The Date from Hell

"Hadn't you made all the decisions before we met? For Giorgio's?" she asked me with a very accusing stare.

"I did not force anything. I only suggested. As you see, I was fine with us not going there. We are not at Giorgio's now, are we?"

"No, but we would be if I didn't say otherwise." she said.

"Yes. If I suggested it and you had no counter-suggestion or problem with the place, I suppose we would end up there. And where is the problem with that?" I asked.

"You immediately had to have made all the decisions. I was just to follow like a quiet little woman behind whatever you decided to do. That's the problem. You never asked. You just went ahead and planned. Not asking me." she said.

"OK, guilty as charged, I admit." I replied. "However, there is a very good excuse for that, and none that I make up. Social norms which were taught to me by women, potential or actual dates, were that I was to be prepared if I wanted the date to go well - and to prevent any foregone conclusions, I mean to just pass a nice evening with a woman, not necessarily have sex with her, not even see her a second time. Just having a nice evening together, only that. When we talked earlier today, you did not inform me of your plans, you did not inform me of any such decision from your part. In all such cases I invariably was the one to *have* to be prepared, or else. If you wanted otherwise, all you had to do was to tell me. I didn't ask because I used to do that in the past and women automatically took me to be a wimp, so I decided it is best to be pro-active, flexibly so though. Since you didn't tell me anything, the presupposed normal due to our social norms took over. In my defense, I have to say that I did not dictate the evening. I only suggested, and as you see, we are not at my suggestion - I do admit that this is a fine place indeed, I am cool with it."

"Oh, so now is the bad society that made you do things, and us women who forced your hand all these years, oh you poor man!" she continued, doing a bad motherly imitation.

OK, I've had it. This was the proverbial bottomless pit. You go down, and there is more 'down' to go, no matter how down you are.

"Alice, I just suggested. I didn't make you accept it. You were so much more forceful with your planning than me. You wanted elsewhere, I got us elsewhere. I suggested, you had already decided differently, and I decided to affirm your decision. I could have not affirmed it, couldn't I?"

"Yes, but where would that get you?" she asked.

"You tell me." I said, gesturing towards her.

"I would go back to my sweet little home and you would be in yours, and this would happily not have happened!" she said with a smirk.

Happily, huh? Damn straight!

"True. I agree. That is exactly what would have happened." I concurred.

Silence.

"Also," I continued, "so that you know, for the door thing, I never thought that you were weak. To be honest, the only thing I did was do as I was taught from a young age. By my mom, if you would like to know."

"Of course. Who else!" she said with obvious dismissal. Not good at all, Alice. Mom is off limits. especially to someone like you.

"Although I get a very peculiar connotation there, about a sacred person in my life, I will temporarily ignore it. Yes, my sweet mom taught me to always be kind to women and respect them. She taught me that women are very strong people at times, weak at other times, just like we men are. But women bring us into the world and devote a large part of their lives for us, either as mothers or as significant others, so we must always cherish them, love them, respect them and help them were we can. Physically they *may* be weaker than us in brute force strength (not all cases of course), but they have other attributes that can beat me personally to smithereens, if not most men out there. So we help each other out. And kindness is always welcome, as she used to tell me. Mind you, it doesn't even extend only to women. I do the same whenever I see anyone in a situation when they would need help. But I wouldn't open a door for a man without a helping connotation, we would both find it peculiar, to be honest. Another social norm? Yes, and I did not invent it." I said, shrugging.

Her face was almost apathetic.

"Also," I continued, "she taught me to help her. She wanted my help with the groceries, she appreciated me opening doors for her. So I learned to do that. She liked it and I liked doing it for her, because she appreciated it. And all I wanted was to make her happy." I said in all honesty.

"Well, your mother is obviously not a woman of out times. Things were different in her time." she said with an almost ironical face.

"What are you talking about? Have you met her? Did you know her and can reach conclusions like that about a person you don't know?" I asked angrily.

"Well, how old is she?" she asked in a defiant manner.

I was pretty furious by now.

"No, I won't discuss her age with you, Alice. None of your business."

"Of course!" she exclaimed with sarcasm.

At that precise moment, the waiter came with our drinks. I went for my wallet.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Paying the man. What else?"

