Dating Horror Story #2

Remember Magdalena? Well, gather round the fire and toast your marshmallows, because it's time for another Super Fly dating horror story.

I first saw Abigail (nicknamed after the character in Arthur Miller's The Crucible) in April or May of 2001, when I took my first course from Professor Augustus. Abigail always dressed to kill: long skirts, or nice jeans, and always a sweater or a blouse or something. The girl seemed to radiate class, self-respect, and confidence. She was clearly, utterly, totally out of my league, and I knew it. I saw her on campus a couple of times, but seeing as how that first course I took from Professor Augustus was a junior-level course (and I was still a Freshman during Spring Term 2001), I figured she was most likely a graduating senior.

I next saw Abigail in January of 2002, when I took my next course from Professor Augustus. She sat with this crazy guy, who I'll call Eddie for no apparent reason. Eddie was raised by wolves... Excuse me, hippies. He went to a Jesuit high school, knew some Latin and some Greek, spent some time studying in Rome, smoked a lot of cannabis, and sang in the choir. He was a semi-gifted historian, and he was convinced that he was going to figure out who the Sea People were. He constantly asked extremely complex questions in class, questions that nobody understood.

A side note about Eddie... Once I got to know him, I wasn't as convinced as everyone else was that he was a genius. In the time I've been at [Generic University], I've put in as much time as he ever did on research, I've probably written at least as much as he did (or will within two weeks), et cetera. The thing about Eddie was that he was always so energetic, and had such outlandish questions, that he put up a great facade. In fact, he had Attention Deficit Disorder, and it was an absolute chore to study with him. Stay tuned.

The other side note about Eddie, and then I promise to get back to Abigail. Eddie was a sort of legendary character, and a lot of people (particularly the folks related to either the History, Music, and Foreign Language departments) knew who he was. I know for a fact that he was a cannabis dealer, because a girl I used to work with at the music store once told me that he'd been her dealer. At any rate, there was a legend from his time in the dorms that he'd had a solid pound of grass, basically in brick form, and that the police were once on their way to come search his room. As legend has it, Eddie the Golden Boy got so freaked out that his resident advisor had to flush this brick of cannabis down the toilet before the police could get there to arrest Eddie. True or false? Who knows, but it makes for a good story to post on a blog.

At any rate, I saw Abigail when I was seeing Black Hawk Down. I waved at her, since we were in the same class and I figured she'd recognize me. She either didn't, or I wasn't good enough for her to acknowledge me at that point in time. She gave me some excuse later, and I still have no clue whether it was a legitimate oversight on her part, or whether it was a snub. At any rate, she was obviously there with a guy, so I didn't press things; after all, she was way out of my league to begin with.

I was finally introduced to her later on in the term, during the very first public meeting of the Socratics. We hit it off immediately, and I walked her to her car. She told me of her desire as a youngster to be an assassin, and she told me bits and pieces about her and her family. There was a definite chemistry between the two of us.

We kept seeing each other in class, and a week or two later there was a prominent concert to be performed at [Generic University]. Professor Augustus mentioned it in class, and after class Abigail and I were talking. She'd been in the music department before changing her major to history (after taking that course from Professor Augustus a couple of terms before), so she was going, and we decided to sit together. I came directly from work, so I was still wearing my office finery; she was impressed. Once the concert was over, I gave her and her friend a ride back to her friend's dorm. On the way to my car, we got to discussing ancient history, and Gladiator came up. She said that whenever she saw the film, she had to be left alone during the opening fight scene. I was impressed. Let's recap. At this point, Abigail:

Was gorgeous

Dressed to kill

Was a strong student of ancient history

Loved not only the entire Gladiator film, but especially the opening fight scenes

And she was expressing an interest in me strong enough even for thick-skulled Super Fly to detect. This was getting good.

