The List (14 page)

I
didn't escape the last girls' night meeting without promising them I would try at least three more dates before I gave up. I don't how they got that promise out of me. Angela started talking about how wonderful it was to have a date every weekend and how Gary had started hinting about spending the rest of his life with her. Vanessa took over with some spiritual psychobabble about pressing in when we want to retreat, and Lisa finished me off with old-maid jokes.

So, I encouraged myself in the Lord and went on the prowl for more dates. Even though things turned out bad with Kelvin, I decided it was safest to stick with guys from the church.

One of the guys that served in the homeless ministry with me had always been a little friendly, and I figured he was worth a try. Any guy concerned about the less fortunate had to be pretty godly, right?

After our latest trip to a downtown women's shelter, I struck up a conversation and flirted a little, and it wasn't long before he asked me out.

I decided to try the movies again. As I had found out with Kelvin, if I didn't like him, at least I could lose myself in a good movie and then the date could be over. And this time, I wouldn't let the date drag on after any hints that things were gonna go south.

Once again, we met at Stonecrest Mall. Thomas was leaning against a pole waiting for me. Outside the church setting, he had a different look. A different swagger. I didn't like it.

“Hey, Michelle. Boy, do you look good.” He started a lame LL Cool J impression, licking his thick lips.

“Hey, Thomas. Good to see you, too.” I couldn't think of another thing to say. So, I smiled and stood there watching him lick his ashy lips. I started to offer him some Chapstick, but I didn't want to share. No telling how much slob he had built up on those lips of his.

We headed toward the theatre. The line was a little long, so I had no choice but to talk to him for a few minutes. I wanted to tell him to wipe off the white stuff gathering at the edges of his lips. I almost gagged at the thought of him trying to kiss me at the end of the night.

He looked up at the movie choices and times. “You know, I was thinking, instead of seeing
Meet the Browns
, how about we go see
Iron Man
?”

I really didn't want to see
Iron Man,
but decided to try to be agreeable. “I guess, if that's what you want to see.”

“Well, I only want to see what you want to see.”

I forced a smile. “I told you what I wanted to see.”

He licked his lips, disrupting some of the white crust. “I know, but I didn't want to see that. I figured you might want to see
Iron Man
.”

“Sure, Thomas. That's fine.” Now I couldn't even use the deliciously gorgeous men Tyler Perry always seemed to find to star in his movies as a distraction.
God, just let this end, please.

“Yeah, but only if you want to see it.”

My only solace now was that I was going to have another funny story to share on girls' night. “Honestly, I really want to see
Meet the Browns
, but if you'd rather see
Iron Man
, that's fine.”

“I want you to be happy.”

“Then take me to see
Meet the Browns
.” We were almost at the front of the line.

“Okay. Okay.” He stood there for a second. “Wow, I really don't want to see
Meet the Browns
. Are you sure you don't want to see
Iron Man
?”

It's a sure sign that a date isn't going well when you start to imagine what it would feel like to have your fingers gripping the man's throat.

“You know what, Thomas? I have a great idea. Why don't you go see
Iron Man,
and I'll go see
Meet the Browns
.”

“But then we won't be on a date.”

“Exactly.”

He stood there pondering that for a second. “Will I still have to pay for yours then?”

And with that, I simply turned around and walked back to my car.

 

And then there was Derrick from the youth ministry. He seemed like a godly enough guy from our brief interactions with the kids. After the last youth ministry meeting, I did my usual batting my eyelashes and giggling at non-funny jokes, and next thing I knew, we were on a date.

He took me out to dinner at The Cheesecake Factory. He was the perfect gentleman, opening doors and pulling chairs, like his momma had taught him well. He was also cute, with nice white teeth and dimples. Kinda reminded me of Jason. He did the conscientious Christian-guy thing, forcing himself to look at my face every time his eyes instinctively wandered down to my body.

“This is a nice place. How often do you come here?” I looked at the menu to pick a mid-priced item. Another one of Lisa's rules.

“Only when God leads me. I try to make sure in everything I do and everywhere I go, I'm led by God.”

O-kay . . . the first sign. Hopefully he wasn't serious. I laughed a little, but realized he wasn't telling a joke. He seemed to be purposefully looking away from me, making me wonder if I had something in my nose. I thought I looked extra cute tonight—had even worn a V-neck top that gave up a little cleavage.

Second sign . . . when the food came, he grabbed my hand for prayer. “Father, in the name of Jesus, we bless this food, Father God in the name of Jesus. And we pray that you cleanse it of all impurities, Father God in the name of Jesus. We declare that it is blessed and that it blesses our bodies with health and life, Father God in the name of Jesus. We curse any curses on this food and bind any curses that may have been imparted into it by the hands that prepared it, Father God in the name of Jesus. We declare that any voodoo or witchcraft that anyone in the kitchen may be participating in to bring curses into our lives does not affect us, Father God in the name of Jesus, and we curse the curse and plead the blood and declare it has no effect on us, Father God in the name of Jesus.”

I peeked out of one eye at his face, intense with his mealtime intercession. You never knew what was inside of someone until you spent ten minutes with them. Only then could you get an inkling of how warped they might be.

As he continued on in warfare over our dinner, I hoped it wouldn't be long before I could partake of what had to be the most blessed, curse-free chicken I would ever eat in my life. I had to wonder what brought him to this point. Had some girl worked some roots on him in his past?

