Entry #3—Unwanted Physical
My online dating service of choice is OkCupid because it’s free and I’m a full-time graduate student (aka broke). I’ve found that the trade-off for using a free service is that there are a lot of guys who don’t have their shit together whatsoever. That’s why I was excited when I came across C’s profile. Seemingly funny, intelligent, educated, and driven, I was very interested. Also, he had a super endearing picture of him and his ailing grandmother, both with shaved heads – her because she had to have brain surgery, him in solidarity. I love people who love their grandmas. I sent him a message. After a few weeks of messaging, we decided to meet up. A few ideas were tossed around for our date and eventually C suggested we attend a lecture concerning alternative ways to teach the sciences to students in order to get them interested in scientific careers. Although most people I told thought this was the weirdest date idea ever, I was actually pretty impressed with the thoughtfulness behind it. C is a doctor at a very prestigious hospital in Boston and I am studying to work in education. The date seemed like a perfect blend of our interests. Plus, I’m nerdy as hell so I’m always down for a good lecture.
At the time, I lived about 50 minutes outside of Boston. So when date day arrived, I got to Boston a couple of hours early because the lecture started at the height of rush hour and I didn’t want to endure that level of stress immediately preceding this promising date. So I waited and waited and when it was finally time for us to meet, I got a text from C saying he was running late. Boo. So I waited some more and at long last, he arrived. There was food at the lecture and C asked me if I wanted anything. I declined but he loaded up a plate for himself. We found seats and chatted while waiting for the lecture to begin, except as we talked, he was also scarfing down his pile of food as though he hadn’t eaten in days. Luckily the lecture started a few minutes late because it gave C time to go back to the food table and fill up a second plate, which I also had the pleasure of watching him devour.
Oh, and the lecture hall was cramped so he had to awkwardly climb over me to go for his second helping. This provided an excellent opportunity for me to casually check out his butt…because it was pretty much on my face. The lecture got underway and after a while, C reached over and held my hand. Call me crazy, but sitting in a lecture hall in the midst of a highly intellectualized conversation about how to stimulate young minds in their physics classes doesn’t exactly light my fire. Apparently it did for C so we held hands for a little bit…meh. At the intermission, C asked if I wanted to leave and go get a bite to eat somewhere. I was exhilarated at the thought of watching C eat for a third time. In fairness, we hadn’t had much of a chance to chat thus far, so I agreed. We found a Mexican place and ordered some nachos to share and actually had some pretty great conversation. It was so great, in fact, that by the time the evening was winding down, I decided that all the prior questionableness was null and void; I liked C enough to see him again.
Except then C basically gave me a physical. By that I mean he asked me several questions about my medical history and provided me with some unsolicited general health suggestions. For example, C told me when I should start having mammograms, when I should stop taking birth control pills to avoid negative side effects, how often I should get tested for STDs and which ones I should be tested for, what vitamins to take, etc. I thanked C for his concern but informed him that my primary care physician was perfectly capable of advising me on medical matters. Yet, this interlude didn’t really bother me that much. It was definitely odd, but maybe C was trying to show off his suitability as a mate by demonstrating that I could live a long and healthy life with him by my side to look after these details.
Then, before I hopped in my car for the trek back to the ‘burbs, C kissed me. Since I could still see myself going out with C again, I went with it….until I felt his hand grab my boob (over my top) a couple of seconds later. To be clear, this was not some passionate make-out session where anyone in their right mind could construe that it would be appropriate to go for the grope. This was, I thought, a little goodnight kiss. I don’t exactly remember how I reacted except that I pulled away, removed his hand, and probably said something incoherent since my jaw was on the ground. C seemed just as surprised by my reaction as I had been to feel his hand on my boob to begin with. Then, apparently unphased, C said, “Wow, your breasts are very large. I mean, I had some idea from your photos online but I had no idea they were that big. That was more than a handful.” Thank you, C. I’m pretty sure I know how big my boobs are, but thank you for that medically-precise assessment of their size nonetheless. C was flabbergasted and couldn’t even fathom why I would be uncomfortable with him touching my boobs. So that was the end of that. I headed home. He told me to let him know the next time I was going to be in the city. Um, sure.
Later that night, in what I can only surmise was an extremely misguided attempt to rectify the situation and get me interested in a second date, C sent me several texts vividly describing how he was going to kiss my neck, nibble my ear, caress my thigh, etc. Because, you know, even though I wasn’t into it in person, I’d be wicked turned on reading about it via iMessage. Once again, C was surprised when I responded and told him I wasn’t feeling it. I wish I could say I hadn’t heard from C since then, but C is the gift that keeps on giving. He texted me a few weeks ago because he was bored in his research lab and wanted me to send him “dirty, dirty” pictures of myself. Not just dirty. Dirty, dirty.