Eventually we reached dead week, not long after the concert. As I'd gotten to know both Eddie and Abigail during the course of the term, the three of us agreed to study together. The area happened to get a little bit of snow that morning, and I drive a Chevy Blazer. We agreed to meet at the library early in the afternoon. I was a few minutes early, and once the other two became a few minutes late I began trolling through the library in search of them. After a comprehensive search of the six story building, I found a pay phone in the Union building and called Abigail. As it turned out, Eddie was running late, having partied a bit too hard the night before (as you can imagine, this was a frequent phenomenon in Eddie's life). Abigail still lived at her parents' home, up on a somewhat steep hill. Apparently it had been arranged without my knowing it that I would be picking Abigail up in my rig.

And the pieces begin falling into place...

I went to pick Abigail up, and met her mother, and I think one of her sisters; she was the second of five daughters, for a total of thirteen X chromosomes and one Y in the immediate family, though her younger sister was living in the dorms and her older sister was married at that point. Once she'd collected her things, we got into my rig and went back to campus. It was chemistry the entire time. She wanted me to take her shooting, and was particularly proud of herself for one episode in which she'd done well when shooting one of her grandfather's guns, or riding a horse, or some other damn thing. I was hanging onto every word.

We got to the library, and Eddie finally showed up wearing a pink shirt that belonged to his girlfriend; apparently they lived together, and she played mother as much as girlfriend to him. We got a group study room and spent a few hours poring over material on the Assyrians, the Hittites, the Phoenicians, and I think there was some more. Eddie kept making up songs and singing as he studied, which thoroughly distracted Abigail and I, and made it rather difficult to stay focused; I found out later that part of Abigail's problem was that being around me had her extremely aroused. Eventually we called it quits for the night, agreed to meet up the next afternoon, and went to the Union for pizza. As this was going on, Abigail and I began to make plans for the evening: she would come to my home and watch Gladiator, then I'd take her home. We got something (non-alcoholic, as we were both underage) at a convenience store and went back to my place.

Remembering our previous conversation, I kept my distance during the opening battle scenes, as much for her benefit as my own. Once the battle scene was over, I went and joined her on the couch. From there, it became one of the best dates I'd ever been on. Once the film was over, we talked for several hours. You wankers don't need to know the details of her life or mine, but we achieved an emotional intimacy that I don't think I'd ever experienced at that point. It was truly outstanding, and we were absolutely into each other.

In the wee hours of the morning, I took her back home. Her entire family was asleep, and we went down to her bedroom. No hanky panky; I was shocked at how clean the place was, compared to my own overloaded flat. She had a vase - a vase - that she'd acquired when working for a furniture store. She had a bookcase, and we looked through her books. Eventually she showed me out, and I became the first guy she'd ever dated to have a big enough pair to kiss her goodnight on her front porch.

A good start, right? Right!?

The next day, all bets were off. We'd arranged for me to come pick her up at a certain time. She tried calling my home, but at that point I'd gone out shooting (probably with my Mauser!), and forgotten my mobile phone, which I scarcely carried in those days of hallowed antiquity. I arrived at her home a while later to find out that plans had changed for some reason, and she was going to meet Eddie and I at the library.

Okay, simple enough.

I went to campus and met Eddie in the library, dressed in my cowboy gear because she'd said she absolutely loved guys who dressed like cowboys. Now, I'm not the closest thing you'd come to a real live mountain man at [Generic University], but I'm probably at least in the ninetieth [Generic University] cowboy percentile. Anyway, she eventually showed up, late, and was an absolute ice queen. She showed no interest whatsoever in me. We'd discussed the night before not letting on to Eddie that anything had happened between us, but this was overkill.

We all agreed to study together again the next day, and once we were done I walked her back to her car. As we walked, I found out that this other guy that she'd been informally seeing had come back into the picture in a big way, and they'd decided to date seriously... Sunday afternoon, while I was out shooting. I was absolutely and unequivocally crushed. I thought I'd found the Penelope to my Ulysses; instead, she was Circe, and she was about to attempt to devour me alive.

The exam was that evening, and we'd arranged before that I would be picking her up for the exam. Things were tense in my rig, as you can well imagine. Certain undisclosed details of the final exam required us to be somewhat friendly with each other, but it was largely an act. Even so, when she was coughing during the exam I offered her water, and at least once she looked back and smiled at me, and rubbed my leg. Crazy? Absolutely.

