Boredom Breeds Mischief and...The Experiment - Part V - End Game

In a bit of a jam and the jaw-dropping experience as "The Experiment" draws to a close.

We are coming to the last installment of my encounters and interactions with the eight guys that I swiped on from my Bumble Beeline. They ended up being participants in Boredom Breeds Mischief and…The Experiment (Part II, III, IV), which was born out me feeling restless one night and followed by carefree swiping.

Now, I had met up with Will, the last man standing, and it was nope at first sight. I already knew that he was not it. 

I was in his house and being released from an introductory embrace. I surveyed his home, observed the layout, and identified exit points. As he turned and walked into his living room, I was able to watch him and how he moved.

I think I had five exit plans in my mind, which I kept cycling through while maintaining conversation with him. He sat down on the couch and patted the cushion next to him.

I was about to sit down but remembered that I had two treats for his birthday, which had just passed. I moved over to the couch, handed him the bag with the dessert, and attempted to keep some space between us.

As I got a longer and better look at him, I observed that his profile photos might have been from 5+ years ago. Will’s face was broader, and he was stocky overall. He was a fairly fit and strong guy, but larger than presented through photos.

He had brown hair, blue eyes, and seemed to be about 5’10.” He was wearing a hooded sweatshirt and basketball shorts. For some reason, his outline reminded me of a pit bull.

Will sat close to me, almost hip to hip, and turned toward me. I told him that I had brought him two cheesecake slices: one strawberry and one Oreo. He looked in the brown bag, and he said, “Aren’t you the sweetest?! Thank you. People don’t do things for me.”

Aww. I mean, come on - that pulls at the heartstrings. I told him that birthdays are special; everyone should be celebrated and deserves a little something. Will looked at me in an ethereal way and told me he was happy we got together. I uttered a “positive” sound and kind of said, “Yeah…” 

He said, “You’re so beautiful.” I replied, “Thank you.”

Will said, “You look like your pictures. That’s awesome. It’s great when we do that.”

Ohh, Will. I said, “Thank you” and he followed with, “Do I look like mine?” 

Crap on a cracker Will. Why? As the inner me said, “Doh.” 

“Mmmmm,” is what came out of my mouth. I took a breath and said, “You just got a haircut? It looks really nice.” 

He was scooching over, and his arm was on the couch above and behind my shoulders. Will quickly turned his head and asked, “Can you see my scar?” I told him I could not as I looked at the side of his head. Eventually, I saw a faint line. 

He told me he had had an accident on a motorcycle and had surgery there. I should have locked onto that detail, but then, both his hands were air-caressing and framing my face.

It felt like he was going to give me a “nose kiss” where he touched his nose to mine, but in the last second it was “spmwah, spmwah, spmwah, spmwah.”

He gave me four swift pecks on my lips. They were so light and quick. We will call them little kissy kisses because I think that gives you an idea of how…they were seemingly harmless but also carried a tinge of creepiness.

I was startled and leaned back. I needed to process everything faster and gather myself. Before I could exhale and verbalize my reaction or make any exclamations, he asked me if I wanted something to drink. I didn't really want anything.

However, I replied, “What do you have?” He was not paying attention to my body being a little more rigid and tense. He seemed to be caught up in his own thoughts. I kept my voice steady and listened as he told me that he had water, soda, beer, and other spirits.

Ding! Liquor, let’s go! I inquired, “What spirits do you have?” 

He told me he had Jack Fire. I let him know him, “That’s not for me, but thanks.” 

Yuck, that is not lifting my spirits and would not be enjoyable for me, which was similar to this moment. I opted for water, and he said, “Oh no, let’s get you something. Something good.” 

He said that he could order something from a nearby store and have it delivered. I thought, “No way.” 

“How long could that take?” I asked him and he said, “About 20 minutes.”

Absolutely, not. That was way too long. I would need to be closer to my escape in 20 minutes.

Will said, “We could drive and get you something. It’s less than five minutes away.” 

Bet. There’s time that we can waste, and we can get closer to the end of our time together. As we got up to get ourselves set to go, he kept putting his hands on either side of my face, like he was going to cup it, but wouldn’t make contact. 

I almost felt like a doll. We weren’t at “it places the lotion in the basket” level but…I was alert, and my eyes kept roaming over to my exit options. I just wanted to make it to the liquor store, back, and give enough time to be respectful before I left.

As we were walking out of Will's home, he pointed out his big ole truck, which was very nice. It was black and it might have been a Toyota Tundra, GMC, or something. Will asked if I wanted to drive his truck to the liquor store.

