I was 17 and A was 23. We met at a salsa club in my hometown, and soon after, I moved halfway across the country to go to college. We stayed in contact via very frequent texting, and fell for each other, to the point that he told me he loved me.

So I was overjoyed when he said he was flying out to see me and take me dancing for my 18th birthday. The night started out great. He picked me up, looking swanky, and we headed out to a salsa club. He was so happy to see me again that he turned to me while driving and asked, “Will you marry me?” Assuming he was kidding, I replied “of course!”

Unfortunately, he managed to get lost within about five minutes despite having a GPS. Before long, we were bickering like an old married couple about how to get there. Eventually we found the place, but our potentially wonderful night of dancing was ruined by the fact that the club was a over-21 place, and despite A’s sweet-talking the bouncers in Spanish, they wouldn’t let me in.

We went to a restaurant/bar in the neighborhood instead. For some reason, he called an old friend of his to meet us, and soon this woman in her late 20s joined us. She looked surprised to see me there as well, and even more so when A kept making romantic gestures towards me. She must not have known that she was coming along on my birthday date! The next hour or so was very awkward. She and I drank sodas while he had a mojito, and we tried to force natural conversation. She kept shooting me pitying looks as A began to talk louder and gesture more wildly. I was confused until I realized that he was completely drunk, after one mojito!

The other girl left, looking happy to get out of there, and I had to support A back to the car. It’s a good thing I knew where we left it because he certainly didn’t. We couldn’t go anywhere because he was drunk and I didn’t have my driver’s license, so we started kissing and fooling around a little bit. He spoke to me in Spanish, his native language, and asked me to speak to him in French. I said a few words, and lo and behold, he came in his pants! I hadn’t even touched him, it was just the French that did it.

The last thing he said to me before falling asleep was how glad he was that we were getting married. Apparently his offhand comment in the car earlier, the one I had taken as a joke, had been a real proposal! On my 18th birthday! I left him, taking the metro home, and sent him a text for him to wake up to. I also firm broke off the accidental engagement.

I don’t mind eccentric guys, but A was extreme.

I met him at a party, and while I wasn’t extremely attracted to him, after ignoring three emails I felt bad and agreed to lunch. He was an intelligent guy, but as he was 5’4″ and socially awkward, his brains were about all he had going for him. I realized that this was especially when his oddities came out.

He couldn’t sit still in his chair. He told me that the only things he’s willing to eat, ever, are pizza and ice cream. When I mentioned that I liked traditional Russian dance, he immediately got out of his chair and began to do the barynya in the middle of the restaurant. He told me all about his romantic adventures with a “furry,” much past the point of too much information. Also anything I said, he could relate back to the Holocaust. This made things tense throughout the whole conversation. What do you say when someone twists your innocent comment into a Holocaust reference?

The final straw came when he completely out of the blue said, “Did you know that rape is technically defined as penetration of any orifice without permission?” Before I could respond, he reached across the table, stuck his finger up my nose, and said, “I just raped you!”

Eccentricity is one thing, but the gleeful nose-rape is another. I got through the rest of the date and insisted I could get home by myself on the metro. Of course, afterwards, he wouldn’t stop texting me. I finally told him it wasn’t going to work out. He texted back that he understood, which made me think maybe I was not the first girl to feel this way!

I’m not sure why I decided to go out with this guy again after he told me I had “man hands” on our first date (while he was holding them), then proceeded to mention that he “could keep both of his hands warm with one of mine” (I think he was trying to turn me on). We split an appetizer (instead of ordering dinner) while he flirted with the waitress all night. I decided to blow him off, but as as the week passed he wore down my resistance and I decided  to give it another shot. The second date was far worse. I met up with him at a restaurant and he greeted me with “You’re late,”  proceeded to order himself dinner and asked me if I wanted a drink (lucky me). He was wearing extremely tight white pants and a tight white shirt in January. He proceeded to tell me, with food falling out of his mouth, that I had something on my face and I should go check it out in the bathroom. I got up to leave and when I came back, found that he had drank my entire drink .

So we left and I said bye to my two friends that worked there and we were walking away and he said, “Oh man they are so cute. Don’t you just want to bring them with us?” So we got to the next bar and he ordered us both drinks, then started salsa dancing to rap music (we were the only ones dancing) and he kept lifting my “man”hands above his head and twirling beneath them like a ballerina. I went to grab something out of my purse and turned around to find him chugging another drink of mine. So I tried to figure out a way to get out of the rest of the evening and said, “Well I gotta meet up with my friends to dance,” but he insisted on tagging along. We got to our final destination and I asked him if he wanted anything. I bought two drinks, gave him one and set mine down and start talking to my friends while he continued to make a fool of himself on the dance floor. He drank his drink, started grinding on another girl and picked up my drink. Finally, I said, “Hey that’s mine!!” He stayed with the girl the rest of the evening and end up getting her number in front of me, so I finally snuck out .

The next day he texted me, “I’m sorry if you were offended by me hitting on that girl, but you seemed more interested in talking to your friends than dancing with me.” Fair enough.