"So that's it? You are leaving?"

"You truly have to ask? Of course I am leaving! There is no purpose to all this. Don't you want to leave too?" I asked, somewhat surprised.

"Even so, did I ever tell you that you can pay for my drinks?" she asked venomously.

"What? When did I... Oh Lord, OK. Do I really have to 'mansplain' this in front of the poor waiter?" I asked in an exasperated manner. "OK then, mansplaining it is. We, men, pay the first date as yet another social norm. However, I fully understand that you are not a fan of these norms, so I pretty much knew from quite some time now that we would go Dutch. Each their own. So it is to my understanding that I pay for mine, you pay for yours." I answered. "Am I wrong?"

"Well, I brought you here, therefore I will pay for the drinks." she said with a finality that just made me want to strangle her then and there.

"No Alice. I will pay for mine, you pay for yours. I don't want you to pay for my drinks."

"I insist."

"I insist more."

"No Rob, I will pay."

OK, that's it.

"Alice: You. Will. Not. Pay. For. My. Drinks. Waiter, please take this card for mine and please deduce 10$ for tips as well." I told the waiter who watched the whole show as dumbfounded as humanly possible.

Alice did the same. The waiter thanked us and went to the cashier's, while we stood there in sulking silence. When the waiter came back, he gave us our respective cards. I put mine in the wallet, and drank the whole thing bottoms up. She just left hers untouched.

"I am ready to leave now. Shall I take you home?" I asked her. No matter how shitty the date, a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.

"No thanks. I will take an Uber." she said.

"OK then. Take care." I said and left. She didn't say anything to me, and I really didn't give a shit by that time. Just walked to my car to go home. My stomach was in knots. I hadn't had an attack of negativity of this magnitude, ever in my life from a prospective date.

What a fucking disaster. Joyce, boy oh boy...

---------

Next day at the coffee shop.

"Joyce, I truly don't want to talk about it."

"Come on Rob! Tell me what happened?"

"You have probably heard a story from your friend. You know me well all these years, so you can decide for yourself. I don't want to elaborate. The only thing I will tell you is, you sure as hell know how to pick'em!" I said, drinking a sip.

"You realize you were made for each other!" she joyously said.

"You realize you are delusional." I answered back.

"Well, Rob, your words matched hers down to a 't'. It is so funny it ain't funny any more. She said 'it was the date from hell. You sure know how to pick'em, Joyce.' Even your words match! Its uncanny!"

"I can see it is so much fun for you. I am telling you that it was no fun for me. It was, by far, the worst of all the dates I have ever had. All forty-something minutes of it anyway."

Joyce was amused. But she was decided on it.

"Rob, you may not believe me when I say this, but she is your wife. She is the mother of your children."

"If I wanted children with a demon, yeah, sure!" I countered with a smile.

She started laughing.

"Hell," I continued, "if I wanted to have children with a demon, it would be easier to baptize them in holy sanctified water and make them bishops in the catholic church than keep the date with your friend lasting for more than an hour."

She couldn't contain laughing, and I had to laugh with her. After she got her wits back, she asked me.

"I want the truth. Did you find her beautiful?"

"You are kidding me now, Joyce?"

"No, I am truly asking you."

"You mean, if I find her exterior beautiful? Because you know my opinion about her interior, right?" I smirked.

"Yes I know it, although it is totally off-base. Her exterior?" she asked.

"Divine. She is easily the most beautiful female I have ever seen in my life, present company excepted of course." I said in full honesty.

"Rob, I know how I look and thanks for the good manners, but Alice is built like a cross betwen a supermodel and a softcore porn actress, you know, the ones that you see and want to have sex with the screen, and I am a woman myself." she said, and it was my turn to laugh. "I know that we are not from the same universe, but you are a sweetheart. Anyway, did you find her not mentally fit for you?" she asked me back.

"If you mean stupid, hell no. She is smart as a whip. However, her mental state I do find problematic. She is so defensive against men in general that I think it is pretty pitiful actually. I can understand that she is so beautiful that she has been getting flanked by men all day long during her whole life, and it would end up being tiring or worse. But her past experiences are not my fault. I tried to make her feel well, but she basically poured all her frustration with men and her chronic man-hate on me. She basically fought me from the start, and I know that I am a pretty easy-going guy. I am not God's gift to women or anything, but I don't think I am a hard person to be around. You know me. Well, she made me hate every minute of it. It was pure torment." I answered.

