The "Serial Killer" Knight

Let's preface this blog entry by stating: I love people who let their freak flag fly.  If I did not feel this way,  I would have allowed what was a great experience to pass me by.  . .

I was checking my inbox on my dating site of choice and I came across an email that caught my eye.  I can't recall what the title was, but "hey" or "sup" wasn't the subject, so I decided to read on.

In this man's intro he wrote he had been on the site for some time, but had not really contacted anyone. For whatever reason, when he came across my profile he decided that he HAD to reach out to me. I wish I still had the email because it was so witty and well thought out, for the first time on this crumby dating site, I was impressed. He had a great dead pan humor way of writing and if you took offense easily, well, he wasn't your "cup of tea," he wrote. He was complimentary, witty,  and already had a plan for a first date according to his email.  This was a lot more than I can say about most of the men I have dated so far! Come to think of it, his intro email was probably one of the most sincere emails I have gotten while on this dating site.

While still basking in the glow of this awesome hello letter I went to check out his profile. His handle was something like SerialKiller. The glow is now beginning to fade. . .

As I began to read the profile, I realized that a lot of his profile stats were BS. If you didn't, you were an idiot.

I'm just sayin. . .

He spoke Tagalog.  He was a dictator of a small African nation, and had a summer home on the moon. I liked the irreverence. It was refreshing.

His profile was LONG. Longer than mine and probably one of the longest I have read from the varying suitors. He had a scpheal on his profile about "if you were attracted to the dictatorial, baby seal killing, 6'7 type" he was your ideal mate.  He then went on a whole diatribe about how if you had pistachio shells for brains or wanted a man "who's wallet in his back pocket weighed him down more than his manhood in the front," you weren't going to be his cup of tea either.

At this point most women would probably be horrified, but me, nope. I was enthralled. This guy goes on a dating site to meet chicks and writes psychobabble. I thought it was revolutionary.

I looked at his pictures to see what this radical dictator/astronaut did in his spare time. I was pleasantly surprised to see  pictures of him from all over the world. The funny part was that I KNEW where he was in most of the pictures. . .and I'm not talking he was standing next to Mickey with a giant castle in the background. He had pictures of him on tropical islands, on the streets of Europe and poolside at Mexican resorts. He likes to travel.  He's in.

I decided that despite the craziness in his profile writeup I loved the email, loved the pictures and if two out of three gets you somewhere on American Idol, who am I to argue with this logic.

To further see if I had totally lost my mind about this specific specimen I invited my friend Denise to listen to me read a few excerpts of his profile entry and his intro email to me. As I sat there, reading to her, her face sliding into a state of shock, I knew I was nuts.

"Chris, his handle is SerialKiller or whatever. Don't you think that that is a reason to NOT go out with him?" She looked exasperated.

"Nah. I think it's a front. I think he's detached or something. Maybe we're supposed to meet so I reattach him,"as I laughed wildly.

This dating death march has definitely affected me.

I email him back at 4pm that day to tell him that I think that we should speak sooner rather than later. He calls me at 5pm. I am still with Denise. It's friend time. No boys horning in on friend time. It's like, you don't talk about Fight Club. It's not debatable.  I text him that he should try back later around 9pm.

Well by 9pm we have been sipping margaritas for the better part of happy hour and I am blush with Don Julio. Denise has departed and I am arranging and re-arranging clothes and dishes. SerialKiller gives me a call and I can't help but pick up. I am more than relaxed enough to talk to a complete stranger.  After the last Eminem event, even if this goes south, it may be good fodder for the all girls lunch this week. I mean, we still talk about the random dick pic.

SerialKiller and I proceed to talk for over 2 hours. We talk politics, religion and favorite places traveled around the world. We periodically speak Spanish to each other, because we can. He has me giggling like a school girl and I feel like, finally, I can connect with someone.

I am not a phone person, and the fact that this man has kept me on the phone for the better part of 3 hours is no small feat. We agree that we will meet later on this week somewhere in between he and I. He asks if I like the Bonefish Grill, and I tell him it's a great place and I love their bang bang shrimp. He agrees that we need to go drink good wine and eat good food and that is where we are going to go.

The night of the date I arrive at the Bonefish Grill before him and take my seat at the bar. It's been a rough day, and I am excited to have what seems like it will be a great evening ahead. After waiting for a few minutes I notice someone out of the corner of my eye.

When he sat down next to me he was strikingly more handsome than his pictures portrayed. He had pale alabaster skin and eyes that reminded me of the water of Bermuda. He seemed as if he was about 6'4 and pretty slim.  His head was shaved with a slight hint of brown stubble under the smooth surface.

