In my last post i spoke of a guy I consider to be one of the worst dates I ever went on. I normally don't share these kinds of stories, but since this was about 6 years ago now, I think the polite waiting period has passed, and I can share.
We'll call him Presley.
Presley and I met online through an LDS dating site. I could tell his photos were somewhat old because they were not digital pictures, but obviously scanned photographs. I asked him for more recent (or just more) photos several times, and he always made excuses. The pictures I saw were of a healthy, fit, young man, who told me he had never been married, and had no kids.
I met him on the second day after I moved to Utah. If he had had his way we would have met on the first day. He asked (and asked, and asked, and asked and then finally begged) me to literally drive across the country and straight to his house. He got irritated with me when I said I had other plans and wanted to go to my new home and get some sleep. I had planned to wait for the weekend to maybe meet him. But his constant pestering (which included looking up the name of the company I worked for- my first day of work, mind you- and calling me at work) finally convinced me to give in.
I just drove all the way across the country and then started a job the very next morning. Obviously I am exhausted. I don't think it was unreasonable to expect or ask Presley to come pick me up for the date. But apparently that was just a dumb idea!
So even though my car was still laden down with all of my earthly possessions, I drove to his house for the first date. I also wasn't crazy about the idea of meeting at his house, but he promised he would wait for me outside on the sidewalk and I wouldn't have to go in. I still didn't love the idea, but I agreed to it.
I called him when I pulled up in front of his duplex. I didn't have his house number. I still remember vividly seeing him standing behind the screened door watching me. It was way too obvious that his plan was to check me out, and if I didn't pass, he would have hidden from me. I called him and could see/hear him holding the phone. But until I got out of the car, he wouldn't answer. (So dumb!)
Once he finally came out, I actually thought I was wrong about what I had already guessed about him. I figured he couldn't be the guy from the photos, and it must just be a coincidence he was watching me from the door. He weighed easily 100-150 lbs more than his pictures (double his weight), and was 12 years older than those pictures. I didn't recognize him at all!
He introduced himself to me as Presley- the name I had seen for him online as well. He tried to get me to go inside his apartment. I said no. He whined and whined. I finally agreed to stand at the doorway while I waited for him to get something. From the doorway I could see his place was totally trashed- literally! There was trash all over the place!
He found his shoes and wallet and said, "Would you like to go get drinks?" I thought that was a strange plan considering we were both Mormon, and therefore, neither of us drinks alcohol, but I shrugged and said yes. But oh no! My concerns were in vain! He didn't take me to a happy hour or to a bar! We walked to 7-11 and got drinks! Soft drinks to be exact! And then we walked back to his place.
I felt comfortable by then and agreed to go inside his nasty, gross apartment. We're talking half-empty containers of week-old Chinese food on the couch beside me, piles of take-out boxes on the floor, etc. I intentionally sat on the love seat after he sat on the couch. He got up and joined me on the loveseat. It was awkward to say the least.
And then he pulled out his photo album and his guitar.
He wanted to show me the pictures of himself before he gained so much weight. I found the pictures I had seen online. It was in the real pictures that I realized he had on a missionary name tag. They weren't just older photos- they were ancient! He had intentionally put up pictures of him 12-14 years younger.
Some of the pages were scrapbooked (but not all). That was when I noticed that his pictures didn't say "Presley" on it, they said, "Elvis." (Obviously not his real name.) I asked why they said Elvis and not Presley. He told me he didn't trust his real identity with girls he meets online (because everyone lies) so he gave me a fake name.
I turn the page and found several pictures of him holding a newborn baby. I asked about the baby. He shrugged.
He then pulls out his guitar from under some fast food bags that hid the case. He INSISTS on singing me a long song. He asks for requests. I made a few. He didn't know any of them (sorry, can't remember what they were). He sings a song he thinks he knows. It was awful. He had to stop and adjust his fingers through every major chord, couldn't carry a tune, and because of his size, the size of the guitar, and the loveseat, there is NO room on that little loveseat. I got pushed further and further off the edge of the couch.
I try to ignore the singing and look more at his photo album. I notice he's in more pictures with the baby who has had multiple birthdays. I ask him about it again. He finally gets annoyed, puts the guitar down, and explains it is his son.
Son? I thought you said you were never married and had no kids.
"Well, since I don't have custody and don't ever see him, I don't count him."
Wow. That's a first.
Turns out he got an ex-girlfriend pregnant. He tried to convince me he didn't know about the baby until he was 4 years old. Except! All those pictures of him at the hospital and at birthday parties kind of said otherwise. To this day still suspect there was more than one child.
But the singing, oh the singing. it was so bad! He pins me into a corner on the loveseat and insists on serenading me. He never got the words right (to the song he picked), the tune right, or anything else. I politely sat there and waited for the song to end. I was trapped in the corner. Finally, the song ended (or he gave up- either way, happy day!) and he divebombed me to try and kiss me.
He really and truly kissed my hand. I raised my hand so fast to deflect him, that he ended up kissing the palm of my hand.
I practically ran. I could not get out of there fast enough.
He continued to attempt to call me for weeks. He asked me out "for drinks" several times. I always said no to every invitation. About a year later one of my friends got involved with him online. He was still using his ancient mission pictures and claiming to not have any children. And still telling people his name was Presley (which was not his name at all).