Rory: say something to make me hate you Lorelai: uh, go hitler

So I was reading Lady Miss Marquise's blog when I came across a post of her's about Darren Sherman and the J-Date Ordeal. Which in turn, made me want to post about my worst date, or should I say, the worst guy I've dated.

The worst guy I've dated: The Nazi

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I met this man while taking a physics class. I did well in this class, but at first glance I was nervous about taking it. He was easy going and willing to help out when I had questions. He asked me out on a date. I said yes.

It was a very expensive first date. Sitting across from him I could read in his manners and actions that he was not use to dating and he (even though he wouldn't admit it) probably thought I was out of his league (I know that sounds egotistical, wait for it).

So I agreed to a second date. I had dated some assholes in the past, and he seemed like nothing near it. He was polite, nicely mannered, asked me questions, etc. The second date went well also. Since we were in class together, I started seeing him in hallways and whatnot, and familiarity came quickly.

Around the 5th date, he decided it was time I should meet his friends. So he proposed that we stop by their house first and then head to dinner. I agreed, and I thought to myself, "Wow, this guy is just not afraid of commitment."

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I arrived at his friends house and the three of them were somewhat eagerly waiting. After shaking each of their hands, it was obvious that the men had talked amongst themselves and apparently I was talked up quite a bit. I said a few sarcastic comments, and tried to be natural. They instantly came relaxed around me, and then one of them said, "Wow, Ron, this one is a lot smarter than the last one."
That comment spawned an uproar of laughter resulting in "Tales of Molly."
Molly was Ron's ex-girlfriend, she was so smitten with him that she use to do things for everyone (all friends included) like take out their trash, clean their rooms...
I was appauled, they thought everything was hilarious.
Being that girl before, and then rising above it later, I had some sort of protective mothering rage that came from somewhere deep inside me. They laughed, I smiled, I plotted revenge for Molly. Why?... I don't know, I couldn't explain it.

---

I dated The Nazi for two months. He was not that great of a companion. After that night, not only was I completely turned off by him, but I also started noticing a lot of things I hated about him. For instance, he said the word "scar" more than any other human I've met.

Everything "Scarred" him. Homeless "scarred" him, wasted college students "scarred" him, even my brother "scarred" him (he said that we looked so similar it was "scarring" for him). Also, he walked around all day telling everyone that he was "An Elitest." What this meant, I have no idea, because every time I asked, he didn't have an answer.

I didn't care about those things and I didn't care about him. What I did care about was yanking his puppet strings every chance I got. I was "THEE" girlfriend that no guy ever wants.
"Honey, I know you wanted to go out tonight with your guy friends, but my stomach hurts, will you stay home with me?" and so on and so on. I didn't like being that girl, but I hated him. It was a weird 7 weeks for me. In the end, he got me back.

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At the beginning of the 8th week I decided enough was enough. I had manipulated him enough, and he was getting boring. I wanted to move on. So Monday night, I decided to go over to his apartment and tell him as nicely as possible that it was time to move on.
I knocked.
He opened the door.
I did come unannounced, but nothing could have prepared me for what I was staring at.
He was dressed in a full Nazi uniform, complete with arm bands and hat.
He even had shoes that were shiny black and had little 3rd Reich eagles on them.

Mouth open, I stammered, "What on earth?!"
Looking slightly embarrassed, he looked down at himself and said, "Oh, this? I really like the way it makes me feel."

Now, I had noticed he had a facination with with World War II airplanes. There were two or three of them in little glass boxes around his apartment (another thing I hated about him), but Nazism was far from my mind.

"Feel?" was all I could muster. He explained it to me, (almost as if he were talking to a small child) that Nazi ideals weren't something to hate. The Nazi party wasn't the bad thing about World War II, Hitler was the bad thing. That I shouldn't blame those poor Germans, only Hitler.

By this point, I was so seriously-creeped-the-fuck-out, that I just nodded, and said I had to get home.

The next day he showed up at my apartment, unannounced.

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As he walked into my apartment, I decided right then and there, that he had to go.
So I told him that he had to get out of my life before he said, "How was your day?"
He looked absolutely shocked.
Then, he broke down into big sobbing tears and screamed, "NO! YOU CAN'T BREAK UP WITH ME, I LOVE YOU!"
While normally my heart would have broke at these words, this time around, I was more or less completely terrified. I thought the man didn't have a soul, let alone, one that could love another. He use to introduce me as his "trophy girlfriend."
My neighbors started knocking about 3 minutes after the sobbing started.

---

To appease my neighbors and to make him stop, I told him that we wouldn't break up that day. That seemed to calm him enough that he felt like going home.
Probably to play with toy airplanes in his Nazi uniform.

The next day, I walked home from class, by way of his apartment, and broke it off with him. As the tears welled again, I left.
It may have been heartless, but I was too "scarred" to do otherwise.

It took him another 2 months before he was over me... but that, is a story for tomorrow.