27. Tiger Ears, Potential Stalkers and a Date with No Smell – Part 2

Hello Lovely Readers,

I meant to update this a couple of days ago but my social live caught up with me and I’ve been catching up with friends the last few evenings rather than dating for a change.

My second cautionary tale is of a date that did happen and what I like to think was a lucky escape. Again this harks back to my early adventures on Match.com.

I had already been on one date with Psycho Boy (you’ll find out why he is so named later on) several weeks before. It had been a pretty good first date, we’d got on pretty well, had a couple of drinks and ended up continuing on to a club nearby.

At the end of the night we kissed and there was a definite spark between us. But then… radio silence… It seemed odd, as he’d appeared so keen to the point where he was trying to persuade me to stay over.

Yes I admit I was pretty naive still, and I hadn’t realised that my refusal could be precisely why he’d dropped me faster than an epileptic guy trying to juggle hot coals in an eighties strobe-lit roller disco.

Several weeks later I get a call from Psycho Boy, it turned out he’d had an accident and been in hospital for some time with concussion.

Yes, it actually happened – the excuse that I always imagine is the real reason why a guy just disappears into the ether from whence he came, never to be heard from again, actually came into being.

See! It’s not just an urban myth (whilst we’re on the subject – I did once have a guy claim his long absence and lack off communication was because the Danish military police were interrogating him as a suspected spy – he was an actor and he seemed quite put out that I didn’t find his story that plausible).

Given that Psycho Boy’s excuse was 98% more believable than the Danish Actor’s, I decided that I would meet him for a second date. It turns out he’d been on a work night out, gotten totally smashed, fallen down some stairs and cracked the back of his head open – he even showed me the scar!

Unfortunately the blow had caused him to loose his sense of smell and taste. The net impact of this was that it changed his personality somewhat too. He wasn’t anywhere near as light-hearted as the first time I’d met him, and he admitted that he was really struggling to adapt a lifetime of bland food.

I actually felt a bit bad for him, and I was feeling the need for some physical affection too so I ended up going back to his place. It was only when we started to get intimate that he seemed to have a real problem with my confidence.

He asked me why I always felt the need to be in control and wanted me to lie back and let him take charge. Okay… so he clearly likes to be in control too, and that’s fine as long as we’re both comfortable with what’s going on.

The weird bit was what he said in the middle of us having sex… He looked me dead in the eye, put his hand round my throat and said:

“God, this feels so right! It feels like I own you… Doesn’t it feel like I own you?”

“Erm, not really no, it feels like I own me”

I left pretty sharpish after that as quite frankly he was creeping me out and I found his darker side pretty unnerving.

I really believe I dodged a bullet there and I don’t regret my over-cautiousness for a moment. There are plenty of nice guys out there who are not creepy at all and who don’t want to own or possess the woman they’re with and thankfully they are the rule rather than the exception.

If you’re getting the feeling that someone is a wrong-un, well you know what, they probably are. My spidey senses may not be right every time but I’d really rather be safer and single than end up in a dangerous relationship with a control freak.

Well that’s going to have to be it for now as I’m meeting up with Football Guy this evening and I need to prep…

But I will give you part 3 of this tale over the weekend.

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