By Kimberly Wharton
So I signed up for an online dating service, since all my friends back home said I had to try it. They assured me it was mostly nice guys who simply haven’t had the time to meet women. I later learned this means some of them may not have actually SEEN a woman, unless they were online or in anime. ….I also learned that my friends down south no nothing about men in Los Angeles.
I had mentioned in my profile that I was currently trying to pursue a career in stand-up. This guy, who was quite attractive, popped up. He told me he had made his living in stand-up, and that he had never had to do anything else. He said he’d love to help out a new comedian, maybe help me with my act and give me some guidance.
This was how I learned what ‘guidance’ means in L.A. We plan on seeing a musical about stand-up comedians that I’d heard about. After coming to my front door several times to see if he was there, our bell didn’t work, I finally saw him at about ten after. I opened the door, and at the bottom of my steps, about to walk away was a man…not anything like his picture let me add…which was probably taken ten years earlier, but I digress…he looked pissed.
I called out his name to make sure it was him. He said, yes…he’d been knocking for ten minutes and assumed I’d stood him up. I apologized for not hearing him, and quickly took inside his bottle of wine and potted plant he had brought for me.
We got into his car (Ladies…never do this!) and headed out. The opening number of the show, he grabs my face and sticks his tongue down my throat…which I don’t think is very appropriate during live theater. We also had known each other for about ten minutes.
He then proceeds to take every opportunity during the show to try again. He didn’t stop there, there was ample caressing of my legs and hands, and…let’s just say by the end of the show, he had tried several times to put his hand in my crotch. After the show he asks me if I’m hungry. Just wanting to get home, I say no. He says, “Do you mind if I just swing through taco bell then?” I don’t have a problem with that, so I say, “that’s fine.” He orders. He says, “Can we just swing by my house so I can eat this?” I say, “Where do you live?” He says, “Just around the corner.” …and I stupidly answer…ok.
His apt. is amazing. He has ukuleles all around his living room. He uses them in his act. He eats. I ask about the ukuleles. He begins to teach me some chords. Every time I mess up he gets really angry. A show comes on TV that he’s the warm up act for. He says, “We have to watch it, this one’s great.” We watch. He immediately lays back and begins to grind his crotch up and down…I guess that’s his preparation dance for funny television comedies.
He begins to suck my toes. …I clutch the ukulele to my body. He wants me to wipe the saliva around his face…yes…I did just say that. He then tells me to come to him. The ukulele remains my protective gear. I immediately say, “Drive me home”, just as he whips out his junk.
I assumed, and hoped I’d never hear from him…but he’s called me four times since. The last time I accidentally answered. He said, “Why aren’t you calling me back? I figured I’d give you one last chance and that’s it.” I’m not quite sure how a 37 year old man doesn’t get the hint…but I haven’t called him back.
Oh I failed to mention that at one point I told him I was gonna kick him in the balls. He said, “Please do, I like that”…turns out, he did!
…the search continues.