Yes, I have done this and though I would rather die than admit this to the men I have done this to, I will say that a good friend of mine just told me about doing the same thing.
I was sitting at home on a Saturday afternoon with my trusted laptop, writing and trying to put a story together for a writing contest. I was feeling the usual feelings of wracking my brain trying to be brilliant rather than just write the damn story when my phone rang.
This was the distraction I needed so badly and I answered the phone, knowing it was my friend Debra because I have really cool ring tones for every contact in my phone. This is technology that I love because I don’t even have to look at the phone to know who is calling nd depending on my mood, I either answer or let it go to voicemail. To me, this is the ultimate in being lazy and I cherish it.
I answered because I was just getting absolutely nowhere with my story plus I was feeling guilty about not writing much that week because I work 2 jobs and if I don’t write enough, I start to feel emotionally sluggish. Sort of a stale feeling comes over me and then I start to get nervous about even going near my laptop unless it is to play solitaire.
I grabbed the phone, hit the talk button and say hello.
“Susan, guess where I am going?”
I can tell Debra is in her car.
“You are leaving town, moving to Nevada to work as a hooker at a ranch.” Debra had recently been laid off from her job because her boss had died and the family was cutting costs by bringing in relatives, have them do the work and not pay them as much.
I hear her belly laugh. “No, I am on my way to meet a guy for a blind date.”
Debra and I have been doing the internet dating scene and often compare stories. In fact, many of my friends tell me their stories and then ask me to write about them. It’s a strange little hobby of mine. Writing stories about my life and other people.
I immediately ask her for all the details about this new guy. Debra and I are very different in our approach to internet dating. I hate it. She likes it. I really don’t want to meet any of them. She loves to meet as many people as possible and as quickly as possible. I only meet them after weeks of emailing and then maybe a few weeks of talking on the phone and then if I am still interested, I might meet them. But by then they have “moved on” (a very popular saying for internet dating along with “He’s just not that in to you” when the men you are talking to suddenly disappear) and I forget about the free website I am on until another email arrives from someone I don’t know who has just sent me their phone number or instant messaging address and is just dying to “chat”, which is another term that I don’t quite understand.
Hence, she has a lot of dates and I have very few.
“Well, I’m driving half way to meet him and he’s really good looking and that bothers me, but I’m going anyway.”
“Ah, yeah, the ‘good looking’ problem. How come you are making an exception for this one?” I ask. Both Debra and I don’t like to date drop dead gorgeous men because, well, it makes us a bit uncomfortable and very often, they haven’t developed much of a personality because they don’t have to. Women can get away with this much easier than men because men are men and I don’t think it needs much more of an explanation than that.
“Because I’m hungry and we are meeting for dinner.”
“So, you are now dating for food, is that it?” I say as I start laughing. I knew just what she was talking about but I had never told anyone that I have done it many times.
I hear her laugh again and I know this is why she is going. She’s broke, she doesn’t know what to do or where to go and this will be a nice distraction. It has to be something like that because she said he was really good looking.
“Yes, I guess you could say that. I figure I’ll meet him, get something to eat because I haven’t eaten all day and maybe have some fun.”
“Look Deb, women have been doing this for thousands of years and I think you should go for it. Be sure to order a huge meal so you can get a doggie bag and have some food for tomorrow. Be nice to him, don’t be rude and have some fun. Who knows, you might really like him and hit it off.”
She is quiet for a second and then says “Do you really think it’s OK to do this? I mean, I haven’t really talked to him much, but he seems like a nice guy.”
“Hell, Deb, you’ve married men for less than that.”
“That’s true” she says.
“Yes, it’s fine. You are meeting in a public place, driving yourself and then coming home. Just don’t do something stupid and call me as soon as you are leaving.”
She agrees and hangs up and I continue with my day on the couch with my laptop and some Ben & Jerry’s for dinner.
About 2 hours later, she calls back and I grab the phone.
“So Deb, how was dinner?” I ask.
“I don’t know. I never got to eat.”
This is not good and she sounds distant and I am suddenly worried.
“Are you OK?” I ask.
“Yeah, I’m fine, Everything is fine but you will not believe what happened.”
She proceeds to tell me the story. She arrives at the restaurant and he was all ready seated and waiting for her. The first thing she notices was that he was just finishing a beer and yet she recalls he was adamant that he didn’t drink. They greet each other and he doesn’t offer her anything to drink, so she goes to the bar herself to order something.
As she sits down, the waitress gives him another drink and while they are talking, he finishes that one and orders another one. He is even better looking in person.
She is watching this and though she doesn’t really care if he drinks or not, she is starting to sense that he definitely has a drinking problem and says nothing.
The waitress comes over to take their order for dinner and he blows her off and tells her to come back later. They chat for a while and then Debra gets up to use the bathroom and he follows her.
When she comes out, he is standing there, leering at her and grabs her butt and pulls her towards him. His tongue is sticking out and laying flat on his chin and he takes his right hand, grabs the back of her head and pushes her lips onto his tongue.
While she is telling me this, I feel myself getting angrier and angrier but grateful she is fine.
“Sue it was like kissing a cows tongue! His tongue was just laying there on his chin and he pushed my face into it and it happened so fast I didn’t know what to do. Then I could tell he was really turned on and all I could think of was to get away from him as quickly as possible.”
“Yeah, but what about the doggie bag?” I asked. “You mean to tell me you drove all the way over there and you still didn’t get any food?”
She starts laughing. “No, I didn’t get any food! I pulled away and walked back to the table and grabbed my purse and left. The son of a bitch follows me out and wants to know where I want to go! He actually thought I wanted to get in his car with him and go somewhere else!”
I shake my head and find it hard to believe that anyone would act this way and then I remember several first dates of my own. I am the Queen of first dates and rarely have a second date.
“Are you kidding me? He wanted you to get in his CAR?” I ask.
“Yes! So I told him I would just follow him and he gets in his car and starts driving and I pulled out of the parking lot and took off the other way.”
“Let me guess” I say. “He started calling you after about 10 seconds, right?”
“You didn’t answer, did you?” I ask, holding my breath.
“Hell no! I’m still on my way home and he’s called about 5 times and sent 3 text messages, wondering if I got lost. The idiot is probably pulled over on the side of the road, waiting for me.”
This gets me to giggling, just visualizing this man who looks like he just stepped out of a GQ ad, drunk and by the side of the road, sending text after text and constantly hitting the “talk” button on his cell phone, waiting for Deb to come around the corner with absolutely no clue about his offensive and disturbing behavior.
“Well, I’m glad you are OK.”
“I’m fine, just hungry, that’s all. Really ticks me off I didn’t get any food out of this. Oh well, maybe next time.”
“Deb, with you, there will always be a next time.”
“Sue, you have to promise me something.”
I already know what it is, but I’ll bite.
“Sure. What is it?”
“That the next time I decide to date for food, you will remind me of this date and stop me.”
“But what if you are really hungry and have no money?”
I can actually hear her thinking about this as she drives down the road on her cell phone.
“Send me some money and I promise to go have dinner by myself.”