I declined. He reiterated that I could drive it. I said, “No, thank you.”

He asked me if I was scared to drive it. Scared of the truck, no, of you? Ehh, not yet, but getting closer though. He finally let go of the idea and I hopped into his truck - literally. It was a behemoth.

Once we got to the main road, we took a quick left and headed towards a light. A couple blocks later, we took another left, and he said we were very close. At a stop sign he looked at me and whispered, I couldn’t hear him, and I leaned over to hear him.

Kissy kisses! Dammit, he snuck a couple in, and he got me. He was the hamburglar of stolen kissy kisses. I think my expression was blank. I might have smiled subtly for my safety?

The ride really did not take long but it was also telling. While he was driving, he talked about how we had good jobs, and he thought that was cool. He said that it was nice to meet great people

Aww? Then, he told me he reached a milestone at work, was being promoted again, and was receiving an award. Bravo, Will.

It was a nice and positive moment that had the semblance of normalcy. Will explained a few things about the situation and detailed a ceremony that would be taking place.

He would receive a plaque, with a photo, which was going on a special wall. He was also moving up to be one of the top leaders of the board at the business. Amazing!

Then, he said, “Wouldn’t it be cool for you to be there and hand me the plaque at the ceremony?” 

Wait, what?? Umm, no. Not amazing.

I said, “Wouldn’t it be better for your family to do it?” He just blinked and looked at me. I said, “Wouldn’t it be better if your kids did it?” 

His face was kind of crestfallen and it dimmed. He said, “I guess so. I’m just saying it would be pretty dope if you did it.” Uhhh. Yikes. 

Finally, we made it to the liquor store. When we entered, the man behind the counter waved to Will and I gave the man a passing smile. I headed straight for the cold drinks and wall of refrigerators. I wanted something quick and easy. This was not the time for deliberating or even getting something strong. 

Will came up on my shoulder and told me to get anything I like. I quickly scanned the shelves for a single item that was not expensive, was for one sitting (if that), and would be pleasant enough to consume. I grabbed some sparkling wine something, Will picked up a six-pack of beer, and we headed to the counter.

Will tried to introduce me to the cashier and said, “This is-” 

“Hi,” I said. It was a perfunctory “Hi” at that. It said - you don’t need to know me. You don’t. You will not see me again. Everyone behind the counter smiled at him and me. 

One man was off to the side, in front of me, and his eyes moved to Will, over him, and then shifted to me. He looked like he was in charge or a manager. We made eye contact. Will had paid, picked up the bagged items, and was about to put his arm around me. 

The manager man had a smile plastered on his face. Our gaze held for a moment. Mine was saying “Dude, don’t worry - I’m going home safe. I got this.”

His said, “Good luck Miss” as his head dropped into a slight bow, and we disengaged our eye communication. I turned on my heel, “Thanks. Byeee!” 

I was at the door before Will’s arm could rest on my shoulders and I was holding the door for him. We walked to the truck, and he opened the door for me. I quickly hopped in, took the bag out of his hand, and thanked him for getting the door. 

He got into the driver’s seat and smiled at me, “You’re so pretty.” I mumbled something again and as he leaned toward me. I said, “We better get baaacck.” 

I quickly and discreetly looked down at my phone in my lap. It was 6:28pm. I was momentarily comforted by the fact that I only had a certain amount of time left to be out and he knew I had scheduling restrictions. We would get back, have a drinky poo, and I’m out.

We were stopped at a light and Will was catlike and lightning fast. There were more kissy kisses. They were so unnecessary, out of nowhere, and excessive. I felt like a kid that gets little baby kisses from an unwanted family member, who has not visited in a long time, and they just keep doing it. Argh.

He air-caressed my face and said, “You’re so pretty.” I turned my head and pointed at the light; “Green” is all I said.

I looked down and into the bag on my lap. I saw that I selected a sparkling rosé called Whispering Angel. I had not even payed attention to the name, but maybe that’s what I needed at that moment - a whispering angel. Maybe?

It was SOS time. I slid my phone out of my pocket, to the right side of the bag, and to the side of my right leg. Bridget’s number was right on top, and I hit the text icon. My girl knew where I was, that I might drop her a line, and a 20-minute timer would be set.

I used my right hand and the swipe method to text her. As my thumb glided over the keyboard and over the characters, I texted, “Call me at 6:50. I have to leave…”

Two minutes later, we pulled into Will’s driveway, and I had a message from Bridget. She knew and understood the assignment. I opened the passenger door and hopped out. 

This was it. Tick-tock.

