Authors: Ava Michaels
Next
up a certain "dayzedconfused420" wanted to know what I was up to that
night. His profile picture wasn't bad - a little bit James Franco, if James
Franco didn't take care of himself, and with glasses. But, he was also a
student at Dartmouth, his message wasn't full of spelling mistakes, and he at least
seemed more charming than Gaines.
Screw
it… I clicked reply and agreed to go on a date. I guess I was going to the
movies that night and hopefully more…
………
When
I felt that I'd accomplished enough of Bartok's housekeeping (or, at least,
more than any of the other hung-over kids in the office would today) and
figured that she had gone home for the day, I called it quits.
………
Going
to the movies was always a good date idea. I know some girls found it boring or
cliché, but you could tell a lot about a dude by the movies he liked. We were
going to see Bad Boys 3. Any movie title with a three after it isn’t really
going to display a whole lot of creativity. But, with the right guy, anything
could be an enjoyable experience.
Unfortunately,
"dayzedconfused420" was as big a dud as Bad Boys 3. But I think this
episode deserves to be told from the beginning.
………
I
hurried to the elevator and pushed the button over and over hoping that it
would make the elevator go faster. I wanted to be on time for my date. The
doors opened and their stood Mr. No Name dressed like his normal self but
without a girl.
“Look,
it’s
Elevator Girl.”
I
rolled my eyes and pressed button seven.
The
elevator started to ascend but suddenly jerked up, then it abruptly stopped
between the third and fourth floor. I stumbled and bumped into his arms. He
caught me... I could smell his cologne and it was intoxicating.
"Are
you okay?" he asked.
I
stood straight up. "Yeah, I think so. Thank you for catching me. What
happen?"
"I
think we are stuck."
"Oh, no.
No, I can’t be
stuck. All we have to do is press these buttons and make this thing move."
I
started pushing all the floor buttons. Nothing happened.
"This
can’t be happening. I have a date tonight."
"Wow,
you’re getting cock blocked by an
elevator,
” he said
and then laughed.
“Ugh!”
I groaned, now pounding my fist on the buttons.
“Look,
calm down. If you stay cool and collected we will probably be out of here in a
minute or two.”
Says
the man who’s had sex! Me? I could be losing out on an opportunity. I pounded
the buttons one last time.
Nothing.
He
walked to the panel and pressed the help button. I should have been able to
figure out that one.
A
man responded back quickly, "How can I help you?"
"Hey,
we are stuck between the third and fourth floor. Can you please get us out
here?"
"Unfortunately,
maintenance said it’ll take a couple minutes. It’s nothing serious so don’t
worry.”
“Thanks,”
Mr. No Name said, turning back towards me and smiling
sheepley
.
"Looks like we’re are going to be here for a few minutes."
"Crap,
this sucks big time."
I
threw my purse on the floor and starred at my phone hoping that a signal bar
would come on. No such luck.
I
sat on the floor of the elevator pressing my back against the side wall. I was
going on a date that night, but now I was stuck inside an elevator with
womanizing Mr. No Name. I looked over at him and all he was doing was smiling.
Sure, he looked really good... And he had a breathtaking smooth voice... But
who knows which of those girls he's been with had diseases. Yeah, these are the
kinds of thoughts that always had me cock blocking myself. I now had a double
dose.
"What
are you smiling about?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Just
that you are stuck in an elevator with me…"
"Well,
don't get any ideas because I'm not like any of those other girls you take
home. Legs
isn't
the word of the day so I'm not going
to be spreading it."
He
started chuckling. "Jesus, Elevator Girl. You are being pretty defensive
and I didn't even do anything to you," he said, still laughing.
"You
just said that you were smiling because I'm stuck in an elevator with you. I
know what you're thinking."
"Because of the other girls, right.
I'm not like
that, just because they go to my apartment does not mean that I sleep with
them. I'm not that easy. They are, but I’m not."
"Whatever."
"Seriously,
I'm not some man whore. I test girls. If I bring them home and they instantly
try to have sex with me then I know they are there for the wrong reasons. They
probably don't want to settle down. Plus, if they are that easy then they
likely have had sex with a lot a guys. I'm not one to want to put my dude in
places where many other guys have been. The thought of touching another guy's
penis with my own just isn't that pleasant."
I
raced another eyebrow. "Well, that's one way to put it," I said,
grinning. “
Your
… Dude…”
He
did seem sincere saying it but I had to laugh inside at the thought of what he
was saying. It just seemed quirky and weird but it was nice to know I wasn't
the only one that had weird thoughts.
Mr.
No Name was picky!
"So
what's with the suit? Do you ever wear anything else?" I asked, trying to
change the awkward subject that I didn't feel comfortable talking about.
"Of
course, but I've been working so much lately that I don't really have time to
change."
Was
he counting the girls he was bringing home as work? The way they acted, they
really needed a lot of work…
"Right, work."
"Well,
I never get off work when I plan so I always end up going on dates wearing my
work clothes."
It
was almost like he was trying to find the perfect girl. But I was trying to
find the perfect man...
To have sex with…
We were
currently polar opposites.
"Two
questions, with expensive suits like that why do you live in this cheap
apartment building and are you trying to find the perfect girl or
something?"
"I
actually just moved here a month and a half ago and they didn't have any nice
apartments open at the time so I just got whatever, which led me here. I'm
actually moving pretty soon because somebody moved out of the
The
Hartford Estates."