"Funny thing is that she basically said the same thing about you. That you look good, are very intelligent, but it was torment!" she informed me.

"Joyce, you know me. I don't enjoy making other people's lives hell. She came ready for war, and I didn't even want to fight. Everything about her from the point she entered my car to the time I left that place, it was in the trenches." I replied.

"This is so... jejune. The whole thing. Rob, I am saying this to you, once again. She is the one. For you. The perfect woman. You will love her, you will cherish her and have a family with her. It's her, I tell you!" she exclaimed.

"Oh stop it, Joyce. There is absolutely zero chance of that happening. And I mean total zero, not zero-ish. Zero, period. Never gonna happen!" I answered.

"OK, OK. But be careful what you say, 'cause I will be reminding you at your wedding anniversary!" she said with her signature singing voice.

"With the she-devil?" I mock-asked.

"Hahaha! Yes, with her. With my dearest friend Alice!" she said.

"When hell freezes over!" I retorted.

"OK Rob!" she said with her singing voice and I wanted to strangle her, or kiss her. I love her so much, but sometimes she is a total pain in the ass.

"Anyway," she continued, "are we on for tonight at the Deuces? George is excited to be out for a change, after all this work."

"Work it definitely was!" I replied, "We killed our butts to get things working and on time. But it's over now. Yeah, George and yours truly, both deserve a night on the town."

"Great! We'll meet there tonight!"

"Great!"

And I left to go home to rest and prepare for the night out.

---------

"Goddammit, Rob, we screwed ourselves silly working, but it was worth it! Cheers motherfucker!" said George, holding his glass for a toast.

"Cheers asshole! Cheers Joyce!" I tactfully replied.

"Hahahaha! Cheers both!" Joyce said in her singing voice that we all loved. And we happily gulped our drinks.

"Rob, You didn't tell me, what happened with that chick, Alice?" asked George.

"As if you didn't know, George. As Alice herself told your dearest wife, it was the date from hell. I believe I couldn't have said it better myself. Exquisite phrasing, very true too."

"She is one hot babe, for sure now, ain't she?" exclaimed George. Joyce playfully slapped his arm.

"No doubt about that, brother. But she seemed really pissed off that I own a dick!" I said, and laughed.

"Stop it you two! She is my friend, and you are talking out of your ass, Rob. I am telling you, she is your wife!" said Joyce.

"Only a collaborative effort between Jesus H. Christ and Lucifer himself could make a husband and wife out of us two!" I said, and we all laughed.

Joyce opened her eyes.

"Speak of the devil..." she said, looking behind me.

"I just spoke of... What?" I asked.

Before I could finish she started waving towards the entrance, which was to my back. I turned my head and, lo and behold, the demoness. She must have been smiling before, but as soon as she saw me, she froze. So did I.

"Alice, get your butt over here!" said an overjoyed Joyce. Shit.

She hesitantly came towards us.

"Hi Joyce. Hi George."

Silence. Well, fuck that.

"Hi Alice." I said to her.

"Rob." she half-nodded.

"...yes, that's my name..." I mumbled.

Silence again. Awkward silence.

"How are you doing?" I asked.

"OK." she said. If hell froze, she would be at the coldest corner. Not that I blame her though, feelings were definitely mutual.

Silence again. She wouldn't even ask how I am, out of courtesy. Well, fuck this.

"I am going to the men's room." I said to nobody in particular and got off my chair, to go where I said I would. In a few minutes I was back, and she was not there, to my relief. I sat down.

"She gone?" I asked.

"Yes. She is over there, with her friends." Joyce said before I had a chance to look myself. Not that I was going to look anyway.

"If you want her here, I will leave, no problem." I told her.

"No, no, you stay put. What is the matter you two? Blinded people you both are!" said an exasperated Joyce. For some reason she believed that shit. We couldn't stand each other. What was she thinking? I didn't even know if she was behind this 'accidental reunion', but even if she was, who cares?

