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2003-10-14 - 6:01 a.m. The Last Few Days 2: The Date, First Part So, the date. This will be a very long entry, since I probably have a lot to get out. Blow by blow. So, some time ago, two weeks ago or something, I responded to a classifieds ad. And, on Thursday, we play email tag, him sending me responds and questions, which I fielded rather well. Perhaps too well. Pretty quickly, about the third or forth batch of responses, he kept insisting that I was 'really Cute' and a 'warm-hearted person'. He liked me 'a lot'. Too quickly, for my tastes. His emails became these ovely sugary things were he just kept saying that he thought that I was really cute and really nice. I don't mind being called that, well, not a whole lot anyway, but I would rather just chat with a guy, find out about him, than constantly hear that I'm cute. I'm not a big fan of such unadulterated flattery. He asked me if I would like to go on a date with him the next day. I said 'sure' before I actually thought about it. I figured, hey. Date. Time to get to know each other in person. No big deal. Hope he likes me. But then I think of the slight desperation his emails had, how he kept saying over and over that I was cute. And how ecstatic his email read when I said ok. I talked to him on the phone that night, half-thinking, he's probably a decent guy. From the emails, I found out that he likes video games, pro wrestling, and American music. It's an okay combo. I'm friends with a lot of guys that likes those things back home. Friends. When we were talking, the word 'mouth-breather' crossed my mind a whole lot of times. You know, extremely nerdy fucking mouth breather. A guy I don't want to touch, much less date. Why that word? Just by how he sounded on the phone. But then I reason with myself, hey, it's a cell phone. It always sounds worse on a cell phone. AND his English isn't that great sounding anyway. What, with the constant hesitations and apologies about it. Maybe he's not a mouth breather. He likes Our Lady Peace. Anyway, when I hanged up with him and ate the dinner I didn't get to start because of his call, I couldn't get out of my head the thought that he was a slobbering, fat, Japanese fanboy mouthbreather. Ew. I went to bed, thinking about a way to avoid the date on Sunday. (He wanted to meet me Saturday, but I said I was busy.) Maybe, I thought, I could wait for him in a crowded place at the train station we were going to meet at, and, if I don't like what I see, when he asks for my name, I'll just say I'm not who I am. Good plan, no? Be cool, and act like I'm waiting for someone else? But he did promise movie and karaoke during the phone call. And I always liked karaoke. So, on Sat., I did my hair, still nervous about meeting a mouthbreather the next day. On Sunday, I got up at around 6.30 in the morning. He wanted to meet me at 10 am in Tokyo, so that meant I had to get out of the house at 7.30 to catch a train at 8 to get there in time. I got there with 10 minutes to spare. I, stupidly?, waited for him at the small, extremely uncrowded north exit. He got there at 11am. Yay for me. It was a bit of a shock, someone walking up to me while I'm reading the volume of Peach Girl that I bought the night before. He kind of came out of nowhere, his hair wet-looking (it stayed wet the whole time. Maybe it was greasy?). He seems to be trying to grow a beard (or maybe he doesn't like shaving), because his face was covered in a spotty, long fuzz. No glasses, about my height, guessing around 160-180 pounds. At first glance, everything was okay, except for his lips, which looked so chapped, they looked like they were sunburned a while back. Peeling and everything. My thought: I am so not kissing those lips. He was friendly enough. I didn't have breakfast, and he asked if I was hungry, so we went to a McDonalds. He paid. Tried to talk to me, but he was afraid of his English/nervous and I'm not very good at talking with people I just met. Maybe I should go on a group date or something next time. I kept thinking, I would do a lot better with a larger group of people than just me and him. After lunch, and much walking and backtracking since the poor boy didn't know the area very well, we went to a theater. side note: At the theater, they were giving out Lord of the Rings cell phone straps with any pre-bought tickets. I wanted to buy a couple, a Arwen one for Lisa and a Gollum one for Pams, but I can't just buy them. No money either. Those two and the Frodo one are the only types left... They also had a big poster for Kill Bill, but that hasn't come out yet.... The movie I wanted to see, Johnny English, didn't start for almost three hours, we wandered around a bit, going to the HMV across the street, before going to karaoke for a couple of hours. Bought a R.Kelly cd. Why in God's name does he call himself the 'Piped Piper'? Perv. Now, about Karaoke. You know it, and I know it, as a great pasttime, something extremely fun to do with friends while getting pretty damn drunk. Unfortunately, I don't think that Satochi, the guy, had this in mind. He was too damn happy when I said ok to karaoke to be thinking that. I thought, hey, we act silly, singing bad songs, and have some fun getting to know each other. He must have been thinking, hey, a small, private place to make out. This, my friends, is were everything goes downhill for the day. Hence, on to Part 3. The Past - Guestbook - The Future, Too |