We left the exam together, and went to the Music building where she had to meet with another friend (the girl from the concert). Though she hadn't intended to, she wound up telling this girl about the new connection with this other guy. I wasn't in on the conversation, as they were upstairs for the duration. Once she came down, and the other girl left, Abigail basically broke down and cried, and I just held her and told her it was going to be okay. And then what did I do? I bought her coffee, and we talked about the situation, and then I forced myself to take her to her destination for the evening: the other guy's flat. The whole time, she made an effort to make sure that she and I would stay friends, and we arranged another opportunity to spend time with one another. As I drove her to the other guy's house, I played this song on my stereo. To this day, I have no regrets about that particular choice.

I believe it was during Spring Break that we had our final "date". We went to the Matriarch's home, which was by then uninhabited, and had sandwiches and drinks. There was a lot of talk, and all of it was sincere on my part. In retrospect, my guess is that at least half of what she said that night was complete and total nonsense, uttered in such a way as to attempt to soften the blow and avoid hurting my feelings. I gave her a mix CD, which she said she loved; I'm under the impression that she never actually listened to it, save for the tracks I played in the car. She asked if we could finish out the evening listening to this song, so that it would all end on a happy note. I finally dropped her off back at home, having said at one point that if things didn't work out with the other guy, that she could come to me.

Bad move, Fly.

Since she'd said she wanted to stay friends, I tried to keep in contact with her, and hang out with her from time to time over the first couple of weeks of school. We saw each other once for lunch, but the King of the Air Force Cock Block horned in on things, claiming that the jacket he was wearing was a bona fide Luftwaffa jacket that his father had gotten for taking a couple of German guys up on a flight or something. Eventually Abigail bailed on the whole thing. I saw her a couple of weeks later, and she just smiled at me in this "forgive me, I was so difficult that day" way. Riiiiight.

I eventually found out that Abigail had told several of our mutual acquaintances that I was "stalking her" on account of my attempts to stay in contact. Luckily the damage was easily contained, as everyone she told was able to see right through her attempts to manipulate the situation. Since I was becoming involved with the Socratics by this time, I'd made a number of friends in the group, and they sided with me. That's one good thing about being dumb as a sack of hammers: if you're not too deep (personality-wise), you wind up being more genuine, and people have a greater tendency to believe you over a scheming manipulator.

That summer Abigail took some classes in Hippy Nexus and met some guy. She fell deeply in love, abandoned pretty much all of her hopes and dreams, and married the guy less than a year later. None of the Socratics, save for Professor Augustus, were invited. They moved down to Hippy Nexus, and almost nobody has heard from her since.

What are your terminal learning objectives from this story, folks?

Ladies, don't play head games with a guy. If you're not interested in a guy, don't pay him compliments, tell him that he's one of the sweetest guys you know, tell him that he'd be a great catch for any woman. If you don't have the intestinal fortitude to tell a guy that you're just not into him, you probably aren't mature enough to be dating in the first place. Abigail was a classic example of this, having been homeschooled and exposed to next to no social interaction with people her own age. She went to college with the body of a woman and the maturity of a seventh grader, and it reflected in her actions and two-faced lifestyle.

Ladies, if you don't have the intestinal fortitude to tell a guy the truth, don't you dare call him a stalker behind his back when he does nothing more than try to stay in contact with you. I know that there are guys who come on too strong; I wasn't one of those guys in this situation, and I thank God Almighty that the people she tried to pull that rubbish with were smart enough to see right through her.

Gentlemen, be patient. I can't stress this enough. Had I been patient, and learned that this girl was a manipulative vixen with the mental reflexes of a cat, the honesty of a Democrat, and the maturity of a seventh grader, I (hopefully!) wouldn't have jumped into things feet first.

And the last little bit?

If a girl is gorgeous, dresses well, and loves Gladiator, she's probably too good to be true.

Thus saith the Fly.