We continued talking in a light-hearted manner, even under the presence of Alice somewhere in the premises. Joyce frequently got up and talked to her and returned afterwards. Her face was not easy to read. After about an hour, a darts game started, and George and I went to play. So did the She-devil, two of her female friends and a big guy that probably had the hots for her. As if I gave a shit.

Now, darts, that is George's game. Yeah, I am OK, but George is a champ. I swear he can hit dead center blindfolded and from another state. His darts are GPS-guided missiles, and it is all just natural to him. I never got to understand how he did it, and I have some experience with guns and sights and targeting and all that, if I may say so myself.

Anyway, the game started, and it was pretty clear that George was going to be the best of the lot. For the second place, it was between me, the big guy and the she-devil. She was good, I have to hand her than. But, regretfully I was better. I was better than the big guy too. George was beyond us all, so no competition there. But I was for second. Alice didn't take it well. Nor did the big guy.

"You are closer to the target than you should be. You should be disqualified!..." muttered the she-devil.

"Lighten up, Alice. This is no official championship, just a game of darts in a club. And no, I am not in illegal positioning. Actually I am a bit further than usual." I responded, keeping my cool.

"If the lady says you are illegal, you are illegal!" said the big piece of shit that ogled 'my future wife', as Joyce said. What kind of drugs she was taking, I would really like to know.

"So what, she is a referee now?" I asked back.

"To you she is." he said, openly challenging me.

What the fuck is this? She bring that asshole and think that she can bully me through him? I can wipe the fucking floor with his big fat lard ass. But then, who do I vindicate? The bitch. Well, fuck that, it ain't worth it.

"You know what? Fuck this. I resign. Welcome to second place." I told her and left.

"What's the problem? Afraid, are we?" she taunted me.

George caught the conversation to his utter astonishment. He couldn't believe what he just witnessed.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Alice? He is perfectly legal. What is this shit? Why are you doing this? And what is that shit about him being afraid? Who would he be afraid of? You?" he asked her.

"No. Me." said the big pile of dunk.

"You have no idea what you are talking about, man, absolutely no idea at all. You are very lucky that this guy" - pointing at me - "isn't in the mood to take this the way he normally would. Thank your lucky stars. Alice, I don't believe this. I have known you for a long time. This is... this is total bullshit. I am very disappointed in you. You know what? I am out too. Enjoy first and second place both of you. Well deserved. Let's go Rob. Not worth it."

And he guided me to our table.

---------

Even Joyce couldn't believe it.

"I am so sorry, Rob. This is so unlike her. This is not the Alice I know, please believe me."

"Well, Joyce, it is the only Alice I know. Now that George has seen it, I hope you believe me too."

"Yes, I do..." Joyce said, one of the few times she had the contemplative look. I had only seen this look when she and George had fights, A very rare occurrence. "Still, I cannot combine what I know about this girl with this attitude. She is independent and all that and sometimes she can be competitive to the point of being combative, I know, but... This is so unlike her. It is as if she is..."

"She is what?" asked George.

"...antagonizing Rob? But why would she be so defensive? Why would she feel the need to be petty and antagonizing?... Oh my God..." she said, as if she found her unique Eureka moment.

"What, Joyce?" asked George, a bit exasperated.

"She likes him!! She likes you Rob! That's why!" she said with so much enthusiasm I was almost going to believe her. Yeah right.

"Don't you see? She is being a shit because she doesn't know how to act around you! She likes you and you destabilize her! She is not used to not having control, and she reacts in a childish manner because she literally feels lost. She likes you! Of course she does! I love to be right! Yay!" exclaimed Joyce with a megawatt smile of victory.

"Yay myself" I said half-mocking her outrageous theories. But they, if anything, are designed to make me feel good about feeling like shit. Which I wouldn't need to feel like if I hadn't met the she-devil in the first place. Talking about circular arguments from hell.

"If she reacts like that liking me, what would she do if she hated me?" I asked out of curiosity.

"Rob, I understand you don't get women. She likes you, and you are truly blessed to have found each other!" she responded with vigor.

"Joyce, you know I love you more than life itself. However, I think you are mental." said George, looking at her lovingly. She looked him back the same way.

"Amen, brother!" I exclaimed.

He was about to kiss her when we heard a commotion in the back.

"I said no! I don't want to go with you! Leave me alone!" said a female voice.