The Finisher

The worst of the worst. I've entered this story into every "Worst First Date" competition among friends and it hasn't lost yet. It's that terrible.


I had been talking to this guy from match.com whose name was Rob. In one of the emails he sent me, he signed it "Love, Rob." As a commitaphobic, I immediately emailed my friends and they said to calm down and give him a chance. Furthermore, I shouldn't shoot someone down for something so small.

He and I decided to hang out on a Monday. The catch was, he was coming from an internship and from class so therefore he had "an odd request." He wanted to SHOWER AT MY HOUSE. First-time I met him. But...I heeded my friends' advice and just rolled with it since they thought I was being too picky. Here are the highlights of date-night:

• before he arrived, I had a sudden panic attack, drank an entire bottle of wine, and thought, "Omigod...there's a strange man coming into my apartment and he could be a killer. I should prepare and be safe. So I stashed my MACE (thank you, Dad) in a blanket on my couch (after spraying it in my kitchen sink to see if it really worked. It did. And I don't have windows above my sink, so the spray kind of ricocheted back and choked me). After stashing the MACE, it was only natural to stash my BUTCHER KNIFE under the pillow in my bedroom.
• didn't shower at my house thankfully
• less beefy than I had pictured, yet still had early signs of man boobs
• I wish I could describe his voice. Kind of dopey and nasal-y. As soon as I heard that, I thought, "Game over, buddy."
• So he shows up and we go to Pizzeria Uno. Dinner was good. Conversation was easy, I was hilarious, as usual. After I polished of the bottle of wine pre-date, I continued with sangria at dinner. BAD IDEA.
• We get back to my house and I feel guilty knowing he has to drive a long distance. So I say, "So...you wanna....watch a movie or something?" I know this now, but at the time, I did not realize that asking him to watch a movie insinuated he'd be getting into my pants later. We end up watching "Fight Club" together on my loveseat. Then he makes the Big Move and we do some kissing.
• After the movie, I went to put my shoes on and walk him out and BAM starts in with the kissing again. I'm feeling the wine, sangria, and margaritas (which I had back at my house) so I go with the flow.
• THEN we end up on my bed and he discovers the butcher knife I have stashed under my pillow. Awkwardness ensues.
• I start falling asleep and he keeps on...keeping on. I'm half awake, half drunk, and getting groped by what feels like a high school boy.

AND THE BIG FINALE...
It's 3:30 a.m. and he asks if he should stay or go. Then he says, "It's just that..y'know...my mom is probably wondering where I am." Did you just bring your mom into my bedroom? Indeed. He decides he's going to leave. But before he does, he asks, "Really weird question, but I need to ask. I kind of got into the moment there and I was wondering if I could use your bathroom to...uh...'finish'."

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAT? I pretend I'm sleeping just so he leaves and he keeps rephrasing the question. I'm thinking, "Good GOD...whatever...this is SO GROSS. Just do it and get the F out!" Eventually he does but not before coming back to my bed, spooning me and whispering into my ear, "how he had such a great night and he wants to hang out again."

In the morning I found a giant wad of toilet paper in my previously empty garbage can and vomitted one single cube of tomato into the toilet.