This is Why I'm Single

There are some days that I get kind of lonely, and I wonder why I can't get myself together enough to earn the love and respect of a woman. Then there are the days that I'm just so horribly wrong in every way that I realize I'm alone for a myriad of reasons, all of which are my own doing. This is the story of when my friend Jess helped me to realize that I was a terrible, terrible date, and I should probably come to terms with the fact that I will die alone.

Jess had just recently moved back to the island after having lived on the mainland for what felt like a decade but was probably less than three years. She had also just learned to drive, which is something that already puts her far out of my league, but she hasn't quite realized that yet. Unfortunately, she lives in our hometown, which is roughly an hour's drive from my current home, and between us there's a mountainous road with increasing traffic congestion and imperfect weather conditions.

Somehow, I convinced Jess that it would be a good idea for her to come and visit me in the middle of winter. And she did her damndest driving over the mountain in the rain for forty-five minutes to come and see just me knowing that she might have to drive back in the dark. I must say, I am in no way worth the trip, so I'm surprised that she so much as left her house when she got my call.

As soon as she arrived she asked what I had planned for us, and I asked her if she had wanted to see Natalie Portman's "Black Swan," which was playing in our downtown theatre. She agreed, as she, too, really wanted to see the movie, and mentioned that we would be taking public transit because she was uncomfortable driving downtown. It made no sense to me that she would be fine driving over a mountain but nervous driving downtown, and I managed to convince her that she would be fine driving, though, in actuality, I just wanted her to drive because I'm poor and didn't have enough bus fare to get me downtown and back home. She then made me promise that we wouldn't drive downtown and instead find a theatre closer to where I was living, which was a fair trade.

As we walked to the car we decided that we wanted to find somewhere to eat, and my first thought was a small restaurant downtown, though I didn't tell her that, what with her unwillingness to drive there. I told her that there was a place near the theatre, and I directed her where to drive, and about ten minutes in I realized that I had taken her down the very wrong street. There was a tense silence as she considered what I was saying and waiting for me to tell her where to turn when we started passing a complex that I knew had both a good restaurant and a theatre that might be playing our movie.

We pulled in, went into the theatre to see what was playing, but our most promising option there was "Yogi Bear 3D," so we turned back. I told her that we could go to the restaurant and eat and we would then be far less stressed when she got back into the driver's seat.

The restaurant sat us immediately, the portions were large and filling, the food was good, and the cost was very little. I paid for both myself and for her, even though we weren't dating, in part because I felt so very guilty for what I was about to do. So I got points for choosing the restaurant, but it really just lulled her into a false sense of security.

We got back into the car and I had to direct her back to my apartment so that I could then direct her down the proper street to get to our theatre. I wish I could get points for not wasting her gas by having her drive all over town to the other theatres, but it's all kind of negated by the fact that I was directing her to the downtown area and just not telling her. At one point she remarked that we were "getting kinda close to downtown..." and I soothed her with "don't worry, we're almost there," and we were almost there. Almost there to the downtown area. It was totally implied.

When she actually realized that we were driving downtown she had a bit of a panic attack and I'm pretty sure she would have swerved off of the road and killed us both had she not been able to focus her rage into keeping us alive. I had never seen her that angry with me before, which I know because she kept telling me that she "[had] never been so mad at [me] before."

Her rage continued to rise as we were unable to find parking for several blocks, and she almost ended up turning onto a one-way street in the wrong direction. But eventually we did find parking...and had no change with which to pay for it. She turned to me and asked if I had any, but seeing as how I didn't have the change to take the bus downtown, which is what made me force her to drive me there in the first place, I told her that I didn't. After she rifled through her purse for a few minutes I did offer up my credit card for her to use in the machine, but I don't think that that made up for anything else that I had done so far that day.

We raced from the parking lot to the theatre, as we were now roughly ten minutes late for our showing, and we were met with gale-force winds. Jess told me that, in that moment, if I were a weather pattern, I would be the wind, because she didn't like the wind, and she didn't like me. I can't really blame her. As far as falling-outs go, wind is one of the more interesting reasons.

We rushed into the theatre, and I'm pretty sure she hit her face on the door because it was locked. A mouth-breathing employee rushed over to let us in, only for us to realize that it was the theatre across the street that was playing "Black Swan," and we were now both late and in the wrong place.

We rushed back out into the wind, which, thankfully, drowned out Jess's mantra of "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you," and I bought our tickets, because, really, I'm not forcing her to pay for anything on this terrible night that I've bequeathed to her. We rushed upstairs and, since we had just eaten dinner, we rushed straight passed the concession and into the darkened theatre. While we had missed the previews, we still managed to get into our seats as the "please turn off your phone" message dissolved and before the actual movie started to play.

I'm very lucky that the movie was amazing, even though it left me wondering what the hell I had just watched. Fear not, cinema-goers, I have since figured out what the film was about.

The drive back to my place went fairly smoothly, and Jess was very happy to be headed away from the downtown area, but she certainly hadn't forgiven me for destroying her life throughout the course of the night. She informed me, as we got back to my apartment, that she would be crashing on my couch for the night and not driving home in the dark, and I, gentlemanly, offered her my bed, but apparently the couch was enough. Maybe I should be insulted that she thought I was so filthy a person that my bed was not to be shared?

Long story short, I've ruined her life, and she hasn't spoken to me since.