The Professor: Otherwise known as the Worst Date of My Life

The year was 2010, the month, October.  The exact date, I cannot recall.  I think it was a Wednesday.  It has taken me a year to come to terms with this.  And now that I have, I feel as if I need to share this experience.  Why do I need to share this??  I don't know.  Sometimes, I like to share borderline embarrassing and or humiliating stories about myself with large amounts of people.

Here is what led up to the worst date of my life:

I hadn’t been on a “first date” for six years.  I was 23 when I met my former domestic partner and therefore, had been out of the game for a while. 

My mom had been dropping major hints.  Apparently, she would one day like to see me get married.  I get a call one day from her and she says:  "Hey Shan, there is this free weekend thing that eHarmony is doing...I'm just sayin."  I laugh, and tell her, "No way."

A couple weeks later I sign up for eHarmony.

I call my mom the next day to tell her, "I hope you're happy." (insert angry tone of my voice).

So at any rate, this is where I meet "The Professor".  And subsequently experience, the worst date ever.

He seemed really interesting.  He had traveled to a lot of different countries, taught at several different colleges, was an Architect, and knew how to spell.  I don’t even want to admit this…but we exchanged emails for weeks.  Weeks.  I found him interesting.  

We decide to meet.  

Dos Rios, downtown Des Moines, was the designated meeting spot.  AKA, where it all went down.

Dos Rios

Here is what I expected to meet:  an attractive male in his mid-30's, that was 5'7, with an "athletic build" (per his profile and pictures).  

I did not meet the above stated guy.  Who I met was someone entirely different.

On my way into the restaurant I get a text from him saying that he was there.  I walk in and peak around.  I cannot find him.  

I text him back saying, “Where are you?”  

He texts, “I’m at the bar.”  

I say, “I’m at the bar and I don’t see you.”  

He says, “Ok, I’ll stand up so you can see me.”

I walk back into the bar and look around.  There is no one there that looks like The Professor from eHarmony.  There was however, one guy sitting with his back turned to me.  But surely, this couldn't be him.  The guy that had his back turned to me, didn't even remotely resemble The Professor.  

So, in order to determine whether or not this was in fact my date, I had to fully enter the restaurant.   And since his back was turned to me, I had to walk in front of his line of vision to see if it was him.  

I walked right in front of this guy and looked him in the eyes.  

The stranger looked back at me and then yelled out, “There you are!!” 

COMPLETE AND UTTER PANIC STARTED TO SET IN.

For about 10 seconds I didn't say a word.  I couldn’t.  Nothing would come out.  I was at a total loss for words.  I don’t know what exactly he said first.  Something about how he though about bringing me flowers…

My first words to him were,  “Wow, sorry, I totally didn't recognize you."

The Professor:  “Oh yeah, those pictures were seven years ago…before the accident.”

Me:  “Accident?”

The Professor: “Yeah, I was in a motorcycle accident 7 years ago and the pictures were from before I was in a coma.”

Ok, we’ll revisit the whole accident thing later…

Visually, this is what I observed:  He was not in fact 5’7.  How do I know this??   When I walked up to him, he was standing (not sitting, like I thought he was) and came up to a my shoulders.  I’m 5’5 and was wearing flats.  So my guess is that he was 5’2 at most.  This was my first observation.

Second observation...his attire.  Ok, I'm not a fashion guru or anything, but I do follow the fashion rules of the decade I happen to be living in.

He had on what appeared to be a leather Member's Only color blocked jacket...Like something you would see in a Color Me Badd video.  

Imagine this jacket, only worse.

Under this jacket he was wearing a green silk shirt, and medium toned acid washed jeans.  I never got to his shoes.

What hit me next was the stench.  It smelled like he'd been hanging out in my grandma's basement...combined with the smell of:  old cigarettes, mold, and poor air circulation.

So as I'm standing there, taking it all in...

He hands me his resume.  (Jokingly, a couple days ago I said "Bring your resume.")  Well, he actually did bring it.  Not only did he bring it...


He had it laminated and made into a book...just for me.  It was 67 pages.

I sit down at the bar with him.

I had to.  I had his resume in my hands...and seriously, when someone hands you something like that, you have to look at it.  Additionally, I had already wasted an hour getting ready, doing my hair and makeup...and another half hour driving there.  In my mind, I was already an hour and a half into this mess and my entire night was shot.  

