Read INTERNET DATES FROM HELL Online

Authors: Trisha Ventker

INTERNET DATES FROM HELL (13 page)

BOOK: INTERNET DATES FROM HELL
6.43Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“Right now, Marion, I need to sort things out. I’m a little shaken,” I responded.

“Take all the time you need. You appear to be a good kid yourself.”

As she drove out of the parking lot, I felt an overwhelming sadness for that family. I realized at that point how fortunate it was to be “normal.” The next morning came and went with a quick cab ride to the airport, surrounded by the beauty of Southern California. I had never been this far south in California before, and I absolutely loved the scenery. What a beautiful region of the country. Just then I had a bizarre thought. Actually it was more of a joke that I had heard when I was a kid but could never quite understand. It goes as follows: “Other than that, Mrs. Abraham Lincoln, how did you like the play?” I finally got that joke, which my father used to tell and my brothers used to laugh at.

14
 

Be Wary of Someone Too Eager to Travel a Great Distance Right Away
 

August 2000

I should have learned my lesson from chapter 3, where I traveled to England to visit Simon, but I didn’t, and I gave the Christian Singles site another chance. Another zealot answered my ad. This time it was Ben from Dallas, Texas. Although average in height, build, and complexion, his smile spoke volumes. During the first conversation after our initial e-mail correspondence, he seemed to be interested in someone from the north. I told him that I was not interested in moving to Texas, nor any other southern state for that matter. I was New York bred and bound. He said that even though he owned a tree trimming business and was a certified arborist, he would be willing to go where the Lord took him. On the phone he sounded personable and upbeat. It bothered me that he was already willing to sacrifice a business and career and move north before even meeting me. That spelled desperation to me.

With that in mind, I dug as deeply as I could with my questions to uncover the crack in his foundation. If I was successful, I would politely dismiss myself from the situation and move on. The more I dug, the less I found. He seemed to have answers for everything, most of which were logical and sound. His kind personality and phone presence warmed my heart. After several of these conversations over the span of two weeks, I decided to invite him to New York for a weekend. He jumped at the chance. “Why wait until next weekend, why not tomorrow?” he exclaimed.

Tomorrow? That was too eager for me. What is wrong with these guys who are willing to drop everything and fly 1,500 miles or more to be with someone they have never met? Now I truly understand why they call some southwestern cowboys desperados. I told him that tomorrow was no good, nor was the rest of the week for that matter. I got this strange mental image of three cowpokes standing up and spilling tin cups of coffee to put out their campfire. His silence on the phone was deafening.

“Are you still there, Ben?” I urged.

“Call me ‘Heck,’ will you Trish?”

“Heck,” I thought to myself. “I feel like I am in an episode of Bonanza, waiting for Little Joe and Hoss to walk in and lecture me on why I should take Heck up on his offer.”

“How do you spell that, Ben? I asked.

“Heck, H-e-c-k, like ‘oh Heck,’” he responded.

Now I was really in it! Second thoughts bombarded me. How can I get myself the heck out of this one? I finally told him that the following weekend would be better. This delay would allow me some time to think of an excuse not to go through with it.

Less than ten minutes later, the phone rang again. Heck was on the other line proclaiming that he had booked a flight over the Internet for $265 to New York, eight days away.

Eight days flew by, and my anticipation was practically nonexistent. I begrudgingly made it through Friday night rush hour traffic to JFK airport and waited at the gate for Heck to arrive. As I tried to imagine how this experience could turn out positively, Heck walked off the plane with a freaking cowboy hat, cowboy boots, faded denim jeans, and a red bandana. The only things missing were a holster and a piece of wheat between his teeth. He looked as if he stepped off the soundstage for an episode of Gunsmoke.

As I was driving him from the airport to his hotel, I decided to cut right to the chase. After a long-winded discussion about three saints, I finally asked him if he engaged in any online activity that he wasn’t proud of (since that had been a real deal-killer in the past for me). He switched gears and told me that God allows him to view porn online as a physical outlet to prepare him for the sacrament of marriage. He claimed that God spoke to him often and that God had actually guided him and had given him signs to meet me. He even confided to me that only a few years before, at the age of thirty, he would frequent topless bars to persuade the dancers to turn to God. One night he brought a dancer home, and she took advantage of him and stole his virginity. What a crock of shit! At that point, I wanted to drop the freak off by the side of the road at Sheep’s Head Bay on the Belt Parkway! But no, I’d gotten myself stuck in this mess. I had to deal with him. My mind was racing, so I planned what chores needed to be done that weekend so that the weekend would not be a total waste.