Will and I entered his home, I handed him our drinks and put my handbag and jacket on the sofa chair (near the front door). He was grabbing glasses from his cabinets when I walked into the kitchen.

I put one beer aside and asked if I could put the rest in the fridge. He nodded and when I opened it, I saw five beers on the bottom shelf from a six-pack. I slid them over and placed these new five beers next to them. Huh…

He picked up the Whispering Angel bottle, opened it, and poured it into a glass. I opened his beer and picked up his glass and poured it for him. He said, “Aww, that’s so sweet. You’re so sweet.”

That was not a big deal to me. I mean, I have manners. As I turned to hand him his glass, he was catlike again, and right in front of me - spmwah, spmwah, spmwah, spmwah. 

Dang it. He got me again. He leaned back against a counter and smiled. He raised his glass, and I clinked mine with his. “Cheers” we said in unison. The sparkling rosé tasted good, and I decided that the glass would aid in my defense of more kissy kisses. 

Will started telling me about his house, the history of it, and the neighborhood. He pointed out some updates he made to the dining room, which was in a room connected to the left of the kitchen. He detailed a few other renovations he wanted to have done and a few he planned to complete himself. 

Will was very proud of his home, and he asked me if I liked it. I told him it was very nice, and that I did like it. I said you can tell he's put a lot of work into it. He said, “Thank you!”

Then, a huge smile broke out on his face and his arm swept around the room in a wide motion. He said, “All of this could be yours!” He then gestured to the entire house and said, “It could all be ours!”

Uhhh, What the Mickey Frickey?? Sheeeeiiiiittt. Maybe, it does place the lotion in the basket.

He kind of breezed onto the next topic all on his own before I gave a response to his house becoming my home. Thanks, Will.

We had a conversation about our careers and how long we wanted or needed to work before retirement. He asked me if I had thought about where I wanted to retire to and live. I have pondered that but have not settled on a place.

Before I could answer, he exclaimed, “Puerto Rico!”

I said, “No, I'm not retiring to Puerto Rico. I am not sure if I need to move far away from here.”

He had a quizzical look on his face. He said, “Where should we retire? Georgia? Or we could go to Florida?”

Thank goodness, I had just finished a sip of my rosé because I certainly would have spit it out when that we came out of his mouth.

I shook my head and said, “I don't know where I will end up, but I am not moving there either.” He nodded like he was processing what I said, but I don't think he was receiving anything I was saying. 

I was squared up across from him and he started to move away from the kitchen counter. He was slowly closing the distance between us, his hands were moving to air-caress my face, and I took a sip of rosé. Defense. 

He looked at me with a twinkle in his eye and picked up his beer, took a sip, and moved back to leaning against the counter. Foiled. That's right, Will. De-nied.

He started to talk about travel and places he wanted to go. It was interesting but I wasn't sure if he was going to veer into some direction about us and vacations. Fortunately, that topic closed without incident or kissy kisses. 

Will set down his glass. He had finished his beer. Here we go. What was coming next from Felix the Cat or Mr. Cat in the Hat, or whatever you could call this man. I could see the clock from the microwave display - seven minutes.

I had seven minutes until I could make my great escape.

Feline Felix over here was coming in closer and I almost flinched. Will extended his arms and he did not air-caress my face. He was going for a hug.

No sweat, I can do that. We hugged briefly. He pulled back and said, “You’re so pretty.” I smiled and sipped my wine. More defense.He moved back slightly, and I took that opportunity to refill my glass.

He came over and gave me a side hug as I poured the rosé. I probably filled it a little higher at that moment due to his proximity. I picked up the glass, took a sip, and moved away from him back to where I had been standing.

Will turned to me and said, “Can’t I just love you?” Huh??  He followed with, “Ange. Can’t I just love up on you??” Nooooo. 

I said, “Oh, umm. You’re sweet” and eeeeeeek. Tick-tock.

I just started bringing up topics and asking him questions. He seemed to get distracted. We ended up discussing some local news and recent crime alerts in the area. That led to us talking about personal safety. 

We were actually having a good conversation about that. I was hoping we could stay in that pocket. I was surely going to try. Yet, it was still the longest seven minutes ever! I was waiting, wishing, and wanting my phone to ring.

We stayed on topic and discussed self-defense. We exchanged different tips and techniques about encountering someone threatening. It was pretty cool. He showed me a couple moves and then - nirvana! My phone rang.

“Ohhh, it’s the Mom from the party. I gotta take this.” I said. I tried to keep the elation out of my voice and have it heavily coated with “surprise.” 

