Chronicles Continued

Everyone has accused of making up the first bad-date story, so I hesitate to tell the next one, which tops it. But I'm going to, anyway, which means I'm skipping right over two other professor stories and a few miscellaneous tales of dud.

This too occurred while I was a UGA student in Athens. The man was a regular customer at the Gyro Wrap, where I waited tables. He was in his thirties, divorced. We went out for pizza a time or two, and he was nice enough. Then he made dinner for me one night at his little farmhouse in nearby Winterville, where I met his five-year-old son I didn't know he had. While Dad assembled the salads, the kid played twenty thousand questions with me, ending with, "Are you gonna spend the night?" (The answer was no.) After he put his son to bed, he sat me in front of the fireplace and read to me from T.S. Eliot. Now, you guys might think that would be my idea of a perfect time, but I was 19. On the inside, I was rolling my eyes and wishing up a cab. Really, I'm not sure I would like a man reading to me, even now.

That didn't stop me from letting him take me home to Atlanta the next weekend (I didn't have a car). The plan was, we'd go out and then he'd drop me at my mother's. Unfortunately, after several hours at Backstreet and the Limelight, I was rendered incapable of giving him directions, or even an address. I guess I passed out in his car.

When I woke up the next morning, I was in a strange bed, facing a sky-blue wall. I turned over and there he was, still sleeping. I looked down and was relieved to see I was still wearing my sweater and drawers. My jeans were folded on the dresser. I had to pee, so I ventured out in search of the bathroom. I walked into a den or living room, where a woman who looked to be in her thirties sat on the couch. She panned me up and down, taking in my bare legs and feet, no expression on her face. I told her I was looking for the toilet, and she pointed left. When I walked through again, an older couple had joined her. No one spoke as I hurried past on my way back to my pants.

Turns out, he had taken me to his ex-wife's parents' house. The woman on the couch had been his ex.