Well, it’s Friday night and that generally means date night. I’ll admit I do have an okcupid dating profile. I’ve had the paid ones in the past, but I figure, why pay for more creepy messages than not? I’ll probably have the same luck on both, so here we are.
At 6 p.m., I met my date at Blackburn park. We decided to meet there and then he drive us to the destination, that I still didn’t know of at this time, and around for the date. Have I mentioned I hate driving in Atlanta? I purposely got my apartment close to everything necessary for my survival so I wouldn’t have to drive much.
I seriously hate it.
Forty minutes after leaving and cussing at 1/3 of the town, I arrived and got out to wait for…we’ll call him Jim. To wait for Jim. He’d told me his car was black, so I kept my eye out for a black vehicle entering. The guy is supposed to be a 37 year old accountant, so I admit I was looking for a nicer looking car.
Boy, was I wrong. Or he lied. Probably both.
A beat up Chevy pulled in with the bumpers hanging on with duct tape.
You read that right, duct tape.
Now, I get it. It’s the south and he’s a man. Duct tape fixes everything, but I don’t feel comfortable getting in a car held together by duct tape. He parked beside me and I saw the windshield wipers also had a little tape at the ends. What else had he taped together?
“Felicity?” the man asked. He closed the door, revealing himself. He looked old, people. Older than 37.
“Jim?” I replied back as my mind raced. How could I get out of this? He was at least 60, not even joking.
“You. Are. Beautiful.” When he grinned I felt a chill run down my spine.
“And you look a little different than your pics, Jim.”
He smirked and glanced around. “Yeah, that was nephew.”
“Ah.” I pursed my lips and nodded. I was angry. I hate being lied to. “Well, I think this is over.”
“What, no! You’re so beautiful. I’d love to show you how good of a time an old man like me could be.”
I held my hand out to stop his approach. In my purse, my hand grabbed the mace I had handy in case things had gone south. “Yeah, that’s gonna be a no. You’re old enough to be my father and it’s too creepy for me. I’m sure you’ll find someone.”
His expression turned sour. “All you bitches run away when you see me! I’m only 68! A man still needs loving.”
I backed away to my door, then hopped in and locked the doors. Thank God for all the lights in this parking lot. I sped off, but I saw him in the rearview mirror shaking his fists and screaming in my direction.
And that’s why I’m home at 9:30 on a Friday night. Did you have a good night?