# Hours Wake - 4
# Cups of Coffee - 3 1/2
# Bruises - 1 (Medium sized)
Just to cut you off at the start, this isn't a post about some episode of Blind Date involving flag-football. For those of you already hearing the sounds of Chumbawamba in your head, stop that right now. This story does not have a soundtrack.
For whatever reason, I don't go out on "dates" very often. Maybe it's because my friends don't set me up with people and when they do, I really wish they hadn't (Stories for another time). The whole concept of technical "dating" just takes it out of me right from the getgo and I end up just praying that we don't start discussing the weather at 9:00 on a Saturday night...in Los Angeles...indoors.
Regardless of my preconceived notions however, I decided to take the plunge and everything went well, rather well. I pick her up. We go to this great, mellow Italian restaurant and the conversation goes well. Brought up the weather one time but only as a joke...it went that well.
Three hours later, we drive back to her apartment where she proposes that I come in for a "bit." Being very ok with that, I agree.
Upon entering the apartment, we find her roommate's boyfriend and his buddy sitting at the kitchen table attired in suits and looking a little worse for the wear. They've just returned from a pre-wedding party so the "worse for the wear part" seems to make sense. I've met one of them a few days previous so we shoot the shit for a couple of minutes.
I want to note at this point that he neither mentions anything about what could potentially happen in the next couple of minutes nor does he explain why the roommate’s door is closed. To be fair, it didn't occur to me to ask but hindsight is just that.
Anyway, as we're still engaging in small talk, we haven't moved far from the door/entryway. (This fact will be in play shortly)
All of a sudden, the roommate’s door opens and I see a girl sitting on the edge of the bed crying behind a guy (I've never seen before) who is rapidly advancing towards the door.
In the next 5 seconds, I come up with what I assume to be the most logical explanation for what's going on. The guy who's walking this way is this girl’s boyfriend or ex-boyfriend and he just found out that she was cheating on him. I know, I have an overactive imagination but this seems to make enough sense for me in the allotted amount of time.
Out of respect for what I assume to be an unsuspecting guy who just trusted one girl too many, I look down at the floor as the temperature in the room dips considerably.
Now, he's about a foot away from me when I realize that his trajectory is aimed not at the door but rather, directly at me which is, needles to say, somewhat unexpected.
The next thing I know, I'm getting thrown up against one wall (which I slid off of) and then onto the one behind it. I think it was between walls that I came up with the other possibility that this could be the former boyfriend of the girl I took out which, just to make sense of it all, seems more and more plausible. Of course, she's been standing ten feet away and hasn't made a sound or made any attempt to move. On a side note, I think I find this more disturbing than the fact that I'm getting attacked by some guy I don't think I know after having had a three hour discussion on just about everything you can think of over a bottle of Concannon Pinot Noir, which is a really nice wine.
I think I'm pissing this guy off even more because I'm laughing in his face if for no other reason than that I'm really not expecting this to happen. To be honest, my initial thought right when he grabbed me was that he was going to hug me which would have been arguably more strange.
Putting all thinking aside, I'm able to remove his hands using the one move I retained from 3 months of Krav Maga training (thanks AJ) and the other two guys from the table (who have finally arrived, I think they stopped for a smoke on the way) and we are able to push him out the door.
So, the roommate's crying, the other girl from the room is crying, the two guys just stand there with strange looks on their faces, my "date" is still standing 10 feet away with no discernable look on her face and I'm giving the universal facial expression for WTF?
The "date" and I go into her room where 15 minutes later (I shit you not) I finally get told WTF.
It turns out that this guy, we'll call him DICK, was the brother of the roommate (umm, JEN) and he was drunk and trying to fight at the party. The other girl in the room was the other sibling (MARY, why not?).
They had brought him back there to calm him down and since he would not be calmed, he was kicked out of their apartment. I just happened to be not only in his line of vision at that exact moment but apparently, I was also wearing a similar jacket to the guy who had particularly pissed him off at the party.
Needles to say, the mood was somewhat destroyed so I decided to leave while reminding myself why I don't go on "dates."
Luckily, a friend was having a party down the street from my house and I went and immediately got really, really drunk.
-Shaques
