The Gull Cries Awkward

Alright, so for fear of offending the party I am about to describe, I held off on telling this story until I felt satisfied that I had detered him. I feel it is my duty as someone with a sense of humor to describe these events. So, without further ado: the worst date I have ever been on.

It started normally enough, met in the park by the lake, had my roommate and a friend accompany me to meet him, just to be safe, as I hardly knew this person. They promptly left after we stood around awkwardly, making small talk. I gave him two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, because we were supposed to have a picnic or something of that ilk, though I had already eaten. So he ate the aforementioned sandwiches, spilling jam all over himself. Lovely, right? I shouldn't complain, I am terrible at eating, I spill things on myself clumsily all the time. But I digress, consumed sandwiches. Then began complaining about belt, claiming it was too loose, which it was clearly not.

So we walked to the Olympia Supply Company, where he decided against buying the leather punch he had insisted on going there for. Thus, we meandered around the hardware store. If I had had any attraction to this man, this activity would have amused me, but we wandered around in the damned place for a good 45 minutes. I tried to make jokes about buckets-- come on, humor is hard to come by in a hardware store.

After this leisurely jaunt, we walked toward the lake, intending to go tour the capitol building. On our way, I spotted a dying seagull. Now, this is where it gets really interesting. I was upset about the seagull, and was going to go and lay it in the grass so that it could fade peacefully, but he insisted that would be cruel, that the cold water would kill it faster. I pouted. So he declared he would put it out of its misery, and grabbed a large stick. I cringed, protesting. Elderly onlookers scowled. He walked over to the ailing bird, took aim, and... SMACK! Hit the bird. It was a bit like playing baseball when I was a kid. One could never be sure exactly the result of the collison of ball and bat, or in this case, bird and bat, but one knew it would not be pleasant. The bird screeched, strike one, or was it a 'fowl'? He took aim again, concentrating, and... WHACK! I turned back toward the scene, shocked, the grey and white bird twitched, and moved no more, aside from swaying with the waves.

The stick was discarded, and we continued walking, my mouth still slightly agape. Had he really just ended a seagull on a date? Yes, yes he had. A combination of shock and intrigue compelled me to stick with it, thus we continued. I mean really, if I had bailed, I would have missed out on further comedy. So, we continued, toured the capitol building. I took a coloring book, he frowned at me, rolling his eyes, clearly he was too old for me. The date continued, we walked around, all my old haunts, joking awkwardly, ending up on the other side of town in a used furniture store. I found a delightful old electric keyboard with a bevy of colorful buttons with musical tastings ranging from foxtrot to, my favorite, teen beat. I amused myself with this device for a little while, while he continued toward the back of the store. Chairs were sampled, I climbed into a wardrobe, to which he shut the door with a sharp slam, and I protested from therein that it was not Narnia.

The furniture store was abandoned, after I had awkwardly called my voicemail in an attempt to fill conversational gaps. It began hailing, so we sat in the downtown transit center. He then informed me that he needed to move his car, as the meter had run out, so we walked back across town in the hail.

Car successfully moved, I sought refuge in my apartment, where my roommate and a friend were studying. He accompanied me, and we sat around thumbing through a 1960's Whole Earth catalogue. This went on far longer than I anticipated, and I began to get uncomfortable. He tried to tickle me at one point, my response being hitting him, as well as biting him (not a friendly bite, a 'mad dog' sort of chomp for freedom). He also attempted to kiss me. Seeing as he had killed a seagull in front of me, and the date had been a major flop, I don't see how he saw this working out for him. I turned my head, covered my lips with my hands, said no, and unintentionally laughed. I felt a twinge of guilt, but not enough to repent for the act. I then informed him that I had plans for the evening, which was a complete fabrication, but at least it got him out of my apartment.

So, the lesson learned from this? I hate dating, and cannot possibly take it seriously ever again.