As he was getting comfortable in his chair, he seemed to be studying me as he sat there. I couldn’t tell if he was impressed, beguiled or just stunned. He sat there looking at me like he wasn’t sure he was there. I in turn began to wonder if I was the person this man was looking for, or if I was part of some traveling staring contest.  As soon as I was going to say something to break the ice, he did.

“Why hello,” he cooed. I said “hi” and introduced myself. He sat back in his chair and the bartender stopped by. He ordered a Bud and then apologized for ordering crappy beer.

Well at least he  knew he was ordering crappy beer. I sat there with my three olive Chopin martini that I had paid for in full prior to his arrival. I had been eyeing it up for the minutes before he arrived, hoping that it was going to be worth sitting through.

I know, I am sorry.

I know I sound jaded but at this point I had been on nearly 20 dates and was really questioning the world and my place in it.

Was I looking for too much? I didn’t think so. . .

Other women out there had gainfully employed, fully functioning male counterparts who didn’t make you feel like they were going to either drive you crazy with their idiosyncratic quirks or smother you in your sleep at night.  So far everyone I had gone out with made me think that perhaps being married to my career had been the RIGHT choice and this dating thing, well it was, bush league at best. 

I came-to out of my "what am I doing with my life" mental montage to see the man sitting next to me still sitting there so this must be my reality.  We spoke of how he had decided on Bonefish Grill and I expressed how pleased I was to not to have to pick the restaurant. He began to ask questions about my day and trip over and truly seemed engaged. We chatted about my time with roller derby since he knew someone who had done it, his job in sales and why we couldn't get non GMO labeling in the US. We then spoke of the parameters there were for dinner, since I am allergic to nearly everything, and he had hard limits with the kind of fish he would eat.

We segued over to a table after I insisted in paying the bar tab.  I felt a level of, “I can walk away from this date if it goes South" because I paid the bar tab. I don't know why I always feel that way. . .

When we arrived at the table the great conversation continued. We seemed to have very similar values and beliefs. There were even some similarities that we had  that were not common or popular. He was eloquent, kind and really listened. We were now closing the restaurant. We had been at dinner for over 4.5 hours. Since I believe in restaurant karma, I felt badly sitting this late and suggested we make our way outside. As we were beginning to gather our things to get up and go outside,  he stopped speaking abruptly and just looked at me. I thought I had sprouted a lobster out my ear. 

He looked at me and said "I don't want to do this once again."

I sat across from him wide eyed and mouth agape. I have been turned down before, but this was like a harpooning. I thought it had gone well!!

"I want to do this as often as we can," he replied with a smile.

I nodded in agreement and a sigh of relief escaped me. I felt like a high school girl who just got told a boy liked her.

We departed the table, since the restaurant was now closing, and he offered to walk me to my car. I think I had the spot literally right next to the door, so I pointed, smiled and he nodded and laughed.

"Should we do this again soon?" he asked.

I nodded in agreement. He kissed me on the cheek and wished me a good night and promised to text when he got home so I knew he got home safe. He asked me to do the same and I agreed.

As I walked to my car I was really excited. I felt like he and I had a ton in common and really connected.  I was excited to see where things were going to go.

As I put my key in the ignition to begin my journey home, I noticed that the car he had gotten into was not heading towards the parking lot exit, but rather racing towards me. The car was coming at my drivers side door at such a clip that I thought that his car was going to ram into mine!

"What the hell is he doing?!?!?!"

Just as I thought that I had been duped by some crack pot, demolition derby fan, the front end of his car stopped just short of my drivers door. As I was going to roll down the window to scream "what the hell are you doing?!?!" he threw the car in park and got out.

I am now totally baffled. Am I getting carjacked?

I had the window rolled down to call out to him and as I leaned out it, he kissed me. He then stood back and said "I needed to do that. I guess we can go home now."

I was a bit taken a back. It was sweet and scary all at the same time. I couldn't tell if my heart was a flutter for the fact that he had done this outrageous thing to kiss me, or if I was just scared for my life.

In any case, I was definitely going out with this guy again.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Knight

As I have been doing this blog I found that the dates are getting more and more interesting. I don't know why that is, but the more mild mannered ones were definitely in the beginning of this endeavor. I have been writing of them out of sequence for both anonymity for the Knights and also so all the doozies aren't grouped together!  At this point of the blog I have been on 11 of them I am finding out a few things. Many of these things came to light after going on a date with this Knight.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Knight came to me through the dating site.  He had reached out to me and it took me nearly a week to get back to him. He seemed kind looking in his pictures. Bright blue eyes, tallish, sparkling smile, he looked fit and had friends in his pictures; always a good sign.  His profile said he was in finance, spontaneous, laid back, and a bit sarcastic.

I have to look and see if those qualities are on the sample profile page because I see those specific traits appear over and over on the this dating site where these guys describe themselves. Back to our Knight. . .

