The Date from Hell

After a few months time, I had enough. I knew for a fact that we agreed on most things, and whenever we had disagreements, we talked them through. It was as ideal of a relationship as can be, except the fact that Maybellene could easily prove to be Nick the Dick pulling my leg to laugh with his friends, or a bunch of kids pretending to be a woman. Well, the truth is that I kind-of trusted it to be a woman, as she did really sound like one, but, hell! No name, no face, no nothing. It started being pretty annoying as a reality. This woman, if it actually was a woman to begin with, was so much like me that it was crazy. I had started to have feelings for her, thinking about her every day, and I didn't know if I was romancing a beauty or Butch the butcher down the street. It was hilarious and totally embarrassing, but pretty heavy in the same time.

I decided to talk about this to Joyce. She just laughed at my predicament, and simply told me to ask Maybellene out. I thought about it, and decided that I had not much to lose. I mean I did enjoy Maybellene's company, but this could not go on for ever. Eventually, we would have to shit or get off the pot, one way or another. So I send a message to her, saying "I think it's high time we met. What do you think?"

I didn't get a reply that day. Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. It could just end up being yet another one down the drain. But this one for some reason stang a bit. I sincerely hoped she would want to meet.

Turns out I worried for nothing. Next day a message saying "Ok, let's meet!" adorned with all sorts of rainbows, unicorns and hearts and shit, appeared on my phone. I was instantly a very happy lad, which in itself mildly surprised me - meaning how happy of a lad I was. I asked her where, and she asked about my favorite place. I said Giorgio's. She said yes. And I had a date with Genie.

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I was nervous as hell, but in a very nice anticipatory mood, waiting for Maybellene at the restaurant. But as time passed and she was nowhere in sight, I started losing my mood. I figured there was a chance she would bail out in the end and I started feeling bummed accordingly, when I felt someone's eyes on me. Joyce's. Imagine my surprise.

"Joyce? What are you doing here?" I asked.

"Hi Rob. Can I sit?" she asked, visibly nervous.

"I am waiting for Gen... I mean Maybellene, as you know. But she hasn't come yet, so yes, please do sit down." I said, showing her the seat. She complied.

"Rob, I... there is something you need to know..." she said.

"What?" I asked.

"It involves Maybellene..." she said.

Oh shit.

I am waiting for Maybellene and Joyce arrives? The genie that I only saw once and never again? It did look like the general shape of Joyce, but... could it be her? No, the genie I remember was almost my height, but I was in a happy semi-drunk state at the time. Could it be her? Could I be blinded to that extent? Could Joyce think I am such a fucking loser as to play me like this? But Joyce was my goddamned friend! I trusted her with everything!

"OK, Joyce, spit it out. Were you pulling my leg at the party? Are you her?" I asked, visibly shaken.

"...w...what? Me? Maybellene? Oh, no, no!" she answered, as surprised as I was.

"Joyce, please tell me the truth, OK? You and George are my best friends goddammit, I have a right to know!" I said, a bit more forcefully than I intended to. "Are you Maybellene? Are you the Genie?"

"Oh, no! No, Rob! No, I am not Maybellene or the Genie! I am married to your best friend! I would never do that! How could you think..."

"Come on, Joyce. I deserve to know the truth. If it wasn't you, then who is Maybellene? And how come I only saw her once, and you conveniently saw her when I went asleep? And she hasn't shown her face to me? Or her real name?" I asked her.

"She is not Maybellene, Rob" came from a very distinct female voice behind me.

Shit. I knew that voice. My very blood froze in my veins and arteries.

"Alice?" I asked, and looked behind me. And there she was, in all her impossibly beautiful, evil glory.

"What are you doing here?" I asked her.

"I am Maybellene. I am the Genie. I believe I am your date." she said. Her face, a mixture of apprehension and poker-face, if possible on any human.

Talking about shocked was I.

"You knew about this?" I asked Joyce. She looked at me with a very guilty look and nodded.

I couldn't believe it. Betrayed by my very best friend.

"I can't believe this. You set this up!" I said to her. "How could you?"

"Rob, please, let me explain..." started Alice.

"No. I don't want to hear your explanations. You know my opinion of you very well, no need to reiterate. The question is what opinion I will have of the best female friend I've ever had, until today that is." I said.

"Rob, please, hear me out." said Alice.

