Ain’t Dating Just The Best?, Part 2

I’m also the author of this story, so let’s just get out of the way that yes, I have a weird dating life.

I meet a guy via a dating website and we get along quite well. We have three dates that all go pretty well, and I start to like him, though I’m cautious about any further advances he makes. (Turns out later that was probably my instincts warning me up front somehow.)

Before long, [Guy] invites me to what he describes as “a metal music festival for furries” at a town just across the German border. I think it’s a fun date idea — we’re both metalheads, for starters, and though I’m not into furry stuff myself, he has a pretty neat tiger fursona and I’m curious to see it — so I agree to go.

We book a hotel on the Dutch side of the border and head there first to drop off our stuff. I find out [Guy] didn’t bring his costume — which is odd since he was talking about showing it to me for days — but I think nothing much of it.

On the way there, [Guy] has a CD playing by a band that I only slightly tolerate, and it repeats about five times during the ride. I’m slightly annoyed, but I’m not going to be the passenger DJ, so I’ll cope.

An hour and a half after we pass the border, we finally arrive at a tiny town, at a party venue that is no more than a converted barn. The “festival” only has one cover band playing and about fifty people in attendance. But sure, the vibes are so far so good.

We enter the venue, [Guy] introduces me to some of his friends… and then, he promptly disappears without a trace for the following hours.

I’m feeling quite lost and awkward as I don’t know anybody. I sulk for a while, but people are inviting me to socialise, and one even buys me a drink. So, I think, “Screw it. Let’s make the best of it while I’m here.” I have a couple of drinks, hang out with some people, admire the furry costumes, and enjoy the band.

People start inquiring who I’m with, and alarms start to go off.

The moment I mention his name and the fact that he disappeared on me, people go, “Oh, no, not him again,” and, “How in the h*** did a sweet thing like you end up with [Guy], of all people?” and, “Poor girl, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into,” and even, “Honey, don’t go on a date with this guy ever again. He’s trouble. Save yourself.”

I have no clue how to get out. We’re in the middle of nowhere, and as friendly as all the people are, no one is willing to give me a ride somewhere out of here. I enquire further and find out that my date is no real threat, just a notorious d****ebag with a truckload of personal issues.

[Guy] does show his face around midnight for a short time, and he looks tired and moody. I approach him and ask him if he is ready to leave, but he says no and tells me to continue dancing on my own.

Two o’clock in the morning rolls around and I’m dead beat, the high has gone, and I’m more than done with all this. I’m slumped on a sofa somewhere, just waiting for him to make an appearance. Some people are kind enough to keep me company, but most people have gone home by now. Then, [Guy] finally shows.

Guy: *Curtly* “We’re going.”

I follow him to the car. By the time we get to the hotel, that one album plays three more times, and I’m close to punching a wall.

He snores like a pig all night, so I don’t sleep a wink. During breakfast, he continues to be grumpy and doesn’t say a word, so I finally tell him he can drop me off at the nearest train station and I’ll find my way home from there.

He has the nerve to look surprised.

We get to the station, and I swear, I never want to hear this particular album again ever in my life. Before I leave, I turn to him and say:

Me: “You know, I even managed to have a bit of fun last night.”

His face lights up.

Guy: “You did?”

Me: “Yes. But obviously, no thanks to you. Never see you later.”

I slammed the car door in his face and, true to my word, never saw him again. I did meet some more people who seemed to know the guy some months after, and again, I was told I’d dodged a bullet with that one.

Related:
Ain’t Dating Just The Best?