Bizarre OCD Date

I agreed to a date with a guy I met online, and we decided to go to my favorite Indian restaurant, which happened to be just a few blocks from his house. When I woke up the morning of our date, I felt lousy, like I was coming down with a bad cold. I forged on, thinking it would be rude to cancel our plans so close to our date. On my way to the restaurant, I got a call from "Romeo," informing me that the aforementioned Indian restaurant was closed, would I mind meeting him somewhere else? Being the trooper that I am, I said sure, no problem, and we met at a local diner. I walked into the diner, and looked around for the guy from the pictures he had sent me online. I didn't see him. As my luck would have it though, the ugliest guy in the place recognized me from my pictures. Imagine Spencer Abraham's head (former Michigan Senator) placed on Dilbert's body, and you will know what this guy looks like (apparently, the pictures were from 5 years ago … and of his cousin). Again, being the trooper that I am, I resist the urge to act like I don't know him and walk out. We take our seats and, after looking at the menu, decide we'll have breakfast. This is where the real fun begins. My Romeo seems incredibly nervous. I say this because he is fidgeting CONSTANTLY. Playing with his silverware. Ripping napkins apart. Taking the lids off the salt and pepper shakers. Touching his face and ears repeatedly, and then starting all over again ... silverware, napkins, shakers, face. It was some kind of bizarre OCD ritual. I was calculating when he might start picking his nose. Apparently, he didn't have to do that, because his nose was actually quite runny. He took care of that by wiping his nose on his sleeve. Not a napkin that he had previously torn up, nor from the dispenser on the table. Nope. His sleeve. Wow....what a sexy turn-on that was. At one point, he even reached across the table to fiddle with my silverware and take my napkin. I carefully moved them out of his reach. He was not deterred. He began fiddling with the lid on the sugar container ... yes, the little teeny-tiny lid on the opening of the sugar container. Yes, the sugar that I was using to sweeten the hot tea I was drinking for my head cold. Now I realize that the actual cleanliness of any of these items is questionable, but to watch someone mindlessly defile them repeatedly? It was disgusting. I was elated when the waitress brought our food ... yeah! The halfway point ... I was almost free. We talked about what we did for a living, what we did for fun, and our family. This was when Mr. Romance brought out his big guns. It turns out that Romeo's idea of big fun consisted of a long night watching TV, either at his house or his brothers, and that he just doesn't get out much (gee, I'm not sure why). He asks about my family, and while talking about my father, I mention that he was a police officer, and my brother is an officer now also. He asks if my dad is retired now, and I say, "No, he passed away when I was 15." Instead of the standard sympathetic remark normal people reply with, Mr. Romance asks, "was it the donuts?" I was so shocked that he was making such an insensitive remark about such a horrible experience in my life, I just sat there, stunned. He stopped chuckling at his little joke when he noticed that I was not laughing along with him, and then made a lame apology about what a "faux pas that was." Yes, a faux pas to say the least. Our time together came to an awkward end outdoors at our cars, where I found out that he was also several inches shorter than his reported 5'10". Romeo asked if I would like to attend his company Christmas party with him. I'm a good girl. I didn't laugh my ass off until after I got into my car. I simply said, "no thanks, I'm really busy over the holidays." And no, I did not shake his hand or hug him goodbye. What for? I was already coming down with a cold!

— Carla, 35

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