"I am not talking to you! I asked Joyce! I want her answers on this!" I answered pretty abruptly.

"Rob, please, please allow me to explain. Please, let me explain all this to you!" implored Alice.

"I think I have made my position on you crystal clear a few months ago, if you remember." I told Alice in no uncertain terms. Her eyes started moistening.

"Yes, I remember. I am a self-entitled bitch, a fucking piece of shit and I completely disgust you. But did the Genie disgust you? Did Maybellene? Please be honest!" she said.

"Honest? Ha! Very good one. You dare ask for honesty? What? As honest as you? Or my supposed best friend here?" I answered, dripping venom. "Joyce, I swear to God, this will be our undoing. Our friendship all these years will go down the drain, if you have done what I now believe you have done. Please, please tell me that what I believe you have done is not true!" I implored her.

Joyce was crying. I was ready to cry too. Alice was ready to fall apart. I was ready to strangle both of them with my own two hands. I had a full category-five tornado blowing towards all directions in my head. I started feeling sick.

"I... I need to go. I am sorry..." I uttered.

I left the restaurant in a haze. I don't know what state Joyce or Alice were in. I was hanging for deal life. I was barely able to drive home. I turned every phone off, and I went to bed, asleep in seconds due to the exhaustion of the shock.

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I woke up next morning, having a very heavy head, and an even heavier heart. I couldn't believe this. My best female friend had royally fucked me. She had schemed with the she-devil and played me together for weeks on end. She probably orchestrated the whole thing. And why did she do it? Probably because of her hair-brained idea that me and Alice are meant to be together.

On the other hand, I do have to admit that Maybellene seemed like the ideal woman. I mean, we clicked on so many levels, at least I thought so from our chats. She truly was a person that I was looking forward to talking to every day, even if I was just talking to an avatar. I didn't know who was behind Maybellene, but if it truly was Alice, then what Joyce said was true. Alice truly was my soulmate.

The problem is that I knew Alice in person, and she was not Maybellene. She was a total, complete psycho bitch. A feminazi from the worst recesses of hell. There was no way I could coalesce Maybellene with Alice into one person. They were polar opposites. Except if Alice was indeed schizophrenic, in which case she had one identity as Alice, the feminazi, and the other as Maybellene. Of course that could easily be Alice the prankster who had a great laugh on me. Together with my best female friend in the whole wide world, Joyce.

I had to make a decision here. Either they both played me for laughs, or this was actually real. If it was for laughs, then all the great feelings I had for Joyce were for nothing. I was just a fucking schmuck. She played me and laughed her tits off. But George is my best friend, at least there is no doubt about that. Right?

On the other hand, if she truly believed that Alice and I were the perfect match, and for some reason Alice had blown everything sky-high, as was exactly what happened, she might have tried to salvage the unsalvageable, for both our sakes. From what I knew about her, this seemed more in tune with what I knew. Or with what I wanted to believe. A totally hair-brained idea for sure, but at least an honest one. This fit the Joyce I knew better. But was that Joyce real? Had she ever been, all these years?

Oh shit, why did she have to play me like that? Now I doubted everything. Even my friendship with George. All those years for nothing. How more fucked up could this be?

In the end, I reached the point to have to decide for myself if I believed scenario A or B. If I believed she did all this to bring us together after the monumental fuck-up from Alice, or if she just did it because I misjudged her and thought the best out of a very sick and convoluted person. The problem is that nothing that I knew thus far about Joyce made her such a person. She was the most caring person I knew about, bar none. But then, why did she not care enough about ME not to play me?

Maybe she thought that my eventual happiness was more important than the temporary loss of sanity that she made me go through with her scheming. But what if I actually had a word on my own happiness, as to who is actually my better half, if there is such a thing anyway?

Or maybe she played me for laughs with her dear friend Alice. Who was Maybellene. Who was nothing like the Alice that I knew. Who actually was Maybellene, and the Genie in the party.

For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge. Fornication Under Consent of the King Flying Unstoppable Crossbow Knives. Whatever makes up F.U.C.K.

How come my supposed ideal woman was my absolute worst nightmare (and, even worse, vice versa), and my best female friend was a bigger schemer than Cardinal Richelieu?

What a royal, fucked up mess.

Oh Joyce. Joyce, goddamn it.