I tuned back into his prayer just in time to hear him say, “And I rebuke the spirit of perversion. You foul demon, you will not tempt me. I curse you and plead the blood over my life and my purity. You will not cause me to fall tonight. I curse you, spirit of lust. You foul demon of sexual impurity, I curse you. Satan, the Lord rebuke you. You will not draw me into sexual sin.” He dropped my hand like it was hot and drew back. He looked at me like I was Jezebel herself.

“Michelle, I am sensing a strong spirit of perversion here. I'm not sure if it's you or if it's someone in the restaurant, but I want to serve the devil notice that I will not fall into sexual sin tonight. I rebuke it in the name of Jesus and declare that the blood of Jesus is covering my life.”

I flagged down the waitress. “Can I get my food to go?”

 

Then there was Larry. Should have known better than to let Erika set me up with someone who she knew would be “perfect” for me.

I had decided that with any new guy, we would meet for coffee first, and then if I didn't like him, I didn't have to sit through a whole dinner or a whole movie. He met me at my car a few doors down from the Starbucks in downtown Decatur. He was nice-looking. Nice chocolate brown with a shiny bald head, nice broad nose and strong chin. Maybe tonight would be a better night.

After we shook hands and went through the nice-to-meet-you routine, we started walking down the street and he grabbed my hand. “I hope you don't mind me holding your hand. I like to show my ladies affection.”

I tried to not be too abrupt when I pulled my hand away. “That's sweet, but I'd like to get to know you better first.”
And I don't know where your hand has been.
I looked longingly at my car, wanting to dash back to it, get in and go screeching down the street.
Just coffee, Michelle, and a new story for the girls.

So we ordered our coffee and sat in those comfortable armchairs in Starbucks. We didn't get too far into the small talk before I started to wonder what it was about him that made Erika think I would want to go out with him. He bantered about his years working at the post office and all the stress that went with that line of work.

As he droned on and on about stuff I had no interest in, I remembered Angela asking about dating a guy without a college degree. It wasn't about being snotty about his level of education. It was more a matter of him not having anything to talk about that I wanted to hear.

When it came time for me to talk about what I did, he listened intently, then said, “Wow. That's intimidating. You're really successful. That's really intimidating for a guy like me.”

Strike two. Time to go ahead and get it over with. I asked one of my most important rule-out questions. “So what's your ultimate? Your dream? Where are you trying to go with your life?”

He sat there for a second, blinking, like he had never considered that question.

I sat quietly, waiting for him to come up with something. Even if I never saw him again, maybe my role here was to make him think about destiny and purpose.

“I don't know. Haven't really ever thought about that.” He kept blinking with a blank stare.

“Really? Never?”
Sir, you are forty years old. When do you plan to think about it?

He shrugged. “I guess it hasn't been important.”

What could be more important?
I wanted to scream at him.

I could tell I had him feeling bad about himself, so I figured I'd change the subject to something he could brag about. “So, Erika tells me you have two daughters?”

He nodded. “Yeah, but you wouldn't have to worry about them. They both live with their mothers. One in Texas and the other in Kentucky. I haven't seen either of them in a couple of years. They wouldn't be a problem.” He said it like I should be relieved.

I decided to change the subject to give him one last chance to redeem himself, not that there was much chance of that. “So, where do you go to church?”

Erika had gone on and on about how we would hit it off because he was such a spiritual man. Even though I had already ruled him out, talking about God might at least make the rest of this brief coffee date slightly interesting.

“Oh, nowhere. I'm a practicing Buddhist. Like Tina Turner. After I saw
What's Love Got To Do With It
, I knew it was for me.” He started chanting. “Na Re Me Co . . .”

I drained the rest of my coffee and stood up. “Whew, shouldn't have had this coffee. My stomach is really bubbling. Hate to cut things short, but I better head home.”

He had to run to follow me to my car.

When I opened the door and started to get in, he said, “Call me on your way home. There's something I need to tell you.”

Oh dear. Could this get any worse? “What is it?”

“Just call me on your way home. I'll tell you then.”

I'd had enough. “We're grown adults. If there's anything you need to tell me, tell me now.”
Not like it matters. I will never see you again. Unless, of course, you're delivering my mail.

He leaned over close to my ear and whispered, “I have genital herpes.”

I froze. Did he just say what I thought he said?
Don't react, Michelle. Think. Say something.
“Well, one in four Americans does.” All I could think of was this stupid commercial on TV for herpes medicine.

I got into my car as quickly as I could. His announcement not only said he thought there was a chance we'd have another date, but that if we did, he thought we'd sleep together. I knew how to nip this in the bud.

“Since we're making confessions, you should know that I'm celibate and plan to stay that way until I'm married.” Certainly that was enough to get rid of him.

“Really?” He stood there thinking for a few moments. “We would have to get married quick, then. Like within six months.”

I had no more words. I quickly shut the door and started up the car. As I drove down the street, I reached into the glove compartment to pull out my hand sanitizer. I couldn't believe he tried to hold my hand.

 

At our next girls' meeting, I dethroned Lisa as the queen of bad dates. The girls laughed until I thought they would get sick as I told them about Mr. Indecisive, Mr. Super-spiritual, and Mr. Infectious Disease. I laughed with them at first, but the bad taste in my mouth from each experience took away from the humor.

After all that, I wasn't so sure about this dating stuff. If my bad dates and Lisa's bad dates were any indication of what I would continue to experience, I was pretty sure I didn't want to date any more. Perhaps we needed to come to a scary conclusion.

Maybe guys our age who were single were single for a reason.

I looked up at Angela. She seemed more quiet and withdrawn than usual. I wondered if she was trying to stay invisible because she was afraid we'd get on her case again about staying at Gary's house when she went to Augusta for the weekend.