Top 10 Worst Dates (#1 The Winner)

    It was tough, but I think this date takes the poll position on my experiences with bad dating.  It is hard to recall everything clearly, which will make sense as you read, but I will do my best.

    I met this guy online (yes, I too see a trend here with online dating).  I was really new at the concept, but it was the latest way of meeting people that didn’t involve sitting at a bar, and that was appealing at the time.  So, he lived in Kemah/Clear Lake area and was literally a stone’s throw from the Yacht basin.  It was really a gorgeous area, but his house looked like it just didn’t belong.  I arrived with the understanding we’d be going to dinner at an Italian place nearby.  As I drove up to his home, it just looked a little off somehow.  The yacht basin was to my immediate left, as in I could pull out a fishing rod and throw a line in from my car.  The the right stool a quaint, small wooden home.  It wasn’t flashy, fancy, but I’d have loved to have had it.  Wake up and go fishing or just watch the boats come and go.  Cool.

    So we met, but for the life of me, I can’t remember what he looked like.  I believe he was attractive, because if he didn’t match his profile picture, I was leaving (at least that was my plan).  Anyway, I vaguely remember getting in his vehicle and we drove to a place extremely close to his home.  All I can recall about the restaurant was that the walls were an ugly faded dusky pink color.  There was a black baby grand piano in the corner being played beautifully by an older man with black hair.  Why can I remember that, but nothing about the date?

    I recall it was a very small place, but in an odd way, it was elegant.  It was certainly Italian and it carried all the old school Italian type theme.  We sat at the bar which was really quite pretty itself with the dark glossed wood trimmed with just enough gold to not be gawdy.  This is where things start to fade a little.  Actually, my memory of it is kind of like looking at a very small photo album.  I can only recall brief images.

    I know I had a glass of white wine and a plate of food.  I remember when my food arrived, I thought the plates were antique in appearance, it really was very pretty.  Someone took their business seriously and did their best to make the theme as close to old school Italian as they could.  The wine glasses were also antique and very pretty.  I wasn’t a major wine fan back then, but I knew when dining out, white wine compliments pasta, so I went with it.

    I honestly cannot recall much else after that. I cannot tell you if the food was good (although I think  I had pasta), I cannot tell you how the wine tasted, and I cannot tell you if we even spoke or saw each other over dinner.  The time has been erased from that part of the memory.  It’s the most bizarre thing.

    What I do recall is waking up in a bedroom that had a very quaint charm to it.  The bedspread was heavy and green and the linens were obviously of high quality.  There was a ceiling fan, and there was a guy sleeping behind me, and we were spooning.  I was too confused to be startled.  I just kept trying to put all the pieces together.  About that time, he woke up and wanted to make cookies.  Who was this guy?  Was this the guy I met at the start of the date?  I didn’t know, and looking back, I can’t swear to it.

    Again, I draw a blank.  I do recall baking cookies but wasn’t hungry.  He was apparently starving and had to have cookies.  I was too tired and too dazed to argue or resist.  While in the process of baking cookies, he said, “Let’s make a baby.  Wanna make a baby with me?”  But, as quickly as I can recall the memory, it fades right back out, like the fade scene in a move right before the scene changes.

    The last memory I have of that night was driving home.  I have absolutely no recall at all of the events that took place that night.  It just might be a good thing that I can’t recall, and I am not sure I even want to know what happened that night.

    I can only assume I was drugged.  I am not a binge drinker, a drug user, and nor was I epileptic.  The only logical conclusion is being drugged.  Roofies maybe, I can’t know for sure.

    Not a lengthy one, but a very real one.  All these years later, I think I should just be glad that I ever got home.  I have heard all the clinches about roofies, have seen the funny references made to it on skits and sitcoms, but it’s nothing like what you see on TV.  It’s really far from funny (as seen from the third-person aspect).  From my perspective while on the date, I can’t tell you much.  It’s well over 10 years later, and I can’t recall much more than I’ve share here.

    Rarely do I tell anyone how to live or what to do unless the advice is solicited.  I will break that standard this once.  As a woman, if you are going out with a guy (particularly for the first time although it’s not always done only on a first date), keep your eye on your drink.  It takes no time at all, and even though we read about it and see it on the movies, most people do not think about watching their drink to protect themselves.  Unless you are opening a beer or opening the bottle yourself and pouring your own glasses, you are at risk.  It happens because it happened to me.  I suppose men could just as easily be at risk.

    If you are the thoughtless drugger, then at least know that you are risking that person’s life.  You never know who is on medication and for what reasons they may be medicated.  Millions suffer addictions, autosomal disorders, blood pressure and cardiac problems, asthmatics, and things as simple as cold medicine.  Mixing medications can easily be fatal.  Aside from the obvious implications of drugging someone in order for you to take advantage of someone, much worse can happen.

    Educate your daughters, your sisters, and your friends.

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