Dates from Hell and Klingons

Everyone has had at least one of these.  If you haven’t had the pleasure, good luck!  Dates from Hell are usually (but not restricted to) blind dates.  Invariably, the Date from Hell believes he is an Adonis with aptitude, and expects you to feel the same way. For some unfathomable reason, Dates from Hell usually become ‘Klingons’. 

A ‘Klingon’ – aside from being a UFO (unidentifiable factitious organism) – is one of those people who just won’t go away!!  Even after you have told them – in no uncertain terms – that you find them charisma challenged, aesthetically annoying and their halitosis horrendous.  Klingons need to be taken out by deadly force with heat seeking, satellite guided laser beams – there is no other way to get rid of them.

The following scenario stars, in the leading role, the Date from Hell, who became a Klingon:

You are house-hunting!  You are tired, irritable and depressed!  You stumble across yet another house with potential for re-zoning into a refuse dump.  You bump into an acquaintance, and break the depressing monotony of visualizing how badly the house needs to be demolished by having a chat. 

The next day … you receive a text message / sms …

Naturally, you think WOW!  But, wait a minute, you think, but if he says I don’t know him, how does he know how marvelous I am!  Then you think – who the hell is playing a trick on me now!!

You ignore the sms – regretfully!

The next day you receive this:

Well, you are, aren’t you? But you do not respond, tempted as you are, but you do save the number in you contacts in case the idiot doesn’t get the hint!

Of course he doesn’t get this hint. This is a typical of the WTF phenomenon that is your life…

One week later.

That’s  telling him!!!

Two days later … Well honestly, what did you expect?

And, yet again…one week later…

Ignore & delete!

At least a month or so goes by without Loony Stalker irritating you.

You continue your normal WTF routines.

And then…

Never – in my opinion – in the history of abbreviations, acronyms or textese has an exclamation been more deserved…

OMG!!!

Horrified, again, you ignore & delete …

And.. a few weeks go by….

Henceforth, all initials and X's are to protect the privacy and sanity of innocent bystanders!

Ok, you remember the house where you bumped into an acquaintance, R.T. The house was memorable due to the hideous and gag-inducing stench emanating from it’s core. I do NOT recall anyone being with her at the time, however, in her defense, I wasn’t really looking, I just wanted to get the hell out of the cess-house!

Yes, you should have called R.T. to check who the stalker was, as any other rational human being might. But did you? No…

So, naturally, two days later…

You know the drill… ignore and delete!

Finally … you are sitting at the car wash, minding your own business … your phone rings with one of those annoying Private Number displays… you answer.

“Hello, is this XXX” says a very sexy masculine voice.

 “Yes, whose calling?”  you breathe seductively down the line

“I’m the one whose texts you have ignored for the past 6 months – don’t slam the phone down, I just want to chat.”

 How did he guess you were going to slam the phone down??? Must have some grey matter after all!

 “Look, I’m really busy, what do you want?”

“Nothing serious, I just want to chat – where are you?” says the loon.

 “I don’t think that is any of your business!” you reply curtly.

He whines, “I’m really sorry if I’ve offended you in any way, and I thought if I phoned you might want to chat.  Don’t you even want to know my name!”

Why, oh why didn't you just drop the phone in a deep puddle at this point instead of answering,

“Just tell me one thing – I know R.T. did NOT give you my number – how did you get it?”

 A few seconds of white noise and, “It’s a bit embarrassing”

“Tell me or I’ll switch your call off so that I can report you the the legal service that deals with degenerates”

More white noise, then, “Ummm…”

“You have 5 seconds, starting now, – one…two…three…”

“Ok, ok, I took your number from the estate agents list when they weren’t looking! Are you happy now?” he mumbles.

You, speechless “…”

Him: “Hello, hello, are you still there?”

“You’re joking, right?”, you ask in all sincerity.

 He quickly replies, “No, I’m serious, I noticed you noticing me and I couldn’t ask R.T. for your number, could I?”

“Do me a favour … I don’t even remember seeing you, let alone noticing you!”

 “You certainly gave me the once over!”, he chuckles sardonically.

“I do that with everyone I meet – now, listen up, I don’t know anything about you except that you were with R.T. one fine day. I don’t know your name and I don’t want to – you have harassed me for at least 6 months, and now that we’ve spoken, I think we should leave it at that!”

 “Whadda ya mean, leave it at that – where are you, I’d like to introduce myself?” says he.

“Look, you are obviously deranged, I don’t want to meet you, and…”

He interrupts rudely and shouts, “I am not deranged, I just took your number ‘coz I thought we were compatible.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, we never even exchanged hello’s, how can you possibly imagine we’d be compatible?”

“Well, actually, you did say hello to me!”

“It was obviously not a memorable salutation for me, I was obviously being polite – I don’t even remember R.T. being with someone!”

“Well let me re-introduce myself, my name is XXX, how do you do?”