This man had messaged me to tell me he came across my profile and we seemed to have a lot in common. 

Always a plus.

He asked if I would like to meet up with him sometime. He was living in my home town. I was worried he was someone I knew, who knew about the blog, and was just messing with me. As to not prolong the tomfoolery, I decided I would send along my phone number and ask him to text me. This way, we could speed up the meet up, and if I was getting the wool pulled over my eyes by some funny friend, I'd find out who it was sooner rather than later.  

Sidebar:  The back and forth after the initial hello is always the largest investment of time I am finding.  This period of qualifying can take up to a few weeks and well, I don't want be doing this into 2020.  

He began our texting adventure with me one evening by asking if I want to grab a drink. I happened to be home that night after work and figured sure; I can muster some energy to see who this mystery man is. After a chain of texts as to where to meet, he decided to back out because he had to get up early for work. I said, "No worries" and was happy to stay in my sweats and no make up. The following night brings the same text.  "Do you want to go for a drink," he texts. I text that it's late this time and I am watching American Horror Story and he sends back a text asking if I want company.  Hmmm.

I send him back, "I'm sorry.  I don't invite strange men to my home." 

He replies, "I respect that, but I am always a gentleman." 

I come back with, "I am sure you are, but that remains to be seen." 

I find it odd that a man would want to come by so late at night and I am kind of put off because it feels creepy.   I decide in order to further see if this guy is someone looking to meet someone to date, or if he is just DTF I will ask some qualifying questions. I definitely don't want to waste my time with some guy who is just looking to hook up with randoms; me included.   

"Are you looking for a dating situation or are you just looking to meet people?" I text.  I figure that is a nice way of saying what is going through my mind. He says he is looking to build a friendship, and see where it goes. OK, cool; but you're still not coming to my home in the middle of the night.  We agree via text to meet the following day for lunch before I have to go to work. You wanna be creepy with me, you get daylight.

He prefaces confirming the date with that he has  a one year old's birthday to get to at 2:30pm that afternoon. I do a pre-emptive "I have to work at 3" whether or not I do. I'm finding that not only in business, but in life in general, you should ALWAYS have an exit strategy. We agree we should have a hard stop at 2pm to make it where we have to go.

We agree to meet at Urban Table, since I hear that they have brunch and I am always down for a good brunch I don't have to cook. 

We are due to meet at 12:30pm but we are both running late. By quarter to one I am parking and I arrive to find him waiting in the doorway. He's definitely a real man and not my friend pranking me. Oh well. He is just about my height in heels which makes him shorter in person than his online height.

I am getting good at figuring this out as time goes by and also finding that people LIE LIKE DOGS about their height. 

He is dressed in a wool over coat, a button-up collared shirt and black leather shoes.  His hair is shaved tightly to his head and I can't figure out if his pretty blue eyes are sparkly or are what we like to call crazy eyes.  The sort that have that "I have heads in my fridge" look to them.  I wonder if they are going to start rolling all over the place like on of my last dates.  I guess we will find out soon enough!

He looks wildly uncomfortable standing there waiting for me.  As I walk towards him he realizes that I am the PoF prize for waiting in the breezeway of the restaurant. He walks towards me,  hugs me and kisses me on the cheek hello and ushers me out the doorway onto the sidewalk. 

Odd. . I thought we were eating inside. It's cold. We are now standing outside and I am confused.  Was there a problem with the restaurant? Did he have a family emergency and is canceling?  Why am I not moving towards having brunch?

He explains to me that there is going to be a 15 minute wait and we should go somewhere else.  OK. He's being decisive. Great. 

"So where are we going?" I ask. 

He replies, "What do you think?" 

Ah, shit. 

Now I'm stuck planning this endeavor and my brain is still stuck on brunch. OK Manzella, switch gears. You're not getting brunch. Suck it up and pick a place because your ass is freezing. 

It now begins to snow. Yes. Snow. That mythic weather element that we have not hardly seen in 2012 in my parts of New Jersey.  And today, because I have to walk to who-knows-where for Plan B lunch, it will choose to precipitate. Awesome.

I quickly choose the safe zone. "The Hopper?" I reply.

 "Eh," he sighs.

He's so soft spoken I can hardly hear him. He's looking stressed now that we are not coming up with a place. I'm scrambling. I think to myself, "If I work tonight and only have time for one reasonable meal today where I can sit and eat it while it is hot, what the hell do I want." 

Eureka. 

A burger. (Sorry my vego friends. Sadly, given no decision making time, limited resources and what might be the only comfort to my lunch, I chose burger.) 

I suggest that we walk to the Dublin Pub for a good burger. He agrees it's a good choice and we begin our walk. On our way we spoke about the traffic and parking, if we go out in Morristown often, and what we are up to later in the day .  

