Road Trip Nightmare
I was invited to an art show in Los Angeles, but I was down on my luck so I did not have a car. I explained this situation to the friend who shot me the invite. He offered to have a close friend of his, V, come to pick me up since my friend didn’t have a car either. I refused to go unless I got a chance to get to know this “friend.” I wrote V a quick message on MySpace asking for his phone number. Honestly, his profile looked very interesting. His picture was also quite appealing, although there was only one shot taken of him. The rest of his album featured a handful of his artwork. I was intrigued and looking forward to talking to this guy.
I dialed V and we really hit it off. I was relieved. He was incredibly funny and we had a lot in common. After two weeks of talking on the phone, I agreed to let him come pick me up. Our friendship had blossomed into a possible romance. I kept logging into MySpace to look at his attractive photo and fantasize. Instead of just being a ride to the show, I agreed that I would go on a date with him.
I dressed up for this ride. I put on some make up and an attractive outfit. I wanted to impress this very alluring man that was on his way. I remember sitting on my bed in my room tying up lose ends when the doorbell rang. My mom answered it for me. Suddenly I saw her running. She sprinted into my room with this horrified look on her face. “Do you want me to tell him to leave?” she asked. My mother has never reacted to one of my friends like this before, so I was very perplexed.
I walked to the door and V immediately ran inside and gave me a giant hug. He looked nothing at all like his MySpace photo. He was taller than me, but managed to look like he was three feet tall. He had stubby legs, long monkey arms, and looked like he was fifty-five years old. His hairline receded all the way to the back of his head, and his body was completely covered with two inches of bear hair. His face was almost cartoonish in proportion. I decided not to be shallow. Who cares about looks? (He didn’t have any.) I reminded myself that this was the super cool dude that I’ve been talking to for weeks. Why miss out on this and regret it?
Ten minutes after I climbed into his car, this guy reached over and tries to grab my crotch. This was in between telling me that I’m unattractive, and packing his glass pipe with pot. He informed me that he was disappointed that I’m nothing to look at. I pushed his hand away and demanded that he take me home. He apologized profusely, and promised he would not do it again. He thought since we had a connection on the phone that he was cleared for some action. I told him that next time he does this I will call the cops, report him, and get the hell out of his car. I told him that I DID agree to a DATE, but that doesn’t mean I’m down to pound with someone I don’t know, and I called the date off. He explained he was misinformed about our status and will treat us as just friends from this point on.
An hour later we stop at a small city on the way to the art show. Without telling me why, V parked by a restaurant, got out of the car, closed the door, and left me. Thinking that he just had to use the rest room, I just kept on sitting. I eventually gave up the wait and walked in. There he was at a table. A waitress walked over and gave him a plate of food. “Oh okay…nice,” I snapped. I sat down to chew him out when I was blind-sided by the most disgusting display I’ve ever witnessed. He was eating refried beans. He shoveled them into mouth, causing most of them to fall back out into his plate. The regurgitated beans were wet and slimy. He scooped those up, put them back into his mouth, and repeated the process. I got up and went back to the car, furious and grossed out. I was so angry that I got lied to. This guy not only looks like hammered a**, his personality is awful.
I can’t say we arrived at HIS house. Come to find out this thirty five year old man lives with Mom. His room reminded me of a dungeon. There were no windows and he slept on a dirty mattress in the corner. This room was filled with canvases and art supplies, and nothing else. Here he proceeded to inform me that I “look like a girl that doesn’t take care of herself.” Followed by: “You’re a whore.” He then wanted to sleep with me. He pulled his pants down to show me the goods. He lacked in that area as well. A black Amazon forest covered his whole two inches. He was pudgy and reminded me of some sort of Hollywood horror creature. I’m talking like this because the guy he pretended to be on the phone turned out to be a fraud and extremely cruel.
His mother came in. She didn’t introduce herself to me. She simply started yelling at him in Spanish. Apparently this guy refuses to work, and she is sick of paying for his ratty car. She freaked out because this monster has his pants around his ankles. Now I’m double the harlot to two different weirdos.
At this point I ran out of that house. I was stranded in San Dimas, California, and I did not care. I high tailed it down the street as fast as I could with the hopes of V not being able to find me. I called my mom, who drove from Las Vegas to get me. I blocked V’s number, his MySpace page, and his email address. I also did the same to the asshole who introduced me to him.