DATE SEVEN

LUCKY NUMBER SEVEN?

As promised, I bring to you Date Seven, from Match.com. To refresh your memory, because I know it’s been awhile (I've been busy doing actual fun things such as not dating men from the internet), I was able to lock in this date prior to quitting Match a few weeks ago. 

Hmm, what shall I call this guy? What lovely nickname shall I give him? Well I’m gonna go with Aquaman. I realize that Aquaman is one of the lamest DC characters ever, however, much like Aquaman, he’s a tall blonde with blue eyes and he frequents the beach. And lives by the beach. I’m talking beach house status.

Bring it on Aquaman.

Fine, I’ve been playing a lot of Injustice lately as Aquaman so he’s been on my mind. But I gave some pretty solid parallels between Aquaman and Subject 7….well, enough to justify calling him Aquaman. So I’m gonna stick with it.

YOU HAVE ARRIVED AT YOUR DESTINATION
So, Aquaman and I meet up at a pier (ah, see, piers are by the beach! And so is Aquaman!). I put the address into my Navi and hope for the best. Once it tells me that I’ve arrived at my destination, I park in the first spot I find and look around. I have no idea where the hell I am, as usual. 

He didn’t actually specify where to meet him at. I mean, sure “let’s meet at the pier” is a great start, but it’s very broad. The Pier has many places on it, so which one am I to be standing in front of so that you know it’s me?

 
I text him that I’ve arrived and he tells me to meet him at the Bank of America. I can see the B of A from where I’ve parked, so at least I know where to walk towards.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS
I walk over and I see a bunch of guys who could be him. About 5’10” with dirty blonde hair, tan skin, blue eyes, some arm tattoos and an ‘athletic build’ …I’m near a goddamn beach in SoCal and I’m surrounded by guys who meet this criteria. Anybody could be Aquaman, anybody!! 

While I’m waiting, I decide to make a quick phone call. 5 minutes or so later, I'm pretty sure I spot him (also talking on his phone) and he comes right up to me and hugs me. The best part about this hug is that we are both still on the phone at this time, and not with eachother.

What a magical first encounter.

Once we both get off the phone and he removes his sunglasses, I can totally see his resemblance to the Aquaman. Let's get this show on the road....err, water. 

LE CHAT
I will admit, he is a good looking man and therefore I’m setting the bar pretty low for his ability to hold an intellectual conversation with me. Why? Because in my experience so far, at least with Match and POF, the better looking the guy, the more dense the guy is, and/or the higher the probability of him being a colossal douchebag. Let’s hope that’s not the case here.

We have a seat at a place on the pier and order a couple of drinks. I’m surprised when admits to me that he likes to drink fruity girly drinks because they taste better than manly drinks, as the sugar content in them typically does a good job of masking the flavor of hard liquor. (dude that’s totally something Aquaman would say) So we both order the same girly pineapple drink, and he owns it! Why, he’s not ashamed at all about drinking a fruity beverage with a little umbrella on the glass.

Aquaman claims that he used to be a racecar driver and that he lived in France for a while. I won’t bore you all with the details because I’m sure none of that is interesting to anybody else, but the conversation was moving along quite nicely.

FANCY A STROLL TO THE CAR FOR A FONDLE OR TWO?
Homeboy has a brand new Audi and I wanna check it out, so off we go to his car. We continue to talk and then he pulls me in for the goodnight kiss. Then the PDA begins.

For reference, in this situation, PDA does not stand for Public Display of Awesomeness; rather, it’s Public Display of Affection. Unwanted affection. Back off Aquaman.

 

Being that we are still on a pier and that it’s a Saturday night, there are a ton of people walking by. Some are drunk already and probably have zero fucks to give about what the two of us are doing, but there are others who I’m sure do not appreciate public fondling. 

He senses my discomfort and opens the car door and tells me to get in. Hold up, am I about to be kidnapped? Naw, I am pretty sure I’m safe with Aquaman. I get in the vehicle so that I can later regret my decision as I deal with the consequences. I do it for the blog.

AND THEN AQUAMAN ASKS ME TO TOUCH HIS TRIDENT
Ladies and gentlemen, more specifically, I direct this question to the gentlemen: What the actual fuck is wrong with your gender? Seriously, are there any decent men!? This one wasn’t even from POF, he is from Match! Match is supposed to be better than POF. What in holy hell is going on here!? 

He requested that I place my hand in his pants and then comment on it. Am I hearing this correctly? Have I gone mad? No, no I’m quite sure I heard that accurately, as he grabs my hand and begins to move it towards his junk.

Oh I’ll put something between your legs, but it won’t be my hand sir.

I can’t help but to laugh at this moment because of course, this date couldn’t just end normally. Dammit Aquaman, I can’t believe you of all people busted that out. I would expect this type of behavior from a jerk like Superman, but Aquaman, really?! 

TOO FAR FROM HOME
Aquaman is what I call geographically undesirable since he lives by the beach and I live in the valley, nowhere near the beach. Prior to him walking me to my car, you know, after asking me to check out the party in his pants, he tells me that he’s actually moving in a few weeks to a location that is still near the beach, just a different beach; a beach that is closer to me, but still undesirably far. 

THE ODD TEXTS AFTERWARD
He does text me a few days later to ask what I’m doing on the 4th of July. I’m not doing a god damned thing, but I am also pretty sure that I’m not going to be fiddling with his dick either. I tell him I’m busy. Not in a “I have plans already” type of way, but in more of a “I’ll be playing video games, which is better than driving 40 miles to touch your wiener” type of way.

 
He texts me a day later to let me know that he had a crazy night with his friends and thinks they were “roofied.” Hmm, I'm curious as to why you feel that you and your friends were given the date rape drug Rohypnol. Were you raped? Did you maybe ask somebody else to evaluate your junk and they took it the wrong way?

He tells me a story about how he and his friends were at a bungalow that belongs to an ex- NBA player and they ordered a bottle of something that sounds fancy and each took one drink and found themselves way too drunk. Then something about a friend puking in the cab and parts being fuzzy, but that he didn’t think he was raped.

Hmm, yeah pretty sure you'd know if you had been raped. Unless you're so used to taking it in the ass that you feel nothing at all afterward.

ANY CHANCE OF A DATE SEVEN PART II?
Do you even have to ask? He’s moving to the closer beach in less than 5 days. I’m sure he will be busy packing, having random hands in his pants, and moving. That should keep him busy enough not to text me.

Buh bye AquaPerv!