On Friday night on my way out of a bar, I met a cute guy. Within one minute he had bitten my neck. Within three minutes he had left with my friends and me. Within 30 minutes he was in handcuffs. And not the good kind. (Or as Officer Oliver put it, “not the furry kind”). Here’s what happened:
Alice*, Shawanda*, and I had gone out to see our friend play at the Satellite, and were running late to another friend’s birthday party across town. As we were rushing out, I was introduced to this guy (cute, neck-bite, etc). But friend-duty called, so I politely said my good-bye, except cute guy just drained his beer and said “I’m coming with you.” Points, dude.
Our drive was all smiles. Loud music blaring (mostly Tanlines), laughter, joy, the works. We found parking at a loading zone at 12:30am (I wasn’t winning any friend awards but at least I made it to the party, or so I thought). After a brief debate over the legality of the yellow loading zone (this concern was soon to become laughable), we decided not to risk it and Alice made a U-Turn toward a parking meter across the street. A cop pulled up behind us and us being geniuses, we decided to pull into the nearby Yoshinoya and pretend we were getting food. (In hindsight, the logic in this was limited at best). The cop followed, and we started to panic. Then nine other cop cars pulled up. NINE. Followed by a ghetto bird. Our mouths dropped open. Shawanda suddenly turned to us and said “Oh! Um, so I was maybe supposed to return this rental car yesterday.”
The cops got on the megaphone and instructed us to get out one by one. New Guy (as we had taken to calling him as none of us could remember his name) looked at me with a strong WTF face. Soon Alice and I were kneeling in the gravel of the parking lot with our hands on our heads (I assume Shawanda and New Guy were too but I couldn’t see them). About 20 cops were in the lot, pointing guns at us. Guns. At our heads. Al and I start giving each other the side-eye and laughing (did I mention it was Alice’s birthday as of midnight?). Then we all got cuffed and taken down to the station. On the ride down (I was with Alice) the cops were nothing but nice to us, explaining the car was reported stolen, asking about our tattoos, and asking about New Guy (even they started calling him New Guy). I told them I had just met him that night. “So you think he’ll go on another date with you?” asked Officer Oliver. I shifted in my cuffs and said “Nope. No sir, I don’t.”
After being held at the precinct for about two hours, we were asked to give statements and then let out. First me, then New Guy (still couldn’t remember his name), then Alice. Was pretty sure I had blown this first impression, but New Guy insisted on coming home with us to drink some whiskey. And if jail wasn’t enough, here is a brief list of the other large deal-breakers New Guy was confronted with that evening:
1. We got arrested (see above).
2. Apparently while we were all isolated, the cops told him that one of us had been arrested for homicide in Arizona, and that we were a girl gang whose m.o was to pick-up dudes and drug and kill them.
3. We brought him to my house, where Shawanda and Alice had been staying for a while, and which essentially looked like a mix of Hoarders and a squatter flop house.
3a. There was a maxi-pad on the floor of the bathroom.
3b. The following things were in my bed: balled up Kleenex, a vibrator, and about twenty pieces of dirty laundry.
4. Were it the season, we could have hung ornaments on my legs and put presents beneath the Christmas Trees they had become.
5. We never stopped calling him New Guy, until we started referring to him as Menudo (relating to his tan and preference of underwear).**
At this point I was pretttty sure New Guy was a lost cause, so the levels of honesty also hit unnecessary highs (Maybe Alice and I share deodorant and maybe it lives in the kitchen). But there is a point to this story, and it is this: Maybe we’ve all been doing it wrong this whole time. Maybe all the niceties and the games and the shaving (okay maybe not the shaving) isn’t the only way to attract a dude. And as I looked over at Menudo quietly slumbering in the morning (whether or not he’ll ever wake up there again), I thought this little thought: Maybe, just maybe, there are other ways. Like having your first date in jail.
*Names have been changed to protect the innocent. Except for Alice, because she’s full DGAF.
**I should probably add this post (and accompanying collage) to this list