When we sit down he orders an iced tea and I have a club soda while we are reading the menu.  I ask about his work and the daily commute, how he likes being a homeowner and other small talk. He talks at length about each of the questions I ask. He is soooooooooooo soft-spoken. I wonder if this lovely man has ever raised his voice a day in his life.

He seems very reserved. Very very reserved. There has been no profanity, no reference to any wild weekends and a lot of talk of work and his home. This is sweet, but I start to worry.
I drop the f bomb more often than most people blink. I'm afraid I may frighten him if I do this. I've noticed that I have lowered my tone and I am now sort of whispering too when I talk to him. Weird. The waitress comes over and we each order burgers and Dt. Cokes. 

He asks about my job, what I do in my spare time, and of my recent travels to Ireland and Vegas. He listens to me intently as I share about my exploits. I thought I would like this quality in a date but I notice when I talk he stares at me in a way it just makes me feel uncomfortable. I can't put my finger on it. Maybe it's that icky feeling you have when someone you don't care to have staring at you is watching you.  

Maybe I was boring the crap out of him and he had zoned out. Who knows? I just had this "Wow. This is sort of creepy" feeling every time it seemed he was "focusing" on what I was saying. I felt he was nearly piercing me with his stare! 

As the conversation went on I realized a few things. We share that we are Italian, have both visited Vegas and like red wine. But, that's kind of it. The further we talked I just felt like we were so different in what our interests were, how could this go anywhere. He liked to stay home and focus on work. I like to focus on working on traveling. He was a sweet man but we were like apples and orangataungs.  I'm looking for peas and carrots. 

Well que sera. We had a lovely burger, a nice chat and maybe we can stay in the friend zone. I look at my phone and realize that for us to be at our intended locations we will need to get the check and leave.  I ask the waitress for the check and pull out money to pay for my food and drinks. He offers to pick up the check and I thank him. It was very gracious and I thought it was a very pleasant lunch getting to know him. I thought that perhaps at this point he felt the same. We will never know.

In the last few moments before the waitress brought the check I looked out the window and looked up at the snow. I thought to myself, "it's all just so beautiful."I turned to him and very nonchalantly mentioned how "crazy is this global warming thing." I think he stopped dead with what he was doing and said something to the extent of "you don't believe that crap do you?" 

I was startled. He sounded sour and biting. His inflection had changed. It nearly sounded like he had another tone of voice when he said it.  I thought for a moment, perhaps, someone had walked by the table and just blurted out the prior statement.  This couldn't be the same quiet, mild mannered man I had sat across from all this time? 

I was wrong. It WAS him.  He was shaking his head and had a look of disgust on his face. 

"Oh, dear, no!" I thought to myself.  

Whether you believe in global warming or or not I don't care. I can agree to disagree. It's one of my strong suits. I happen to believe in global warming, the Mayan end of the calendar next week and marriage should be renewed every 7 years like a lease -  if there is no apocalypse on the 21st. I digress.  

I wasn't unhappy the he didn't believe in global warming.  I was unhappy with the way that he belittled an opposing point of view and was so dismissive. Generally, I would have spoken up for the what I believed in and called him out on dismissing someone's dissenting view. Strangely, I refrained.  I think it's because I am learning from this dating experiment when to say when. I just sat there and smiled and nodded politely.  

To fill the dead air that was slowly but surely filling our booth I mentioned something about "well at least we are going in the right direction with solar power." 

He scoffs at my comment. 

He tells me that it would take so much to convert all of our devices and machinery that we would require converted to get solar to work, it would be impossible. He believes in the "digging" for natural gas as he calls it.  I've heard of this fracking, as it is called, and I am not a fan of this. Again. It's like someone is testing me to see if I will go all hippie on him. I sit quietly, smile and nod.  As we get up to put our coats on, he continues on with the conversation. He tells me that if Obama hadn't spent all the money on "stupid social programs" there would be more money for pursuing natural gas in Alaska and other places. 

The little voice inside of me is now SCREAMING. He has just hit me with the trifecta.  Insult my political views, bash nature and belittle opposing views. I still don't say a word.  At this very moment I realize the thing that is magic about this whole episode is one thing: I have figured out the hustle.

I don't have to call him, text him or see him ever again if I don't want to. Awesome. 

That soothes the inner voice that is now hoarse from the epic scream. No need to engage him. Just say goodbye.  We depart the restaurant talking about our upcoming week. I have remained cool as a cucumber throughout the talk and walk. He has no idea that he has taken my inner values tree and shaken it to the very core. I am Chris' Zen Penguin Power-animal. I can weather any date now. Slide.

I wish him well with his afternoon birthday party. I depart across the street waving goodbye as my inner Zen Penguin flips him the bird.