Holy
moly... Holy moly... Those were some of the most expensive places in town. He
had to be loaded with cash if he was going to be living there.
“Cool,"
I said, trying not to seem so shocked that he was super rich. "And are you
trying to find the perfect girl?"
"Of
course, I was in Australia for six years working for a company trying to help
others. It was a lot of hard work but I decided that I wanted to move back to
the states so I moved here when there was an opening with the company. I am
getting older. I want to be married with kids. I don't want to be a lonely
40-year-old man."
With his looks...
And that smooth
and soothing voice... I didn't know how there was any way he could still be
single by the time he was 40. Maybe he was just too picky. One of the girls he
had been bringing home had to be good enough, you would think anyway. I was
pretty picky... Well, picky when deciding who is going to deflower my pussy
willow
…
I was beginning to sound like a bad comedy
movie.
"I
don't think that'll happen…," I said, almost moaning the words. "I'm
guessing Australia gave you that soothing voice?"
"Yeah,
after living there for six years it just kind of caught on... I don't mind it
though,
the women seem to like it." It was working for
me. "So how about you, what are you doing in this apartment building? And
why haven't I seen you with any guys? No boyfriend? Or is tonight your first date?"
"I'm
actually in college right now so that is why I live here. I have an apartment
with three other girls. It's pretty hard to pick out the right guy so I have
kind of just stayed away from them. But the date tonight is my first time going
out with this guy and so I should be getting ready."
The
elevator turned back on. It was like God was answering my prayer so I could go
and get ready for my date. However, I almost wanted the elevator not to work
because I was enjoying my conversation with Mr. No Name. I’d probably never
know his name now that he was moving. I wanted to ask but then he’d probably
wonder why I suddenly cared. Why did I?
"Awesome,
well it looks like you should be able to go get ready for your date now. Good
luck."
"Thanks
and good luck finding the perfect girl."
The
elevator stopped at the seventh floor and I jumped up from the floor and
sprinted out towards my apartment.
………
When
I arrived back at the apartment, Jess greeted me giggling and clapping her
hands like she was five. Maybe it had been a mistake to text her about the
date. She already had an outfit selected for me. It was something between the
boudoir and the Frat-house, but with even less fabric than you'd expect. I had
no idea where she'd gotten it from. The only thing I could think was that
Frederick's of Hollywood had a fire sale.
Daryl
showed up right on time in front of the apartment building. Starting the night
off on an appropriately awkward note, I didn't even recognize him when he
pulled up in his blue VW Bug. There was a solid two minutes with me grinding my
heels into a cigarette butt on the ground and trying to act casual while
"dayzedconfused420" sat in his car like an idiot staring at me.
The
night went downhill from there.
On
our way to the theater, I could barely disguise my displeasure. I assumed that
people tended to choose their most flattering pictures to show off on dating
websites, but this was something else entirely. Daryl had the sort of acne that
he should have lost back in high school and he had a horrific habit of putting
his hand on my thigh after picking at one, no matter how many times I swatted
it away. He listed himself as "classically handsome" on his OKCupid
profile. But the picture, possibly taken in his golden year as a junior in high
school, was in some bad lighting where he was mostly in shadow. It was a man’s
version of a Glamour Shot photo.
He
was a Philosophy major, which meant he thought he was smarter than everyone
else. I guess he thought if he babbled on about Wittgenstein that maybe I
wouldn’t notice his bad skin and be enraptured by his superior intellect. I
think I got four sentences in on the twenty minute ride to the movie theater. I
told him my full name, where I was from originally, and that I didn’t smoke
weed. And, just to see what happened, I asked what a philosophy major was doing
picking out a movie like Bad Bays 3. That backfired and he carried the rest of
the conversation to new heights of boringness.
Once
we arrived at the multiplex, Daryl decided to give me a display of his manhood
by trying to back into a parking space. The result was a deep and long scratch
down the length of a minivan and my date trying his hardest to look casual and
bad-ass as he desperately searched for another spot - far from the minivan. I
thought it was funny. He griped that his car was a vintage automobile. If
vintage meant rusty?
Yeah, sure.
As
I started to get out of the car, "dayzedconfused420" grabbed a hold
of my arm.
"Hey,
I figured you might
wanna
have a little fun in the
movie..."
Fighting
back a wave of nausea, I gave him a weak smile and watched him produce a water
bottle filled with Bacardi. Someone really knew how to charm a girl.
It
was totally embarrassing watching Daryl pull the bottle of rum out of his
jacket once we were seated. He seemed to be trying to look cool, but it was
clear that he was just cheap. He also produced a bag of
Twizzlers
from his coat that had become warm and a little
melty
by his body heat. I was totally grossed out. I looked around the theater in
search of a familiar face. Anyone who I could use as floatation devises to save
me from this sinking date. But there was no one. I was on my own with the last
of the big spenders.
The
less said about the movie the better. I couldn't even tell you what the plot
was if I wanted to, because I spent the entirety of it removing Daryl's greasy
hand from various spots on my body and planting it firmly back in his lap.
Did
he really think that if I didn't want his arm around me, I'd prefer a hand on
my thigh?
………
On
the way home, we barely spoke.
"Did
you like that part where the dude's knocking on the door and he's expecting
this other dude, but it's a girl and she just blows his shit away?"