Mel Gibson played an attractive but completely off-his-rocker man who believed the government was out to get him. Today we call this a bipolar or schizophrenic episode. I think I met and had a date with the real life guy this character was based on. His name is Ron and he’s a bartender in Ocean City, MD.
I met Ron on the free dating site Plenty of Fish and I am now aware you get what you pay for. He had many photos of himself with long hair which I playfully told him to cut. He actually agreed, (men will do anything to get laid) and his hair dresser asked him out on a date. MEN WHO READ THIS COLUMN: please take note that unless you ride a Harley and are a war veteran, please keep your hair above your collar. Women don’t dig it and you won’t go on many dates.
I don’t know what possessed me to decide to drive the 2 hours to Ocean City except that I thought a day at the beach would be nice. And it was. I met him at his work, a cute bar in Delaware which backed up to a small canal. I enjoyed the view.
I really should have listened to my intuition when he told me he was living with his sister for the summer- what are we, in high school? Who has a summer job at the beach unless they’re in college? Which, I found out he never finished. I don’t like dating me with less education than me. In most cases it doesn’t work out.
I decided to bring my camping gear and stay at a state park on the beach so I didn’t have to drive home the same day disappointed. It’s good to plan ahead and to have been a Girl Scout. Fire building and tent pitching are skills every woman should have, along with knowing how to change a tire, check the oil and drive a stick shift. You just never know.
It was a beautiful day and the weather says no rain. Awesome! I set out on my journey with lots of tunes and a bit of traffic but all in all an easy trip. I get there at 4 PM as planned.
I’m a little sweaty from the drive but excited about my little mini-adventure. He comes over to the hostess stand-gee he looks taller and gruffer than I remember; like he’s smoked all his life and dug ditches for a living. Nothing wrong with manual labor but it does take it’s toll on the bod.
“Would you like to sit down?” he asks. He gestures to a table while he grabs a menu. Not “Hi, you must be Lynn. It’s nice to meet you”, but a generic greeting as if I were just a customer walking in off the street. This was red flag #2. Yikes. Emily Post needs to help you son.
I manage to get out “The bar-I came to see you. I’m Lynn, dumbass.” Well, not that but I thought it. His reply was “I know, that was me being charming.” Oh boy. I should have left then but a beer sounded so good right then.
I wait for him to get off in an hour and he disappears into the back for God know how long. 20 minutes? 30? It was hard to tell. So I went into the backyard and relaxed in a chair. He didn’t even come out to check on me. What a loser!
So he’s hungry and wants to get some dinner. I’m like, what about here; it looks like a cute bar/restaurant? He says to follow him and we drive to-wait for it-Burger King. Yes, his idea of a good first date meal is cheap fast food. My mouth about fell open and collected a fly.
Three strikes and I’m out. I’m planning my escape and we start talking about his life a bit. We start with why he’s at the beach for the summer-can’t find work at home-that seems logical and normal. Then we discuss the negative side of fast food- so many calories and salt! And he doesn’t think anything of it.
And somehow we got on this convo about his being a felon. Yes, you heard me right- a convicted felon; another reason he can’t find work. Oh my God, please don’t let it be for rape or murder. I start to sweat. No, apparently he took a drug wrap for his roommate because, “That’s the kind of guy I am”.
Alrighty then! Really going to leave now but it gets worse! But a better story now. He starts talking about his uncle who invented an engine for a car that runs on water. But some other guy stole his idea and pattened it and now his uncle is suing him. Interesting. Aparantly he keeps it in a shed in his backyard and the FBI flies overhead daily to try and see what’s in the shed. Are you kidding me? Yes, the FBI. They don’t want this new invention to get out because the car companies would stop contributing to congress. Huh?????????????
At this point I say, f the rudeness of what I’m about to do and I stand up, extend my hand and say, “I’m leaving now.” He stares at me and doesn’t shake my hand. Loser! Oh, I said that already didn’t I? That’s OK, it’s worth repeating. Did he make all this up to get me to leave? Was it a joke?
My male friend Alex told me that guys will do something jerky rather that say, ‘Hey, this isn’t going to work out; have a nice life’. We girls tend to get emotional at that and you know men can’t deal with emotions.
I drive off quickly so he can’t follow me-he could be really psycho for all I know-and head for the park. I think to myself, perhaps I need to start using a paid internet dating service again; it might be worth it.