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I kept my phone turned off. I didn't want to have to talk to anyone, least of all Joyce. I also deactivated my Facebook account, blocked all incoming email in my email account and my work account, after I sent a message to George that I would be out of touch for a while. I basically decided to make myself scarce. At least for some time, until I get my shit together.

It was not meant to be.

Three days after the incident, just as I was ready to see the evening news, I heard a soft knock at the door.

I stayed quiet. The knocks persisted. I went to the door.

"Who is it?" I asked.

No answer.

"I said, who is this?" I asked more emphatically.

"It's me" a soft female voice answered.

What the actual fuck.

"Alice?"

"Yes. May I talk to you? Please?" she implored, behind my closed door.

"Go away, Alice. Leave me alone."

"Please Rob. Let me just see you this once. After I say all that I need to tell you, if you feel the same way, I promise I will never bother you ever again. I swear. Please..." she said, with a trembling voice.

I was fraught with mixed emotions. I was furious. I was compassionate. I was a big fucking mess. That's what I was.

In the end, I just decided to get it over with. I unlocked the door and opened it. There she was. In all her unbearable beauty. Her eyes moist, her mascara ruined by her tears.

Female tears. The nuclear weapon in the female arsenal in the war of the sexes. I just wasn't wired to let crying women keep crying. Fuck genetics, social norms, the whole fucking lot of them.

"Come in." I said, and stepped aside to let her in.

I showed her to the kitchen table.

"You want some coffee? I am afraid I don't have any Martini." I told her.

"Coffee is fine, thank you very much." she said timidly. This was not the Alice I knew. What the hell happened?

"If you need to... freshen up, please use the bathroom." I said, and showed her the way. She thanked me and proceeded, and after a while returned and sat down. I had already poured some coffee in two mugs, one for each of us.

"I do have to say that this is... unexpected." I said.

"I can only imagine..." she said.

I just looked at her. There was only one question for me to ask.

"Why?"

Her lips started quivering.

"I need to... ex-xplain my-myself..." is all she managed to say before starting to cry. An anguished, deep kind of crying. She was either the world's greatest actress, or a total psycho. Or just a woman in total distress. I honestly didn't know which of the three. And that pissed me off to no end.

My instinct told me to comfort her. My brain told me that this was a great way out for me, out of all this; all I had to do was to be cold and indifferent at that precise moment - she did deserve it anyway. I asked myself if I truly wanted to hear her out, or just send her on her way, out of my life for good. On the other hand, was this woman Maybellene? Or the bitch from hell? Do bitches from hell cry? I mean, really cry? From their soul? Do they have a soul to begin with? If not, can they fake one? Hell yeah they can! But is she one?

In the end, my genes made the decision for me. Call me a totally pussy-whipped clown. I just can't stand seeing a woman crying like that. It tears me apart in ways that are genetically programmed to fuck my spirit anally. And my spirit's ass I would like to keep a virgin territory, thank you very much.

I got off my chair, went to her and hugged her. She grabbed me as if her life depended on it. She wouldn't let go. She just let herself cry for what seemed like hours, but probably was just a few minutes. After she composed herself, she excused herself to go to the bathroom once again and re-freshen up, and return to the same position as before. And we stood there in mutual silence.

"Oh God, where do I start?..." she said.

"You know what they say. From the beginning, whatever that may be." I answered.

"You are so sweet, you know. You are the sweetest person I know, Rob." she said.

OK, that officially didn't make sense. Who is she and what did she do with the demoness?

"That is totally the opposite opinion from what I surmised at out date. I believe it was torture, a date from hell, as you told Joyce." I told her, and she flinched. "Please don't take this the wrong way; the feelings were completely mutual. It was similarly torture and the absolute worst date of my life as well." I said. "My problem, Alice, is that I cannot, for the life of me, reconcile this version of you with the version from the date, or the club. Maybellene and your version then are simply logically incompatible, impossible to coexist in the same person, except if said person hosts multiple personalities or some other exotic reason that I cannot even fathom. Are you one of those people, Alice?" I asked her.

Her face was momentarily hardened. But then she took a defeated expression.

"I guess I deserve that. I treated you like shit. I have never disrespected anyone in my life more than you that day." she said.

"Or later, at the club." I continued.

"That too." she agreed.

"Well then, help me understand, Alice. Please help me here, 'cause I truly don't understand a thing. I come back to my original question. Why? Why all this? Why did you treat me like that then? Why the Genie? Why Maybellene? Why... this? Why are you here?" I asked.