We arrived in New York City and went to dinner at a diner. I ordered a cheeseburger and fries, and he sat there and lectured me on how fattening and unhealthy my food was. At this point I truly felt ashamed of my food choices, but I defensively responded, “I don’t care. If I want a damn burger, I’ll have it.” It was then that I found out that he wasn’t only a religious fanatic, but also a health nut too. He wasn’t happy. He continued to badger me about the ill effects of eating meat. He claimed that in the last stages of becoming certified as an arborist he had learned a lot about the world of vegetarianism. He said that he had firmly converted himself and his workers.

He should have asked me to call him Hick, instead of Heck, for that’s truly what he morphed into as the hours transpired. He not only lectured me, but included everyone in the restaurant, and the city of New York for our unhealthy eating habits and meat-eating ways. He continued what seemed to be a sermon at that point, about how God gave us one body and it was not up to us to destroy it with toxic foods. He said he would pray to the archangel Gabriel for my forgiveness, as if Gabriel had nothing more to do than check souls at the gate of heaven (as far as Heck was concerned, he checked their waistlines as well).

I now knew the first order of business would be to remove my profile from the Christian singles site. I only wished that I could discover a better way to find a life partner. My mind was made up; I couldn’t take another minute, let alone two more days, of this crap.

In the middle of one of Heck’s rants about the lack of serious concern for ecology in New York City by its residents, I purposefully dropped my knife on the plate to make a scene. The sound was twice as loud as I had thought it would be. Many of the diner patrons stopped their dinner conversations and stared at me. That was just what I had wanted.

“That’s enough!” I yelled, “There’s nothing wrong with me, these people, or the city of New York for that matter. This is our home. Why don’t you take your cattleman’s ass back to Dallas where you are obviously more comfortable and more needed? This city is full of transplants and we don’t need another one. Do you hear that sound, Heck?”

“No, what?” Heck responded.

“That is the Lord calling you. You mentioned you would go wherever the Lord called you. I hear him calling you out of New York.”

I abruptly jumped out of the booth and threw a twenty on the table and headed for the door. Luckily, as soon as I left the diner, a cab pulled up. I was home in less than ten minutes.

15
 

Don’t Date Someone Who Has Never Been in a Relationship
 

December 2000

It was hard to believe that it was only a little more than a year ago that I was standing outside of Tiffany’s, being proposed to by an overly ambitious Don Juan type. Where did those thirteen months go? Thanksgiving had come and gone, and Macy’s had decorated its window a week early this year. “Great,” I thought to myself, “another Christmas without a relationship.” As a child I had loved Christmas, but as an adult this season wasn’t as jolly. I guessed there would be little “Ho Ho Ho” this Christmas, too (or maybe not). “Regardless,” I thought to myself, “this Christmas I am going to have a great time—with or without someone.” Thank God for Internet shopping. I could find an outfit, new shoes, and even a nice coat for myself without enduring all of the Christmas hype and gaudy displays in the department stores, which only made me self-conscious about my singleness. No sooner did I sit down to begin my splurge, than the ever-familiar ring of those three words was heard: “You have mail.” “Fantastic,” I thought to myself. When I get in the shopping mode, that’s all I want to do, and I don’t like to be distracted. As I sat debating whether to ignore my e-mail, I noticed that my screen saver appeared and made my decision for me. The lonely little snowman melting in the noonday sun that I chose for my screen saver seemed lonelier now than a week ago. Even the little pool of melted snow around his base seemed wider. Damn, he looked depressed! I decided to postpone my shopping splurge for a few minutes and read my e-mail.

Mickey wrote only a few lines, stating that he was looking for a partner to enjoy the fun things in life, especially around the Christmas holidays. He stated that he was six foot two inches, and of Irish-German descent. His photo showed that he was attractive. He worked part-time at an Internet start-up company located in New York City and part-time as a caddie in Rockland County, where he lived. “Rockland,” I thought to myself. “That’s funny, I don’t know if I have ever met anyone from Rockland County. How bad could this one be?”

I sent Mickey my phone number and he immediately called! He sounded mildly interesting, aside from his monotone delivery. Based on last year’s mistakes with out-of-state men, I decided to stay closer to home and concentrate on the greater metropolitan area. I also liked the notion of cutting to the chase early for quick exit purposes. I began the interview process. I asked Mickey about his last relationship, how many long-term or short-term relationships he had had. His response was that he had never had a relationship. Up went the red flag! This surprised me because he had reached the age of forty without a commitment to a serious relationship. Will wonders never cease? I didn’t think there were any forty-year-old virgins these days, or maybe I was being too presumptuous. I decided to give Mickey a try, due to his innocent divulgence of this very sensitive matter.

BOOK: INTERNET DATES FROM HELL
6.43Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Let's Rock! by Sheryl Berk
The Bridges at Toko-ri by Michener James A
Chaos by Timberlyn Scott
The Wells Bequest by Polly Shulman
Hot Target by Suzanne Brockmann
Heaven Scent by SpursFanatic
Lightning Encounter by Anne Saunders