The Worst Date of All Time: Part 2

Part 2: So I have this samurai sword.

First off, in case you haven’t seen the first part, you can catch it here.

So when we left off, Bodie, my 34-year-old, unemployed, legally blind, Harry-Potter-fan date that lived with his parents, was very excited that his mother wanted to meet me after having spent three hours trying to very obviously hold my hand, my hand that I very obviously had in my pocket. Was I mad because he was blind? No. I was mad because first, he took me to see Harry Potter and I didn’t want to see that, and second, because I believe he was lying to me about being legally blind. The fact that he texted his mother for three hours and then beamed when she wanted to meet me (after our first date) left me to believe that only three possibilities existed:

1. He was just a very sweet guy that loved his mother (not that I want to date this guy, but still)
2. He has secret resentment built up for his mother who probably still dressed him and he would later take it out on whomever he married (not it. I called not it.)
3. She was dead in the basement and he just talked to her anyway.

Fig. 1.1

Bodie's Mom: Dead in a basement

I’ve got to tell you. I was leaning towards the Norman Bates scenario. So the movie was over. I only read two of the books and apparently this movie dealt with material I was in no way familiar with. There was a lot of flying around on brooms and air soccer or something.

Fig. 1.2

Harry Potter and the Movie I Wasn't Interested in Seeing

So the movie ended. He thoroughly enjoyed it, my guess is that the fact that he could SEE IT had a lot to do with that, which is well outside the arena of what I thought a blind person could do, but I’m not a scientist. We walked out to my car and he asked if I wanted to go to Barnes and Nobles. I did not, however, he was nice enough and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Which was stupid. So, so stupid. Bodie taught me two things. The first is to never try to avoid hurting someone’s feelings when they’ve lied to you about being blind. As it turns out, this type of person has no feelings. The second lesson comes up later, so we’ll just address that little gem in part three.

So I’m driving my legally blind date to Barnes and Nobles (Where he will find a book. That is not in Braille or audio format. That he will be able to read. Because he is not blind.) when he hears my iPod playing in the background.

Bodie: Oh. Rap music. I guess that’s fine.

Me: I guess because I’m driving it has to be. (Translation: I am two seconds away from throwing you out of a moving vehicle, which would be a much greater threat if you WERE ACTUALLY BLIND!)

Also, it was Digital Underground. I’m sorry. But first, Digital Underground is more alternative rap than rap. Second, how is anyone opposed to Digital Underground. Shock G?! Tupac?! Get the eff out of my car.

Fig. 1.3

That's right. Sex Packets.

So to avoid vehicular manslaughter, (is it still vehicular manslaughter if you forcefully throw the person from the vehicle?) I changed the subject.

Me: So what are you looking for at the book store? I need one more Christopher Moore book to round out my collection.

Bodie: I don’t really collect books. I collect samurai swords.

Me: …

Bodie: …

Me: Like, a collection of samurai swords?

Bodie: I have two, and they’re incredible.

First, stop it. That is the most irritating collection I’ve ever heard of. Second, two isn’t a collection. It’s two. Get a hold of yourself, Kill Bill. Let’s review the list of what I knew about Bodie before the date:

1. He was a history teacher
2. He lived in a house in Cypress
3. He made good grades in school
4. He loved to read
5. He was 34
6. His name was Bodie and I thought that was awesome

Let’s review what I know at this point in the date:

1. He has no job
2. He lives with his mother 
3. He tells people he’s legally blind
4. He’s probably a habitual liar
5. He forced me to see Harry Potter
6. He texts his mother for hours at a time
7. He hates rap music, even Digital Underground
8. He “collects” samurai swords
9. He doesn’t know what the word “collection” means

Please remember that at this point, we’ve only been together a little over three hours and Harry Potter (Remember? That movie I didn’t want to see?) is about three hours long. I think, at this point, the samurai sword conversation is dead, because I do not respond to the “they’re incredible” comment. Mostly because I have a hard time believing that they are, indeed, incredible. But also because I do not want to perpetuate the horrible line this conversation has taken.

