This past April, I headed to the park by my apartment to go for a run. It was the first real day of Spring, so it was teeming with joggers, sun worshippers, dog walkers and the like. I was walking to the starting point of my run when I noticed a tall, skinny girl walking towards me with a Jack Russell Terrier. She looked pretty cute, but she was wearing a t-shirt that said "G_ F_CK Y_ _RS_LF. Would you like to buy a vowel?". This struck me as a little out of place for the Upper East Side and for lack of a better term, a little white trash. I was fixated on the t-shirt, so was a bit startled when the girl tapped me on the shoulder and started talking. I pulled my earphones out to hear her and caught "Hey! I know you. We went out on a date once and hooked up." I took a longer look at her and then realized that she did indeed look familiar and that I had gone out on one date with her three years ago. After an awkward re-introduction where we had to remind one another of our names, it took me about 30 more seconds to realize why I never went on a second date with her.
What followed was 15 to 20 minutes of her throwing questions (which I had 5 seconds to answer) and thoughts at me that followed no logical sequence. She asked if I was married or had a girlfriend. I said yes, I have a girlfriend. She asked how long we'd been dating. I said, for two months. She said that was nothing and basically dismissed my relationship as non-existent. She then called her dog "Stanley" away from the butt sniffing of another dog. Later, I would come to find out that "Stanley" was a girl dog and she named her that because when she was a little girl her father called her Stanley. Ok. She then informed me that she was going to Pennsylvania that weekend to visit her grandparents who were "both dying." She then explained to me that she was seeing a bunch of guys, but "not doing it with them or anything, unless I want to". She then explained that one guy, whom she happened to have a date with that night, was a married French guy who she flashed her nipple when she was sitting next to him on an airplane because he was "checking [her] out". I asked how she felt about messing around with a married guy and she said "I don't care, I'm single". I once again pointed out that HE WAS MARRIED and she still didn't understand how that was a problem. She then said "So yeah, I was all depressed and shit when we knew each other wasn't I?" which was followed one second later by "Oh, hey check out that garbage boat" which was then followed by her picking up her dog and pretending like she was going to throw her in the river and saying "Oh no, I'm going to throw you in!". Poor Stanley. I was so perplexed, confused and scared that I couldn't even come up with a good excuse to leave even though I wanted to do nothing more than that. She had asked me how old I was three different times and when she asked my name for the third time (why I didn't give a fake name is beyond me), my desire to flee became overwhelming. I said that I really needed to continue my run and she said "But you haven't even started running yet!", which was impressively observant of her. As I was taking my steps backwards to get away from her, she asked if I was Catholic. I said yes, but that I wasn't practicing. She then asked if I ever went to mass and I said no. She then explained that if I ever felt like going to mass, then I could go to her church where she gives mass because she is an ordained minister. Yes, she is an ordained minister and gives a mass every Sunday afternoon. Let that sink in for a moment....
I then wished her luck on her date with the French guy that evening and turned and began my run. I ran for five miles and pretended that she was chasing me the whole time as motivation to keep up a fast pace.
For the record, Stanley was a very nice dog.