches TV that much and he grunted. Five minutes later, he moved closer to me on the couch and slung his arm around my shoulder. Or tried to. His limbs were so short and heavy he just ended up cuffing me, but before I could focus on that pain, he grabbed my hair (a fistful) and started attacking my face, I was confused, and panicked, wondering how the hell I managed to find the one cannibal in GA when I realized that he was trying to kiss me.
He was all tongue and teeth and didn’t seem to care where my mouth was located. I pushed him off and rushed to the bathroom to wash my face and when I opened the door he was standing outside of it. I asked him what he wanted and he said he had to pee. I waved him into the bathroom as I passed, intending to tell him that he had to leave when he came out, but once inside the bathroom he didn’t close the door, instead looking at me expectantly. I asked what he wanted he asked,”Can you hold it?”
“Huh? Hold what?”
Looking at me as if I were the fool, he said, “Hold my penis while I pee.”
I stared. “What?”
“I’ve always wanted a girl to hold my penis while I pee, but everyone says no.” I didn’t answer, just leaned in and closed the door for him. Out in the hallway, my father passed (I was living with my parents at the time) and he was on the phone. My dad is French and has a very thick accent. Just then, Mayo walks out of the bathroom (without washing his hands) and he’s texting something but his head whips up when he hears my dad speaking and proceeds to say, practically drooling, “Your dad’s accent is hot.”
At this point I was flustered and shocked beyond belief so I grabbed my pack of cigarettes and went outside. He followed, telling me smoking is disgusting. I respond by telling him that he has to leave. He stared at me, the moon, and back at me. When he next spoke, his voice had that weird emptiness to it again.
“Want to see something?”
“No.”
“There’s something you should know about me.” he said. Transfixed, I watched as he pulled down his sweat pants and exposed himself to me. And in my head, I checked off “seen world’s smallest penis.” Because yes, Mayo decided that he needed to expose his vienna sausage penis to me, in the moonlight, in the middle of my parent’s garden.
I blurted out, horrified, “Why did you want to show me that??” I dropped my cigarette, and walked back into the house. He did and he watched, dumbfounded, as I packed up his stuff and then told him to leave. He asked what the hell I’m doing and I said, “Just shut up, John,” (his real name). He then started to go nuts. First he asked in a deadly calm voice who told me his real name. I told him that his damn email IS his full name and he called me a liar. I ignored him and continued to usher him out of my house as he ranted about me searching for his government name.
I was standing in the driveway, arms crossed, making sure that he leaves instead of exposing himself to the redheaded neighbor boy when he called me to his truck. I refused at first, but then he said he would not leave until he shared a secret with me. I rolled my eyes, walked over, and he leaned over, LICKED my face like a dog, and said that I should lose fifty pounds.
When I got back in the house, I washed my face AGAIN and, in a vain attempt to just forget this whole day, checked my email and Facebook. The first thing I saw is a status update from him, sent from his phone maybe 30 minutes before, about the time he was exiting my bathroom:
“Girls, would you be a good partner and hold your man’s penis while he pees?”
I shut the computer off and went to take a long hot shower.
It’s one of the best worst date stories ever, not to mention well written!
