The good thing is no person I will ever describe to you during my 'Crazy B*tch' segments can see this via Facebook or whatever. These individuals will never have the luxury of being my friend on there (admit it, you are kind of honored to be on there, aren't you?). Today's inductee to the 'Insanity Hall of Fame' is a woman named Kristen. Oh, as you can tell, I don't care if I mention their names on here. The odds of that person seeing this, being able to identify the story and prove it's them I'm talking about are simply zero. Put your seatbelt on and hang on for dear life, because you're about to experience:
CRAZY B*TCH SESSION
Pt. I - Kristen
To begin this story, I must first tell you that I have joined a few dating sites over the years. I have no shame in that, in fact it is very common nowadays. These sites are not capable of screening out the real nutjobs, so some men are possibly subjected to similar experiences that I've had. The site that sent Kristen my way is PlentyOfFish (POF for short). I was sitting at home on a Friday evening, fully expecting a relaxing evening to watch a movie or two. I get a message on POF from this girl asking if I had any plans, to which I replied I didn't. Her idea was to go to a bar for live music and a couple of beers. Rather harmless. She asked if I'd pick her up from her place, which at first seemed a little forward, considering we had been chatting for all of ten minutes or so, but I said I would.
So here's a little bit of what was written in her profile:
- 5'1", average build, dirty blond hair
- Irish and extremely proud of it
- Works at a place for children's day care, has a roommate with a child
The only good thing that night.
So we're sipping our beers, carrying on awkward conversation with long pauses while a solo guitarist is up there singing away. She then tells me she knows the singer. She also knew his brother that passed away not too long ago, and that he performs in memory of him. Very admirable. I was then informed that she didn't really like the guy on stage; not his music, but rather his personality. After another beer, she starts to tell me why she doesn't like the guy. In less graphic terminology, she wanted to sleep with him and he declined. Simple as that. Then she says she does child care, but not at some day care center. She's an au pair, basically a live-in maid. Another lie, but at this point, it didn't matter much to me. For the next hour or so, it was more mundane conversation, with a brief mention of having OCD. Alright, maybe you're thinking, "Well if she's OCD, maybe you shouldn't label her crazy." False, but we'll get to that shortly. I end up driving her home, dropping her off and carrying on home. I figured she had as crappy a night as I did, and that would be the end of that.
I thought wrong.
The next day, I decided I would try for the movie night I was unknowingly robbed of the night before. I get a text from Kristen asking what my plans were for the night. I know I should have lied and said I had plans, but I have a guilty conscience, so I asked what she was thinking of doing. She said a friend of hers was coming out and they wanted to hit up a bar near my house. I said I'd DD since I was low on cash, and that would be all. Let me stop here for a moment. Yes, I am crazy for even thinking of doing her this favor, but here's my thought process: even if this girl is legitimately batty, I can at least check her friend out. Don't judge me, I officially proved myself to be less crazy just like that.
So I drive over there with a few beers to sip when I get to her place. I walk in the door, and before I can shut the door behind me, two beers are taken from me, popped open and sipped by this girl and her friend. I kept my mouth shut and figured it was better off since I'd be doing the driving. No problem. After a few minutes of observing her friend, I determined I was uninterested in either one of them. My next idea is if I'm the DD, I can at least be sober and people-watch at the bar. The entire night, I was trying to look for the positives, believe me.
We end up leaving, and I take what I assumed was a pretty direct route to the bar. Kristen is riding shotgun while the friend is in the backseat. As I'm driving along, I pass an intersection that also heads toward our destination. About a quarter-mile past the intersection, I saw the demon inside of her unleashed. This girl begins to pound on my dashboard and passenger window with her fists, all while screaming at me that I should have made that turn. She's going on and on about how I took her the wrong route, we'll never get there, how much of an a-hole I am, etc. Her friend is trying to calm her down, while I'm trying to just calm myself down internally. We get to the next intersection (where I intended on turning originally) and tells me it will take twenty minutes to get there. I assured her we'd get there faster than 20 minutes, which was as if I had thrown fuel into the fire, so to speak. She begins pounding on the interior of my car again, and then threatens to piss in my car as retaliation for going the wrong way.
