Story 2: Dodging at Dodger Stadium

A friend of mine had 6 killer tickets to a Dodgers game. She and her boyfriend got two, two more to another couple we were friends with, and then two for...well, me. No boyfriend at the time, and I was really good friends with everyone going, so I didn't feel obligated to find a date, but the option was there if I found someone I wanted to bring.


The night before the game I was out with my girls at a bar, and I met this guy. He was sweet, actually listened to me when I spoke, not too clingy, quite nice! Did I mention he happened to be wearing a Dodgers hat? Well isn't that perfect! I started thinking about inviting him to the game, but I knew it would go against some of my personal guidelines. I date enough I have general rules for dating. Maybe now's a good time to quickly go over some of those:

1) Always meet for at least the first two dates. I want an out if I need it, and you never know which guys have stalking tendencies. I don't need creepy dudes knowing where I live.

2) No dates that make me stuck in any one place for more than 3 hours. If you don't understand that one, then you've never been in a car with someone you don't like for hours on end and you literally can't do anything about it.


There are more personal dating guidelines I follow, but these two apply to my errors in this story, so we can address the others later.


Anyway, back to Dodger McGee. I decide to invite him to the game with me. We discuss schedules and it works out best for me to pick him up from his place after I'm done with work. I happen to be a big baseball fan and the tickets we have a super sweet, so we went before the other two couples because I really want to see batting practice. So now in one foul swoop I've broken my first two rules. Who cares! He seemed so nice and funny and sweet and he really "got me" so what's the harm? It'll be fine. And I get to watch batting practice with someone else who loves watching baseball, so we're all good!


The next day, I get to his house and I think, oooh, a house in LA! No one has a house in LA! Well played, having me come here and see the swanky digs. I call him from his driveway to let him know I'm here, and he comes outside followed by a lady probably in her early 60s. Not exaggerating at all, she literally kissed him on the cheek and patted his head. Um, ok. He gets in the car and I ask him if his mom is visiting. Nope, he lives with his parents. He then starts listing the awesome reasons he still lives with them like how he doesn't have to do laundry or cook. Well isn't that fab. Now I'm thinking, ok, maybe I won't be dating this guy, but at least I have someone to watch baseball with. For the rest of the car ride, conversation is awkward, but I somehow get through it.


We get to the stadium and as soon as we get out of the car, he pulls me in close as we start walking. I'm 6'1", so it's really not the easiest thing in the world for someone to walk with their arm around my waist, but by god, Dodger McGee was determined to make it work. I'm not the most touchy-feely girl in the world, so I keep trying to get out of it, but no dice. Sigh.


We go inside, get our beers and sit down. The seats are amazing! It was so cool to see everyone up close and watch them just swinging away just as the sun was setting. We were right in front of first base, and it was so great just seeing the players enjoying the sport before the actual competition, and I recommend it to anyone who likes watching baseball. As it turns out, Dodger McGee was clearly a poser and had zero interest in the game. He was sitting to the right of me, and just kept rambling about nothing at all. I can't even tell you what he was saying, mostly because I wasn't paying attention. I just kept my eye on whoever was at bat. Whenever I did turn my attention back to him, he'd scare the bugeezus out of me because he'd be all up in my face thinking he was being sexy and creating sexual tension, but it turns out he only generated normal tension. After about an hour, I got a call from my friends, and it turned out that the six tickets were in groups of two no where near each other. Two behind home plate, two down the third base line, and us at first base. Now I know I'm alone for the night, and worse yet, he knows we're alone. I guess this was the starting flag for him to think we get to make out all game long. As if he wasn't man-handling me enough before, he has now managed to put his arm around me far enough that his hand that should be on my shoulder is now somehow trying to cup my boob. How is that even possible? I kept brushing him away and while I was distracted with that, he kept trying to hold on to my inter thigh with his other hand. Every time I turned to face him, he'd try to kiss me. It was the awkward leaning-in-with-his-mouth-open-and-tongue-twitching-inside-his-open-mouth kind of kiss attempt. I'm surprised I didn't get drooled on. He seemed to think all of my moving his hands and leaning away from kisses was just me playing hard to get, so I finally just told him there were so many kids around and this was inappropriate. He backed off a little, but it was still a constant battle.


As if all of this wasn't enough, he then started talking with the random couple sitting next to us. Thank god! He's talking to someone else! I can finally watch some of the game! After a few minutes I start listening back in to their conversation, and I overhear the following: "Oh, these are your season ticket seats? That's great! You've been married for years and you come to every game? How sweet!" Ok, that's harmless convo. I give my attention back to the game. Then I hear, "Oh no, this is just our first date, but I can tell there will be MANY more to come. Maybe we should make this an annual thing and the four of us can come to the same game in the same seats all together every year!" Ok, no longer harmless. I look over and this couple is visibly as uncomfortable as I'm feeling. They also clearly want to be watching the game and are well aware I'm not feeling this amazing connection he feels.

At this point, it's the bottom of the 6th. They haven't even stopped selling alcohol yet. I'm in effing awesome seats, and the game was tied. I weighed out the pros and cons. Those were my only pros and I couldn't enjoy a one of them. Ok, time to go.


I fake yawn and tell him I have to get to work early in the morning and I'm really sleepy. I thought I could make it the whole game, but wouldn't you know it, I was just too tired. In the car ride home, he continued to ramble. Ramble ramble ramble. I let him go. Do your thing man. Whenever there was a lul, I'd ask what's the best exit to take to get to his house. His answer? Well, you can take any of the next three exits, but maybe we should go hang out at your place. Um, what? Did you think we left the game early so you could get some? I tell him I'm taking him home. "Are you sure? I would love to see where you live!" I bet you would. No. Taking you home. "I don't mind staying up later. We should really go to your place." I reminded him that I was the one who was tired and I did mind staying up later. His response? "Well we can't hook up at my parents' house because they're probably still awake." I tell him that isn't an issue. I'm taking you home.

I should have told him right then an there that I wasn't interested and please don't call, but I felt bad. I thought I'd shunned him, blocked him, and avoided contact as much as humanly possible that night and I didn't need to rub in how I felt by bold faced saying, "If you didn't get it by my behavior, I don't like you," so he got out of the car and I figured that was the end of it. Dodger McGee then continued to call me twice a week for the next two months. So ladies, and as far as I know this applies to gentlemen as well, no matter how clear you think you're being, and/or how hard you think it is, just tell the person you don't want to see them again. Then you won't have to do what I did which is put "Ick" at the front of their name in your address book so when they call you know right away it's a weirdo and you don't want to answer that call.