Bodie: Have you ever seen a samurai sword?
Me: That’s what she said?
Bodie: What?

10) He does not watch The Office. And probably has no sense of humor.

You can imagine what happened after that. From the time we were in the car, to the time I was walking through the aisles at Barnes and Nobles, to the time he decided to change the subject and talk about my religion (more about that in a second), he discussed this samurai sword. I know the origins of the samurai sword. I know how they’re cut. I know about their luster. I know what’s special about their handles. I know what Hattori Hanzo made for breakfast the day he died.

I am not interested in samurai swords. I have never been interested in samurai swords. Listening to anyone talk for an hour about something I didn’t care about to begin with did not build affinity for samurai swords. All I can tell you is that by the time we were finished with that conversation, I felt a little like beheading him with a samurai sword.

How to dispose of a head with a samurai sword:

 

I’m going to skip the part where he tells me that his favorite books are “elven novels” (yes. that means novels about elves) and suggested I purchase a book about fairies and just jump straight to the part where he suggested that as a couple, we might not work out because I’m Catholic.

Bodie: By the way, what religion are you? (translation: I’m probably about to judge you)

Me: I’m Catholic. (translation: you are definitely about to judge me)

Bodie: …

Me: …

Bodie: Oh, your people hate my people. We may not be able to date.

Me: Wow. Really? No one told me we had gone back to hating people again. Maybe it’s the new pope. Also, you look German. (Also, I'd rather chew my own arm out of a bear trap then go on a second date with you.)

Bodie: No. I’m a Mason.

Me: Like a Freemason?

Bodie: Yeah. It’s pretty important to me.

Me: Aside from the fact that I don’t hate anyone, you know that the Freemasons aren’t a race of people, right? Like, Chinese, Ukrainian, Canadian, American, Freemason?

Bodie: It’s just that Catholics hate us so much.

I just stared at him in amazement. First, I think that he actually believes the Freemasons are a race. He was supposed to be a history teacher (which is probably why he was jobless, now that I think of it). Second, there are several Freemasons in my church. Guess what. No one hates them. They don’t catch on fire when they walk through the door. When the priest touches them with holy water, there is no smoke. Old Catholic ladies with babushkas and cataracts don’t shake and cry when they are in the vicinity of a Freemason. Also, I think I may be confusing Freemasons with vampires.

Fig. 1.4

Vampires: Not Freemasons 

Bodie: Did I upset you?
Me: No. You should be upset for you. That was pretty stupid. You ready to go yet?
Bodie: You want to go get dinner?
Me: No, thanks. I’m not really that hungry.
Bodie: Would you mind driving me to Free Birds? I hate to ask my mom when I get home.
Me: Oh yeah. Because you’re blind. Funny how I forgot. Sure.

You know how you leave your apartment and it’s raining and you get all the way out to your car, unlock it, put your seatbelt on, fix your iPod, turn the engine on and then wonder if you turned off some horrible electrical appliance, like a flat iron or a coffee maker? And you’re pretty sure that you did because you’re a creature of habit and you don’t want to walk all the way back in the rain, so you drive away? But you get about two miles down the road and now you really can’t remember turning off said electrical appliance whose only job is to create massive amounts of heat? And now you’re worrying because there’s no way, if a fire were to break out, your two dogs would escape alive and also your favorite pink heels that the dog hasn’t eaten are still in there and you’ll NEVER be able to find them again? But by the time all of this has transpired you’re even further away so you don’t go back and now all day you have to worry about the fate of your dogs, apartment and heels? Imagine that nagging feeling, multiply it by three thousand, and that's how I felt after I said I would take him to grab something to eat.

This except from Sponge Bob is very similar to, one, how I felt listening to Bodie’s stories and, two, what I expected to happen at any second.

When bad things happen to good people:

 

Choosing to take Bodie to Free Birds felt very, very similar to this. Except worse. Because it felt like that explosion could easily be Bodie and me in my car.

I heard that sometimes Freemasons spontaneously combust.