Dating Story #10 - The Little Velvet Box
This one is about Mr. Perfect. It's kind of hard to be amusing about Mr. Perfect, but I will give it a whirl. I think it will ellicit more of a "NO WAY" reaction rather than a "HAHAHA" reaction. We will see...
The first guy I ever honestly loved was a guy from college. I was only 17 when I went to college. He was 23. We got together and I was totally and utterly lovestruck. He was studying to be an electrical engineer, but what he really wanted to do was mission work in Russia. We went to church together, and also Inter-Varsity Christian Fellowship, which is where we met.
I'd never before been in love, and it was such a magical time for me. He had dated a bunch of people -- he was so "my type". Dorky, smart, goofy sense of humor, into science... you know. My type. He was also amazingly, breath-takingly romantic, and anyone who knows me very well knows I am a total and utter sap. Romantic gestures, even now, just turn me to utter mush. He really knew how to tap into that side of me. It wasn't very long at all before I was completely lost in love.
Of course, I missed some signs that things were amiss. Mr. Perfect (as I thought he was) had a thing for ... well, let's just say I don't think that people in church would have approved of some of the media stored on his computer. He had a very misanthropic side, and honestly, I was a bit too young and inexperienced to really fully realize the scope of Mr. Perfect's problems. When he talked about his obsession with Morticia Addams, feet, and vampires, I really didn't think too much of it. After all, my dad had played Dungeons and Dragons for most of my life, and that sort of thinking really went along with Mr. Perfect's. I supposed everyone sort of had a fetish -- me with beautiful teeth, Mr. Perfect with feet and women who looked dead. As time went by, there was subtle pressure on me to change. I was short and fat, my hair far too red. So I dyed it dark dark brown. My feet were unappealing because they were wide. I did change as much as I could.
Time went by, and we ended up living in adjacent apartment buildings. After about a year together, Mr. Perfect asked me to dinner. He said we should go out for a nice dinner, and I was thrilled. I lived on my own then, and worked THREE jobs. I didn't have much money, but I scraped together enough for a beautiful new dress and some shoes to match. He'd chosen The Library Restaurant in Portsmouth, and I was thrilled -- it was a great place. So, the day arrived, and I gussied up. He was supposed to pick me up at 4pm after he got out of class. 4pm rolled around, and no boyfriend. 4:30, and I called his house. No answer. 5pm, 6pm, 7pm... honestly I was really worried.
I took my phone and I went outside. I sat in that beautiful silk dress, beneath the big tree between our apartment buildings, and I waited, worried. All sorts of terrible scenarios ran through my mind. It seemed inconceivable that he'd miss our date without even calling. He knew how much I'd sacrificed for it, and he knew how much I was looking forward to it.
At around midnight, I saw the light go on in his room. I waited a minute, but my phone didn't ring, so I called him. He picked up.
"Oh my lord, where have you been?!" I nagged. "I was worried sick about you!"
"Well," he began, and I could hear excitement in his voice, "I had to change plans. Come over! I have something to show you!"
"Fine," I snapped, and headed over. I had grass stains on my silk.
I knocked, and he opened the door, letting me in. He took me to his room, and we sat on the bed. I was less than charitable.
"You could have called me! I was so worried, and we had plans and you totally stood me up!" I was a much angrier, crankier soul then.
"I know sweetheart, but something awesome came up and I had to go do that. Here," he said, reaching into his jacket pocket. "I got something that goes in this."
He had a small, black velvet box in his hand. My heart stilled in my chest.
This is it! my mind screamed. He got a ring! Oh my GOSH I can't believe I was such a jerk! Oh wow, do I look really evil now!
Ever so slowly, he opened the box, and my eyes were already filled with tears. I looked down at the box, and inside...
... was nothing.
I was puzzled, and it was obvious. That's when he grinned, and I saw that he had... prosthetic fangs? I blinked.
"I managed to get a last minute appointment with a dentist to get fangs made, so I did that instead! Aren't they awesome?! He colored them to exactly match my teeth!"
"You... you stood me up to... to get... fangs?" I asked. I was plainly hurt.
"Aren't they great?!"
"I... well I'm glad you're excited."
"Can I try them out on you?" he asked.
"Excuse me?"
"Can I bite you?"
"BITE me?!" I was aghast.
"Yeah!"
"I need to go," I blurted, and fled.
Even to this day, I wonder what the churchies would have though if they knew he liked bondage pictures, pretending to be a vampire, and watching the foot scene in Pulp Fiction over and over and over again like it was a porno? I don't know what they would have said, but thankfully he dumped me because I was too boring.
THANK GOD for being dull!