Sometimes I think my life is funny.

Sunday, January 19, 2014

That Time I Went on Date (or two) with a Predator

On Friday I received a message from a guy who said he was from NYC, was only in town for a week, and wanted me to show him around. I told him I am a terrible tour guide and thought that would end it. He decided he wasn't going to stop there, so he told me he read my blog (yes this one) and wanted to take me out.

Wait a minute. You read my blog which is basically just me ranting about my dates and you still want to take me out? That’s pretty brave. So I agreed.

I was supposed to meet him at a restaurant on South Beach, but when I got close I realized there was an art festival going on and Post Cereal had a tent. Clearly cereal is more important than date punctuality, so I went and got samples of free cereal. I discovered a cereal called Mini Cinnamon Churros and it’s amazing. Since I’m an incredibly nice person I brought my date a cup of cereal to the restaurant (yes, I am that classy).

When I met him the first thing I thought was “Holy shit Stephanie, did you check his age before you said yes to this?” I didn't. I just assume that no one over 35 would ever ask me out because I’m completely out of their age range. I was wrong. When I got a chance to sneak a look at my phone I checked his profile and SURPRISE he’s 47. What? Why did you ask me out? You’re seriously 4 years younger than my mom (ps. don’t tell my mom I published her age online).

He talked a lot and we had nothing in common. Oh, you’re a vegan? I eat cheeseburgers at least 3 times a week. Oh, you love jazz? Yeah, that would go great with my collection of Justin Beiber CDs. Oh, you read the New Yorker? I read Mr. Poppers Penguins.

After dinner I thought I’d be free to go, but he insisted I needed to try port wine and we needed to find a bar that serves it. Alright, that won’t hurt right? So we find a place that has a 20 year old port and a 40 year old port. I tell him “I should get the 20 and you should get the 40. The 20 will be sweeter and better anyway.” He did not get my joke (or any other witty comments I made throughout the night).

Finally, when we’re on our way back at the end of the night he says “Oh, isn’t it funny that I got the 40 and I’m in my 40’s and you got the 20 and you’re in your twenties?” I reply, “Isn’t it funny that I made that joke 3 hours ago and you’re just getting it now?” Work with me here old man!

Then he asks me, “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Ugh. Really?

“I’m studying, and then going to event to raise 10,000lbs of food for needy people in Miami.”

He asks me out, I say no. He insists I must be able to take a break at some point. He kept pushing and I felt bad because earlier he said having dinner with me was better than spending the night alone reading, so I agreed to have dessert with him if he came to my neighborhood the next night. What can I say, I’m a sucker.

The next night (last night) I went to a barbecue with my church friends for the food drive.

(Side note – Boy Scout from NYE was at the barbecue and I received confirmation that he is indeed straight. He’s the kind of straight guy who needs to be coached through sexual encounters and then clings to you like a puppy afterwards. Damn. I really missed out on that one!)

Anyway, when I told my friends I had to go because I had a date they said they couldn’t wait until they could read about it on my blog. I felt bad because I didn’t think this guy deserved to be ripped apart by me just because he’s old and nerdy.

I told my friends that the situation with this guy was great because he’s only in town for a few days, so I could hang out with him and have dinner without him ever having any expectations from me. Okay, that’s a lie, I said it in a much classier way - I think my exact words were “it’s great! He’s only in town for a few days so I get free food and there’s no way he can expect me to sleep with him!” (because I apparently live in a fantasy world where guys would never imagine they could sleep with a girl that they haven’t even known for a week, much less two days).

Spoiler alert: My fantasy world crashed and burned last night.

So I left the barbecue and met this guy at a coffee shop at 8:30pm.  He told me he wanted to eat dessert and play scrabble so I thought this would be a great place, but he insisted we could not eat dessert there and we needed to go to a nice restaurant. Umm. Okay?

We walk down Miracle Mile looking for something to suit his dessert needs and we see a fundraiser to cure paralysis with food trucks.

“We should go here!” he says.