"Let me take it from the beginning." she answered. "There is something you need to know about me, Rob. Something that very few people know about me."

"OK. What?" I asked. She took a deep, long breath.

"I was raped." she said.

Shock.

"What? Oh my God..." I uttered, not really knowing what to say.

Shit.

It started making some made sense now. The ultra-defensive, passive-aggressive attitude. Her man-hate. Her antagonism of everything male. Her accusations. Her bossy behavior, as in an attempt to be better than the gender that so badly wronged her. It all started making sense. Horrible sense.

My feelings were all over the place. On the one hand, I had every right to despise her for the way she treated me, and for that scam with Maybellene. But this rape thing, was, I don't know how else to say this, on a whole other level; a very serious extra parameter. I started feeling bad for the way I treated her, although I knew that I was very justified. This truly left me at a loss for words. I didn't know what to feel. Besides the obvious, of course.

"Alice, I am so sorry for what happened to you." I said, in all honesty. "I truly don't know what to say..."

"My sweet Rob, I know you mean it. You are a heart of gold, a very sweet and remarkably patient man. You cannot believe how tormented I was for having put you through all that hell, once I realized what I had done, and to whom. Unfortunately, some things I cannot easily control. I am a damaged person, Rob. Deeply damaged." she continued. "You don't deserve damaged goods like me. Joyce was right you know, you were - no, are - the best, finest man I ever hoped to find. She was so right. And I did see the admiration in your face when you looked at me. And I panicked. I totally lost the Earth under my feet." she said.

"But you had already booked a place for us before you met me. You wanted to tank us anyway. Why?" I asked her.

"Actually I did this just a bit before you came. It is a defense I have learned to do in case the date turns out to be a predator of some sort - I choose the environment so that I have some control over what happens. Have you noticed that the whole way toward Giovanni's is through the city? If anything crazy happens, I can bolt out, and there are police everywhere. I always allow the date to say where they want to take me, and by that I can see if they want to take me somewhere that there is no civilization nearby. Predators do that. You did the same. But the minute I saw you, something cracked inside me. I knew on one hand that you probably weren't a predator, but on the other hand you chose as a predator would: the most seemingly romantic place, away from the city. So I had to know, and I decided to test you."

"Test me?" I asked. "You mean all the shit you put me through was a test?"

"Of course it was." she answered. "You think I didn't know what shit I put you through? Once I knew for a fact that you were a gentle, caring man that just thought romantically about me, and not some asshole rapist or something, I knew I had lost you. The roasting I did was misplaced, and it backfired against me bigtime. I knew I had already lost you once we started talking. I was rude in the car, very rude in the entrance of the restaurant, and after the grilling... I could see it in your eyes. You hated our date. And how could you not? But you see, I had to test you! I liked you, so I had to see for myself what kind of person you were. It was a very dumb tactic, but it kept me safe all these years, and only the most patient people could get through. But you know what? Patient doesn't equate good. They just wait and then they inflict damage. You, on the other hand, were the real deal. You couldn't know why you were being roasted, and of course you did not appreciate it at all, since you truly did not deserve any of that. And I could see that my usual tactic to protect myself had pretty much killed any possibility to have something meaningful with a guy that was actually worth a shot. I so much wanted to brand you as an asshole. You can't imagine the guilt and the remorse. You didn't deserve it..." she lamented.

I truly didn't know what to say. I was at a complete loss for words.

"You said you are not a rapist, nor a sexual predator." she continued. "I know, my dearest Rob. I know, because I have seen one. Actually I have seen three of them. For a whole weekend. They took turns on me, passing me from one to the other, sometimes together. They either raped me or gave me drugs, or beat me for fun. From Friday night till Monday morning. I counted the hours. They had been raping me for a total of 59 hours. 9 pm Friday up to 8 am Monday. I don't know how many times they had me. But I know every sex act doable to a woman from three men, all eager to enter her body in any way that presents itself. The bad thing is that I learned it not through love, but through rape. I was a virgin on Friday. I had no virginity left on Monday. They had taken my body. But the body can be fixed. What they did, is that they decimated my soul. They destroyed my spirit. They killed everything that I was till that day. They created a misanthropic shell of a person that only saw meaning in non-existence. My family couldn't get to me. They couldn't break my deathwish. I so much wanted to end myself..." she said.