Just when you thought it was safe to go back into the dating pool…
Guest Blogger Mara returns with another terrifying tale, reminding us that while there’s plenty of fish in the sea - be careful what you catch.
Last night, I went out to celebrate one of my friend’s birthdays. Since we chose a low-key bar rather than the typical nightclub where the tools in deep V-necks dwell, I was excited to see we’d stumbled into some kind of non-douche safe zone…where the beer and normal guys roam.
After ordering our drinks, we felt even more hopeful about our prospects when we noticed three cute gentlemen sitting in a booth across from ours. And one kept glancing my way. He was tall, dark and wearing a sweater. Maybe this could this be Prince Charming!
My friend also noticed him giving me the eye and offered to wave the guys over to join our table. I told her to wait to see if they came to meet us first and then I went to the washroom to freshen up. Now, this particular bar, for some strange reason, has a mirror in the men’s room but not the women’s room! Rude!
I was primping in the men’s room mirror when Mr. Sweater popped his head in and asked, “Are you okay in there?” I said, “Oh! Sorry! We don’t have a mirror in the girl’s washroom!” He said, “You don’t need a mirror, you look beautiful.” Okay, I’ll admit it, I was hooked. We introduced ourselves (let’s call him “John” since that is where we met), exchanged some witty banter and chatted about where we were from. Despite that it was a strange location for a first meeting, he came across as classy, sweet – like he had a good head on his shoulders. At the end of our mini-convo, he cutely quipped, “Throw me a little wink if you want to meet in the back room again.”
A couple hours and several glances from him later, my girlfriend, with her newfound liquid courage, waved the guys over to our table. But they politely declined. It seemed like they were in a pretty intense conversation over there so I left it at that. A little bit later, at around 1:00am, John winked at me. I attempted to wink back, but ended up blinking both eyes simultaneously in an oh-not-so-sexy way. Not sure what signal that sent but I’m sure it was the wrong one. But to my surprise, he got up and walked towards the back…I was thrilled! He wants to continue our adorable witty banter!
Once I got back there, the men’s room door was closed. I wasn’t sure if our wink repartee had gotten lost in translation but I actually did have to go to the washroom so I went into the ladies. As I was closing the door, John’s arm came in and pulled me out. The exit to the back parking lot was located right across from the ladies room. John started fiddling with the locks and I asked, “What are you doing?” and he said, “Follow me.” So, I went outside and he pulled me around into a dark little corner by the garbage bin and said, “Just don’t say anything. Be cool.” I said “What?? What??” From the look in his eyes, I thought I’d just stumbled into some kind of crack deal. He repeated, “Just be cool and don’t tell anyone.” I responded with, “I’m not really sure what’s going on.” Then he said, “Well, do you want to go to my place? It’s down the street.” I said, “Oh! No. No, no, no. I think there’s been some miscommunication here.” He said, “It’s cool. Just be cool and don’t say anything” and tried to pull me a bit closer. I’m not sure why this popped out of my mouth but I then said, “Wait…do you have a girlfriend?” He got a deer-in-headlights look in his eye, pushed me away and said, “What? What does that matter?” (No wonder they declined my friend’s offer to merge tables! He has a girlfriend!!) I said, “Oh no. I don’t think…I’m sorry…but…[stutter stutter stutter]”. To which he replied, “Why are you making this complicated? I live right down the street?” I said, “Oh no. I’m sorry.” He replied in a disgusted tone, “You just made this really complicated. Just be cool. Don’t say anything.” I said, “No, sorry. I am going to go back inside.” He said “Fine. I’m going to walk around the front. Just be cool and don’t say anything.” So, I turned around to go back inside…and I got locked out! I had to call my girlfriend to come to the back and let me in.
I was mortified. I genuinely thought we would go back and talk some more…I didn’t get a creeper vibe from this guy at all! How could my Douchedar fail me so badly? I was really bummed. I thought about his girlfriend…she’s probably at home thinking, “Oh my sweet, handsome argyle-wearing boyfriend is just grabbing drinks at a dive bar with a couple friends.” I say I want a boyfriend but not if this is what happens when you get one.
When I told my girlfriend what happened, she responded with, “I am really sorry that happened to you, Mara. But, you did wink at him. You kind of gave him mixed signals.” I felt betrayed by my instincts but all signs on the “Douche-O-Meter” pointed to zero. Maybe it was the sweater talking, but he seemed so nice, so normal. I couldn’t help but wonder…I call guys “douches” because all they want to do is hookup. But, on the flipside, what do they think of us? Do they think we’re “douches” (or the female equivalent) because we want a relationship?
This morning, I called my best gay to divulge the story and he was mortified that my girlfriend would tell me that any of what happened was my fault. He exclaimed, “A flirty wink is not code for I want to f*#@ you in the alley!!!” I concur.
Moral of the story: Beware of wolves (douches) in sheep’s clothing (sweaters).