Ok. Re-read the last two sentences if you must. Go ahead, I'll wait...
...so she tells me that she will intentionally piss in my car because I didn't go the way she wanted me to. To threaten me like that, you must have a pretty clear mind of what's going on around you. If she said she really had to use the bathroom and was afraid she wouldn't make it, that's one thing. This was the first moment I didn't really buy into this OCD thing. Also, I knew it wouldn't even take ten minutes to get there. Given her threat, I took no chances and floored it getting to the bar. We made it in seven minutes, and I pull up to the front of the bar and say, "Have a nice night ladies, I'm going home. I won't be dealing with this sh*t all night." Kristen gets super quiet, and her friend begs and pleads for me to stay. If her friend wasn't such a nice person, I would have ditched them, no problem. I felt bad for her, though. I mean, who in their right mind would want to be alone around someone who just had an episode like that? With witnesses, no less. So I stayed.
They use the bathroom, come back out, stand by the bar and decide they suddenly don't want to stay there. They'd like to go to another bar. At this point in time, I see this as an opportunity to have a story to tell in the future, and I felt I could withstand the rest of the night's shenanigans and have a night to both remember and forget. That's exactly what I continued to get.
"Eat at Shenanigans, enjoy your food...eat at Shenanigans, Calvin works here!!" - Dane Cook
So I drive us to the next bar (seemingly taking the correct route, since there wasn't a repeat incident). I park, and Kristen gets out, speed-walking to the bar in question. Apparently her mind wasn't entirely made up on this bar, so she asks where else there is to go. I suggest a bar, one of the bigger ones in the area, and she says, "I don't want to go to some crappy small bar!" As I begin to tell her it's actually one of the biggest, she storms off toward the originally planned destination. Another big test of my patience, yet I pressed on.
We go into this horrible dump of a club/bar thing and I'm just hanging out with a water. Kristen and the friend go dancing and whatnot, I'm talking to a few random people in the meantime, no big thing. Shortly thereafter, Kristen comes to me hanging all over some dude who looked as thrilled as I did, and asks me to take everyone home. That's right...this wench wanted to bring home a booty-call and have me as the chauffeur. At this point my patience is paper thin, but I see it as an abrupt end to the night if I just load everyone up and go. So we go.
I drive back to her place, we head in and incredibly, she's the nicest person in the world. She's talking to me as if I'm some long-time friend of hers, totally ignoring the guy that she just took home for some action, then she runs at me and jumps into my arms with a giant smile on her face. It seemed that everyone but her was completely confused at this point. She quickly turns her attention to the other guy, meanwhile the friend hands me a parking pass to place in my car just in case I don't feel like driving home that night. I go out to my car, put the pass on my dashboard and head back in. As I open the door, Kristen and her friend are screaming in each others' faces as the booty-call guy is sitting on the couch horrified. Kristen proceeded to kick myself and the friend out of her place. It didn't take any convincing at that point, because when I walked in to see them arguing, my patience met its limit. I got in my car, drove home and never spoke to/heard from her again.
There was far too much rational thought coming from her throughout the night to be completely credited as just OCD. Her mood changes were far too suspect in nature. Everything pointed to her using her 'condition' as a crutch. There was no mention of medicine, but there was mention of her collecting disability. Sounds possible to me she was abusing the system to collect money. That's a lot more logical than anything otherwise, thus making her a crazy b*tch. In case you're left wondering, I don't know what happened to Mr. Booty-call that night. For all I know, he's cut into twenty pieces and stored in her freezer. I hope he made it out of there unharmed, but that seems rather unlikely. As for me, I survived the night, obviously.
Her other previous dates. I consider myself lucky to have escaped.
For my patience, I have to quote Russell Brand from 'Forgetting Sarah Marshall':
"You deserve a medal, or a holiday, or at least a cuddle from somebody."Some have suggested sainthood, actually, but I'm willing to accept whatever I'm offered. Yes, I acknowledge that I let the night continue far too long, but If I hadn't, I wouldn't have as grand of a story to leave you all with.
You're welcome.
D.
No comments:
Post a Comment