Date #42: Dirty Talk

So in fact, the Internet may be hurting me more than I realize.

My name and e-mail address was given to a guy named Oliver that Brian thought I would like. He e-mailed me and asked for a date. After hearing nothing but nice things about him from Brian, and seeing from a recent photo that he mildly resembles a preppy Topher Grace (--I love Topher Grace, ps) I agreed.

As per usual, neither I nor the guy to wait until the date to get some info on each other, so we started IMing each other the night before.

Brian had described him as being "shy, reserved, you know, the quiet type."

Two minutes into the conversation, he asked me this little gem of a question:

OLIVER: So how big is your #$%^?

(And no, ladies and gentlemen, he wasn't asking about my kneecap.)

ME: Um, that's a little forward, no?
OLIVER: Oh, come on. We're both adults here.

Adults, to my knowledge, do taxes and drive mini-vans. They don't ask other adults how mongo their bongos are.

Still, I don't want to be considered a prude, so I compromised.

ME: Let's just say I'll tell you one day assuming this dates and others following it goes well.
OLIVER: A coy boy, huh? That's f**king hot.

P'scuse me?

ME: You're not exactly what Brian described, you know.
OLIVER: Oh yeah? How did he describe me?
ME: He said you were shy and quiet.
OLIVER: In public, yeah. But in bed I like to howl.
ME: Howl?
OLIVER: Just like a f**king love wolf, baby. You like that?

Oh Christ...

I told him I had to get to bed soon, and that ended the conversation.

The next day at lunch, I relayed to Brian that his friend was a teenage werewolf.

BRIAN: You're kidding. Oliver?
ME: Yes, Oliver.
BRIAN: I've heard him say three words the entire time I've known him.
ME: Well, maybe you should try getting in the sack. That might open him up a little bit.
BRIAN: I wouldn't have even suggested you go out with him except that he always seemed nice.
ME: It's not that he wasn't nice; it's just that he was a bit of sex-maniac.
BRIAN: That's not always a bad thing, you know.
ME: Why do you think I didn't cancel the date?

To be honest, I can't say anyway I've ever dated has been on the wild side--in the "I howl in bed" kind of way anyway. I'll admit, I was a little intrigued.

But then I kept getting texts like these all day.

FROM OLIVER: Do you like it when guys run their tongues over your stomach?

Then--

FROM OLIVER: If things go well tonight, I want to tie you down and bathe you in saliva.

And then--

FROM OLIVER: I was just looking at your picture. You are so f**king hot. I can't wait to #$% all over you, you dirty #$%^sucker.

That was when I started to reconsider, but it was already 7:30pm and the date was at 8pm.

Part of me expected to be humped as soon as I walked into the restaurant, but instead I found Oliver sitting there quietly waiting for me.

He stood up, gave me a hug, and we were shown to our table.

Dinner was quiet.
Conversation was limited.
Lots of awkward silence.

Finally, we were done. I was wondering what happened to Dirty Oliver, so I thought I might encourage him a little--dangerous though that may be.

ME: So, do you want to do anything...?
OLIVER: Um, I don't know. I think I better just go home.
ME: Oh, okay.
OLIVER: You're really...nice, by the way.

Oh, I get it. He's not attracted to me.

ME: Hey, it's okay. I'm not everybody's type.
OLIVER: Actually, you're exactly my type.

Pause.

ME: Oh.

Pause, pause.

OLIVER: Yeah.

Pause, pause, beat, pause.

OLIVER: I'd better go home.

And he did.

FRIEND: You expect me get off with material like that?
ME: Sorry if it was a little anti-climatic.
FRIEND: Anti-climatic? That boy is a #$%^tease!
ME: He's not the first guy I've met whose all talk.
FRIEND: That's why I like to cut talking out all together.
ME: That's what happens when you live in a society where walls are created by technology, allowing people to expose their true selves only to have them hide again once they're out in the light.
FRIEND: I'm sorry, honey, were you saying something? I heard a social commentary coming on and I started looking for gay porn online.

I got this text an hour after the date:

FROM OLIVER: So when are we getting together again so I can #$%^ on your #$%^?

I didn't answer him back--I just didn't feel like talking.