Now aside for the tedium of sitting at a car wash, 
you cannot for the life of you explain why you continued this conversation.  
It was not the last mistake you would make with him…

“Hello XXX, now that I’ve kinda met  you, lets call it a day!”

“I’m not going away until you agree to meet me.”

“Why I earth would I want to meet someone who pilfered my phone number from an estate agent and has badgered me for ever?”

“Please!”

“No!”

“I’ve got an idea, why don’t we have a few more phone conversations before we meet?”

“I don’t have anything to say to you!”

“I wrote a song for you.”

“What???”

“I did, I wrote a song for you, do you want to hear it?”

“No!”

“But, I had it recorded, and I sing as well”

“Please tell me you’re joking!”

“I’m deadly serious – I really want you to hear it – give me your landline number and I’ll play it for you!”

Mistake no. 2 coming up … but admit it… you were curious to find out if he was a truthful - 
as well as mentally unbalanced person…

“OK, my landline number is 555 5555, but I won’t be at that number until tomorrow morning”  (as it is your office number – you don’t want to be harassed at home, do you?)

 “Thanks, you won’t regret it…”

“I’m not convinced”

“After you hear it, I know you will want to meet me, I’m going to call at about 9am, is that OK?”

“Maybe.”

“OK, I’ll chat to you tomorrow, bye!”

If you thought, for one second, that would be the end of it, I’m here to tell you how wrong you were!
The next morning at 08h55 your cell phone rings … you answer … 
you are not shocked that he is calling again …

“Hi, it’s me, XXX, are you ready to hear your song?”

“Ummm, weeellll , OK!”

“This is how it works, someone called XXX is going to call your landline number  in a few minutes, and all you have to do is listen!”

“OK!” by now the hilarity has taken it’s toll and you are giggling mercilessly.

“I’ll call you back just now!”

The office phone rings, you answer and put it on speakerphone after calling in the rest of the office to witnesses what is surely going to be the funniest thing to happen in this boring environment all year…

After a few bars of melody, a voice begins to croon in a weird country & western/jazzy gospel way.  The lyrics are too pitiable to mention here, save to say that it seems to be about a love-sick degenerate trying to convince a woman that he is her true love…

After picking yourself up off the floor where you have rolled around clutching your stomach in hilarity for the duration of the song, and after having wiped the mirthful tears away, you answer your cell phone!

“So whaddya think!”

“It waaas, uhmmm, well..”

“Yes!?”

“It was really interesting”.

“Interesting… is that all?!?”

“Weelll, it was very nice, did you write that?”

 “Yeah, and I was singing – did you like it – I wrote it specially for you!?”

“You have really good voice!” you giggle thinking you have to find at least one complimentary thing to say, and truthfully, his voice was pretty good.

 “But did you listen to the words?”

 “Yes!” 

“So, will you go out with me then?”

“Umm, listen I’ve just got some people in the office with me now, call me back later on my cell”

“OK, but you are not getting away from me!”

You have to admit, it is the most original date request you have received, and even though you agreed to the date out of sympathy, you know that it will be a Date from Hell.

He arrives at your door (he was not taking any chances of being stood up!) and the first thing you notice is that you have definitely NEVER set eyes on this person before, and sincerely hope you will never have to see him again.

All the small talk in the car cannot disguise your impatience to get this over with, or his nervousness.  It must have been nerves that caused the vehicle to cruise over to the wrong side of the road  and mount the pavement – I mean, he did explain that he was a rally driver in apology!

When you arrive (thankfully, in one piece) at the seedy dive he has chosen as the venue for his seduction, you pray that there will be someone you know there to give you a lift home.

Fortuitously, there is – a connection you had when you were 20 or so, who has suddenly become your long-lost buddy.  Fortunately, there is space at this couples table for you and the Date from Hell.  You immediately begin to imbibe large quantities of alcohol, well, what else would help getting through this evening.

The date proceeds to regale the helpless couple with the details of the build up to the date.  Your acquaintance begins to give you funny looks.  You don’t blame her!  After removing his hand from you leg several times, you start surreptitiously moving your chair further away from him.  Your acquaintance saves the day by showing off her newly acquired palmistry skills  – you are the subject, which requires you moving completely away and into the light!  This does not deter him.  You are in deep concentration mode whilst your new old friend reveals her psychic abilities and foretells your future (which, by the way, does not include the Date from Hell!) you suddenly feel your hair being lifted and a wet slobbery kiss is planted on the back of your neck.  Naturally, you do not apologize to the Date from Hell for the huge red hand shaped wheal which is now  visible on his left cheek.  You also manage to get a lift home with your new old friend…

If only life were simple and it just ended there… but, no, he reveals himself as a ‘Klingon’.  Even when told that he is a genetic throwback of a giant, horned, feces eating reptile that you wish was extinct, he comes back for more.

It will take you 3 more months of ignoring the telephone and sms’s for you to be rid of him!