Dating Nightmare #3 - The Roman Soldier

So I met Dave on Match.com.

We exchanged emails a few times, chatted online a few times, spoke on the phone a few times, and then decided to go out and grab a bite together for lunch one weekend.

Innocent enough, right?

We confirm the day before, and then he calls me the morning of to tell me he has an issue with his car.  Thinking nothing of it, I offered to pick him up.

Now, I know, I know.  Here I go to some stranger's house, right?  But, hey, we talked enough times that he seemed like a nice guy.  Beside, he lives in a somewhat ritzy town, so what could go wrong?

So, I show up at his place.  It's an awesome home, with a nice long driveway, and I noticed that the home itself was very secluded with lots of hedges and trees.

I ring the door bell and wait.  And wait.  And wait.  Eventually I ring the door bell again.  The door opens as he says "Hey, I'm glad you could make it - come on in - sorry about that."

He is standing behind the door.

I walk in.

Looking to my left, I see a rather LARGE cross.  Yes, as in a CROSS.  In the middle of what I would think was the family room.

Surrounding the cross are all sorts of candles.  Big candles.  Small candles.  Some in jars.  Others on pillars.  LOTS of candles.

At this point, I hear the door start to close.  I stop, and turn around to ask him why he has a cross burning in his family room.  And I find myself totally dumfounded and without words.

Dave is standing there dressed like a Roman soldier.  Helmet - check.  Skirt - check.  Belt, sandals, and sword - check, check, check.

"Wanna get naked, stand on the cross, and jerk off on me?" he asks.

There were no words.  None.  I was numb.  Was it the scene?  The outfit?  The request?  I dunno.  All of the above?

I tried to say something, but my feet beet my tongue as they carried me to the door and I left.

I just left.

He said something, but by then, I was on full autopilot.  My ears were shut down.  My tongue didn't work.  All I could think about was getting to my car, locking the doors, starting it up, and getting out of there.

And that is exactly what I did.

My phone started ringing.  I put his number on ignore.  Emails started popping up.  I added them to a blocked list.

Even describing this gives me the creeps.

Who the hell was this person that I thought I had had some really interesting (in a good way) discussions with.

Just some guy on Match.com.  That's who he was.

*sigh*


[In order to protect the "innocent", all dates I write about are called "David" or "Dave".  Any resemblances to actual Davids or Daves, Jims, James, Toms, Mikes, or Greggs, living or dead is purely coincidental.  Oh, and all nightmare dates are delayed by at least 90 days, "just because".]