“No. We’re not going to an event to cure paralysis and make people walk. That’s really offensive. Would you go to an event to cure blackness to make black people white?” I reply.

“Well, I was thinking if that was a junior Nazi event I’d still go. If it has good food that’s all that matters.”


“No. That’s not okay.” I tell him.

Finally we find a place where he is willing to eat dessert. We order and start playing scrabble. He kept trying to convince me to get wine but I told him I had an early morning the next day so I wasn’t going to drink and I needed to leave by 11pm. He kept insisting, I kept saying no.

As we were playing I asked him how his day was. He told me he spent the day at the beach. Then he said “I saw a topless woman!” and proceeded to go into detail about her toplessness. Well that’s just lovely.

After we had dessert we were still playing – probably because he’s the slowest player in the world and would take at least 10 minutes to play a word every fucking time. I was getting rather impatient. I told him to hurry up but he said he needed time.

“You only have seven letters. If you can’t think of a word in ten minutes then you’re never going to think of one, just play something!” I kindly demanded.

“Do you want another dessert?” he asked.

“Okay.” I agreed because at least that would keep me busy as he took an eternity every turn.

“We could take it back to your place and finish the game there” he said.


“No. But we can finish the game here if you want,” I told him thinking he was a creep as I impatiently waited to play the word “zit” on a triple word score to get mucho points.

“Why not?” he asked.


“Because I have an early morning and I don’t think you’ll leave if I let you in, plus my apartment is dirty.” I told him even though I didn’t need to give him a reason.

“Are you feeling dirty tonight?” he asks.

I have been told by many people that I have a very expressive face, so I can only imagine that this is the look that was on my face at that moment:

“No. But my apartment is.” I told him firmly.

“You didn’t clean up thinking that I might come over?” The creep wouldn’t let up.

“No. I didn’t. I knew I wasn’t going to invite you over. I know before I leave the house if I would invite someone in later and I would never invite someone in that I have barely known for a day.” I told him.

He wouldn’t let up and kept pushing.

“I don’t give into peer pressure,” I said waiting for him to give it up and just play a fucking word.

“But I’m not your peer, I’m older than you,” he told me as if I didn’t already know.

“I don’t give into old man pressure either,” I replied “and just so you know, since you are an old man that just makes you a predator.”

“I know I’m a predator. I’ve come to terms with it” he said nonchalantly.


That’s like being a pedophile and, instead of trying to stop, just accepting that you’re a disgusting creep and acting on it.


“Can you just play a word? I would have left by now because you’re a major creep, but I want to win so can you just play?” I told him as I fiddled the Z, I, and T in my hand.

He finally played and I ordered more dessert because at that point I figured fuck it – he might as well pay for me to have more dessert while I own him in scrabble. What do I care?

I then go to play the word “Camel” on another triple word score and as I place the letters down one by one he thought I was playing “came.”

“No, camel” I said as I placed down the L.

“Came is a much better word” the predator responded.


Then he asks “is ‘V E’ a word?”

“No,” I told him. “It’s a contraction.”

“Like if you were pregnant and having contractions?” the creep replied with an extra creepy smile.


“No, like the word ‘we’ve’ the ‘V E’ after the apostrophe is a contraction,” I sternly corrected him.

Finally we finished the game and I won.

Evidence that I won. 
“I’m going now. Bye.” I told him as I left him sitting at the table waiting for the check.

Then I booked it home and locked my door behind me as soon as I got in my apartment.  

 Abridged Version:

I accidentally went on a date with an old man from out of town. I felt bad because he was an old, nerdy, and lonely, so I agreed to go on another date with him. On the second date he asked me if I was "feeling dirty" and tried to pressure me to bring me back to my apartment. I called him a predator, beat his ass in Scrabble, and then left his ass at the restaurant. I also ran home and locked my door.

Lessons Learned:

1. Always check to see the age of your date before agreeing to said date.
2.  Lonely old men are sometimes lonely for a very good reason.
3.  My fantasy world is not real.
4.   I need to start locking my door every night now. 

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