As I arrived his clear relief that I had actually turned up was evident, as was the empty bottle of wine that sat on the table next to the other half-drunken bottle – sitting down and eyeing up the pre-poured glass of wine, that sat just millimeters away.
I had to endure 20 painfully un-interesting facts about wine thrown at me before I was even allowed a sip! – I have never lusted after an alcoholic beverage so much in my life!
I then watched in repulsion as he practically downed the next bottle of wine (I barely had a few sips of my own glass and I’m pretty sure by his slurring that this was his 3rd bottle) and that’s when it dawned on me – is this how I come across after I’ve consumed a substantial amount of wine? A woman drunk on wine (if anything like me) is not a pretty sight! – but a man drunk on wine is just a whole other level that I have never experienced, nor ever want to again.
Whilst he had by this point loosened up slightly and I was beginning to think he actually wasn’t that bad, just maybe a little too much wine?
Oh how wrong could I be…
His confidence began to overflow with each glass that he consumed, his incisive insistence of me telling him every aspect of my life, down to the tiniest detail and his completely rude abruptness when I refused to tell him which bars I usually go to. ‘I promise I won’t turn up there’ was said with such a skin curdling, sinister smile that I wanted to stand in a shower and scrub my skin!
Noticing my lack of interest, he then seemed to take the humour path and his attempt was more painful than watching a cat being run over (and I love cats).
However he then became seriously creepy, which is when I knew it was Home Time!
Making excuses and ‘that my bus would be here soon’, he would not leave my side, to my horror exclaiming that he would walk me there and wait with me. Oh God! I quickly countered his idea, insisting that he didn’t have to because I would be going MacDonald’s first – this proved to be my biggest mistake!
He followed me into a very packed MacDonald’s where he began shouting at the top of his voice ‘we’re having a romantic meal’ – really?! Weaving myself into a different queue, as far away as possible, I silently prayed to God that no-one saw me walk in with him!
My prayers were not answered…instead his fog-horn voice descended across the crowded queues as he began shouting at me. The whole of MacDonald’s turned to stare at me. I cannot even put into words the humiliation of this moment.
I quickly got my burger and was about to run out without him seeing me – until his bellowing voice boomed again – ‘Where are you going? We’re having a romantic meal.’ Sensing his aggressive stalker personality shining through, with the added intense fear that he was going to follow me home, I complied to his demands just as a kidnap victim would. I smiled, sat down and ate my burger, at such speed that I was just inflicting indigestion upon myself, but the faster I ate the sooner I could escape.
As I shovelled my double cheeseburger into my face (which is not a good look on anybody), he began to take photos of me on his phone – without my permission – I could take no more, I had to flee, still chewing.
I have blocked his number.