Alright, so I go through his resume.  I am stalling.  I'm trying to figure a way out of this thing.  As I am flipping through the pages and asking open ended questions (to stall for additional time) he tells me, "Sorry, if I smell like smoke...I've been smoking medical marijuana all day."  Ok.  So that explains the smell. 

He ordered a shot.  Asked me if I wanted one.  "No thank you", I replied.  He then whispered in my ear "I had a couple before I left my house earlier..."

Good to know.

From this point on, I don't remember all of the specifics...due to the fact that the entire time I was trying to craft my escape.  About 30 minutes into it I realized that this is probably going to get worse...and it did.  

So he continued to get black out drunk and told me about many things.  One of those things being his motorcycle accident and therefore subsequent Traumatic Brain Injury.  A couple points of interest with that whole story was:

1.     For quite some time he believed his name to be "Wolf Guitar"

2.     He once answered his front door naked...for the mayor of a city he was drafting city plans for.

He still rides a motorcycle.

Among the many many many more bizarre things he divulged...He told me that I was his 4th eHarmony date...And that the other three "Did not end well."  Weird.

At one point he got up to go to the bathroom.  Upon his exit, the bartender lunged at me, phone in hand.  Bartender said "What's your number??  I'll get you out of this!!"  Then the waiter jumped in and said, "Are you ok??  I just heard you call him a serial killer?!"  (I had called him a serial killer at one point...to his face...He responded...by laughing...LIKE A SERIAL KILLER WORLD.)  

In addition, I would like to point out that everyone in the restaurant watched this debacle go down.  At first it was obvious glances...but it eventually turned into everyone's entertainment for the evening.  I told the bartender and waiter not to worry, and that I needed to get myself out of this mess.  

The Professor returned. 

 He proceeded to shout out random things. The bartender and him almost got into it.  I could go on and on about the shouting and what not...but believe me, it was bad.

I did not want to leave.  Why?? 

Because leaving would mean that I would have to walk out with him...which would increase the amount of public embarrassment...and he would most likely try to hug me or have some sort of bodily contact.

I decided I could no longer take it.  He wanted to continue the date and go somewhere else (Apparently in his mind it went well...)  I told him I didn't feel well.  (Which wasn't a lie, I was physically ill from the entire experience).  We walked out together.  Well I walked...he sort of hobbled.  

I don't know what happened, but when I hit the front door of the restaurant...

An animal instinct came over me and I just started to run.

I hurdled over the huge planters in front of the restaurant.  The only way I can explain it was kind of like a:   Bo-and-Luke-Duke-type-of-slide-across-the-General Lee thing. 

Planters I hurdled Bo-and-Luke-Duke style

Bo, Luke Duke, and the General Lee

As I ran down the street, I turned and yelled to him "I'll call you!!!!"


When I got to my car my mom called me.  Naturally, she wanted all the details on my date.  At this point I started crying and hit the highlights of my date.

She said, "Shan, he sounds like a stalker, you need to make sure he isn't following you home."
I tell her, "There's no way he could be following me." 
 "Why?" she asked
"Because he has a broken hip mom!" I replied.
"What??!!!" she said
"Long story mom...Look I need to go so I can process this." I said.

I hung up.  My mom, the sometimes eternal optimist called back 5 minutes later to say, "Honey, I know you're upset right now, but think of it this way...You'll never go on a date like that again.  This will be your worst date.  It can only go up from here."  


The Professor texts me when I got home:  "Did I have a hole in my shirt the entire time LOL?"


I did not reply.


The Professor emailed me the next day:  "I haven't heard from you.  Did things not go well?  LOL."


I did reply.  


What I replied back saying, is of no importance.  It was something along the lines of "It's You, Not Me."




The important thing is that you now have experienced your worst date ever...vicariously through me.

As with all experiences in my life, I try to look at the positives of this entire encounter.  The good thing is that I seriously doubt, that I can ever have a worse date.  In addition, you got to read about this mess.

If you happen to be single...my hopes are that maybe this story will make your worst date seem not so bad.

If you're married...my hope is that this story will solidify your sanctity in marriage and you will be relieved that you and your boo no longer have to date.

If you are married and are thinking of becoming single....my hope is that this story will deter you from becoming unmarried.   

So yeah, you're welcome.