Jun 23

Written by: michaela renee
6/23/2009 1:07 PM

Therapist: 10pm for a first date?

Me: Well, on his profile it said he was “in school” so I understood when he said he “had class” and couldn’t meet up until 10pm.

Therapist: I guess that’s fair, trying to fit a dating life while working a day job and extending his education, nothing wrong with that.

Me: Right. So he said it was night classes downtown. I immediately phoned a few friends to find out what kind of classes were downtown.

Therapist: Hmmm.

Me: Well, my friends thoroughly convinced me that he was probably in night school for his law degree. So I’m thinkin, “Score!“ and willing to accommodate this whole late date deal.

Therapist: Law degree does not equate to excellent suitor. But I concur the education is a good start.

Me: So I pull up to his house at around 9:45pm and realize, it’s the exact condo I almost leased last July.

Therapist: What a coincidence.

Me: Sure, except that he told me he owned his condo. So once I got inside I asked him again, when he moved in, and he said about seven months ago, so immediately I knew he was renting it and lying.

Therapist: Strike 1.

Me: No doubt. So he gives me a tour and I bit my tongue about the whole “you’re a liar” thing and he opens a bottle of wine. We move over to the couch to chat and I ask him how his class was. All of a sudden he leaps from the couch and says, “Do you really want to know?”

Therapist: And you said “of course” I hope.

Me: I did. So he says “great” and goes running into the office.

Therapist: Odd.

Me: He comes back with a stack of papers and I‘m thinking oh my God, it‘s some forty page homicide case and I‘m going to have to hear the entire defense.

Therapist: (laughing) So maybe marrying a lawyer isn‘t for you.

Me: But then he opened his mouth and everything went downhill. He hands me a “script” and says he’s an “aspiring actor.”

Therapist: OH NO.

Me: It gets worse, then he says he wants to role play the scene they worked on in class with me, and he adds, “it‘s a love scene, and the female lead is about ten years younger than you, so you‘ll really have to get into character for this to work.”

Therapist: (laughing)

Me: So, I’m appalled but I’ve still got three quarters of a glass of wine left. So I take a really big gulp and tell him “I’m shy and that I don’t really think I’ll do well.” But then he asked, “wait, didn’t you just come performing a song at a karaoke bar with your friends?” Busted.

Therapist: Kind of hard to back out of that one.

Me: So I take another gulp of wine and start scanning the script. He’s super excited and yammering on about the background of the scene, but I wasn’t really listening because I quickly start to realize it’s totally this heated-make out-love scene. Before I flip the page he’s literally on top of me on the couch delivering his lines with the eloquence of an infomercial voice-over. “Oh, Oh…How do I say? I feel so. So much. In my soul. Your body. It's warm.”

Therapist: What a creep!

Me: So I ripped his pants off and showed him how you finish a sex scene.

Therapist: NO YOU DIDN’T.

Me: Of course I didn’t! I used brute force to throw him off of me and then launched myself across the room. I dropped to my knees like a psycho and threw my hands towards the sky. In utter dying agony with complete melodrama and in my best Shakespearean voice, I began the Juliet monologue I learned in college.

“Thou knowest the mask of night is on my face;
Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek
For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night.
Fain would I dwell on form -- fain, fain deny
What I have spoke; but farewell compliment!
Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay';
And I will take thy word. Yet, if thou swear'st,
Thou mayst prove false. At lovers' perjuries,
They say Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,
If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully.”

Therapist: IMPRESSIVE!

Me: And then I told him that I loved him so much, his acting skills were incredible and I wanted to have his baby, while pounding the last of the red wine in my glass. He stood up, jaw still on the ground, walked to the door, opened it and said, “We’ll have to try another night Juliet, I’m exhausted.”

I yelled “classic…timeless classic” as I grabbed my purse and let the door to his leased condo hit my ass on the way out.

Copyright ©2009 Michaela Renee

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