The time I met a crazy guy

Subway by Jeffrey Czum

I was single for 6 years in Paris.

It was both the best and the worst experience, and this story tells one of the worst.

There are some things men don’t do like us just before a date, buy an outfit for the occasion? Maybe, . a waxing session? Probably not. Make-up? Probably not. Send directions to one or more friends about our date and location? Probably not.

If I sometimes skip one of these steps, the last one is the one I don’t forget, it’s become a habit because “you never know”, “it only takes one time”…

I don’t know about you, but I met my exes in a group of friends, at school, at college.
And at 25, I was in Paris and on dating websites.

If at the beginning I made some nice encounters, there are some that remain engraved in my memory and for the wrong reasons.
I didn’t get physically attacked, but I came very close.

His name was Maël, and he was from Brittany, (it’s silly but I tended to trust you more if you came from the same place as me) only he had never set foot there because he was born in Paris.
A first little disillusionment but it’s ok.
All he does is talk about his work, all the trips he’s made, the Porsche he bought himself and his flat in Versailles. I don’t even know what made me agree to this date with him, arrogance is really not what I’m looking for in a man.

I look at the time and tell him I’m not going to be long, as I told him I’m doing the delivery tomorrow morning and wake up at 6. Clearly less glamorous than the story of his Porsche.

I go to the toilet and as I’m going back upstairs I sit down again to make 2 minutes conversation before leaving (I shouldn’t have sat down to signal my departure, I’ve learnt my lesson) he says:

“you’re still going to buy me a drink aren’t you? “

I don’t know what came over me, but I felt obliged, it was his tone, my tiredness, the fact that I told myself I wanted to be nice (“after all he bought me a drink”)…

So be it. If that’s what it takes for me to leave, a half for me and a pint for him.
And then he asks me how we’re getting home. “We? “I had told him by message, and during that evening that I would be home early, that it was just a drink.
That’s when the mask falls off, he raises his voice, yells at me outright because because of me he missed his last train, that he thought I was saying no but that I wasn’t serious, that when I saw him I was going to want to go home with him.

I just don’t know where to put myself, his reaction being unexpected, the couple on the side looking at us, the guy amused, the girl rather worried.
Seeing that we are being watched, he calms down. Apologises, says he has to go to the bathroom and we’ll talk about it when he gets back.

But I don’t want to talk about it. I decide to run away, literally!

I grab my stuff, my jacket and run to the metro.
On the way I text a friend to tell her that I had a terrible date with a madman.
In the corridors of the metro my phone rings, I pick it up without paying attention to the number… it was him.

“Did you leave? Wait for me! … Where did you go? Oh, that way? I can hear the sound of your heels.

At that moment I was scared, for me he was just going to go home empty-handed. At no time did I think he would rush into the metro looking for me, and “track” me as if I had become prey.

I’m used to dating and apps, I even jokingly say that I have a PhD in dating.
But this time, with his behaviour, I was really scared.

I was glad I barely made it into that last underground, although my blood ran cold when I turned around and saw him one last time as the doors closed. I sat down, a little stunned, and wrote everything down to my friends.

When I got home I cried. I was safe, I wasn’t scared anymore, but I cried because I was angry with myself.

Angry that I hadn’t seen through his game from the beginning, angry that I had accepted this date, that I had reacted like that.
I’m usually a strong woman, I can say no, leave when the need or the desire arises, and there I was unable to do so.
I was afraid of his reaction, afraid of a scandal, afraid of the repercussions, I wanted to be as nice as possible, thinking that afterwards I would be at ease. In the end, a lot of dates go like that, there’s no feeling for one, and we leave it at that. But it wasn’t in his plans obviously…

I questioned myself when it wasn’t my place to do so.
There was nothing wrong with my behaviour, but with his.

Today I think many women feel guilty when they are assaulted. Probably in the same conditions, it starts with a date, or we go out with who we think is a friend, or our boyfriend for some time, and that’s when the mask falls off and everything changes.

You think about your outfit, the fact that you were too nice and that you should have said no a fourth time, maybe he would have understood after hearing No three times.

Unlike other women, I was lucky this time, if I wrote this article it is to tell you that it is not your fault if one day it happens to you.

That a handsome young man can only be so in appearance, and that as soon as you feel uncomfortable, it’s the right time to stop this date!
And if you have any doubts, if you don’t have a feeling before the date, find another more appropriate moment, or reserve your evening, after all, if you have to start by loving someone, start with yourself!

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Responsable de Service Support, ancienne photographe de mariage, et barista. J’écris à propos de ce que je connais #café #photographie #customerservice

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Lydie L

Lydie L

Responsable de Service Support, ancienne photographe de mariage, et barista. J’écris à propos de ce que je connais #café #photographie #customerservice

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