“Ohhh, are they okay?” and then I paused. “Oh, no,” Blank blank “isn’t feeling well?” Pause, pause.

“No, of course, I understand.” Serious face. “That’s too bad.” Big sigh.

“Oh, yes. I can get there quickly. Thank you and let me know if there’s anything else…” and the call was complete.

I looked at Will. He was looking at me while I was on the call and his face was kind of blank. I blinked a few times. I put my phone in my pocket, and I said, “I have to get the kids early from the party.”  

He snapped out of it and said. “Oh, of course.” He walked very slowly towards me. I stood near the chair with my bag and started to lift my jacket. He was suddenly really close to me.

I took a half-step back and he stepped forward a little more. I felt like he was going to stroke my face again. He raised his hands, and I thanked him for having me over and dealing with the shorter period of time.

He said, “No problem baby” Yikes. “We will take care of each other.” WTF??

“Hee hee, err, uhh” kind of escaped my lips. I glanced at the front door and over his shoulder - it was six feet away.

Will looked directly into my eyes, “You really got me going,” he said. Huh whuuut?? 

“You’re so pretty” and he looked down. So, I looked down. He had quickly flipped the top of those basketball shorts, in the swiftest motion, that his twig and berries were showing.

I froze. His voice got huskier, and he said, “You like that??” 

“I…” was all that escaped my lips. I was looking down and then, out of nowhere ba da da doop.

I was cupping his berries. I just don’t know how, but his twig had grown some and his hands (one hand or a magical third one) had me cup-ping his balls. 

Stunned might capture a portion of what was going on for me. I glanced at the door. It was so close but not close enough. My left hand was supporting his balls, and I think I was glued to the floor. My feet seemed rooted to that spot.

In a corner of my mind, that mini me, sitting in a chair, was like, “Girl, WTH happened? I’d say you are in a pickle, but I guess you’re in a jam because you are up here holding some damn berries!!”

Eff this. Eff mini me. Although, she’s not wrong. I just have to get up out of here.

My eyes caught the corner of something, and they got stuck in a spot above his waistline. I saw the corner of something, and curiosity got me. Self-preservation was put on pause because I knew I would exit shortly.

Come hell or high water, I was getting out of this place, but…what was I seeing before me??

Here goes curiosity again. I did not need an answer in this bizarro moment, but what did I see peeking past his raised sweatshirt? Also, it was not going to get much worse, right? It just wasn’t. Could it?

I saw something clear and then also some dark pea green something. He saw me see it and he apologized. He stepped back and then my left hand was sans berries and yet, my hand was still in that same cupped position - paralyzed.

As he seemed to be blushing, I asked, “What is that?” 

“Oh, sorry baby, that’s my colostomy bag.” Zoinks. It was about the size of almost three soy sauce packets placed next to one another. 

I assured him that there was nothing to be embarrassed about, which there was not. I thought to myself, “I mean your balls were just in my hand, Sir. We have crossed some boundaries.”  

Maybe, the embarrassment should be attached elsewhere, not to this medical situation, but to how we got to the colostomy bag reveal in the first place. He told me that he was having surgery to have his intestines reattached. He planned on telling me, for scheduling purposes, about it for next week.

I sighed on the inside and gave an empathetic smile on the outside. Buddy boy, I am not going to be your Florence Nightingale nor was I going to be around next week. The instant and warp speed attachment Will had placed on “us” in under an hour and a week of texting was a lot.

Welp, my bag was now on my shoulder, my jacket was over my arm, and I was steadily murmuring well wishes and making a beeline towards the door. His hands were moving towards me, and I pushed myself into his arms.

I gave him a hug and my cheek for the last kissy kiss of all those baby smoochies to land. I thanked him for inviting me to his home. 

As I exited stage right, I wished him well on the surgery, and Asta la Pasta’d outta there. I checked my watch, and I had been back at his place for about 25 mins. It had been a very long 25 minutes. 

I got in the car and wanted to barrel away; however, I drove safely down the street, but I made haste. 

I called Bridget and she said, “Glad you made it and…”

I cut her off and relayed all the things to her: kissy kisses, face caresses, drive my truck, present my special award, the house could be all ours, can’t I just love you, and berries. Oh, the berries. And…pea soup in plastic. 

She was astonished. I could not stop the rolling river of words, reactions, details, and aftershock of what happened in such a quick span of time from coming out. You want to talk about things not being on my bingo card.

This was definitely a doozy. A very particular dating doozy of a time and story. I could have abruptly exited a few times, but there was a mild build to each moment that made you screw your face up and think, “Yeesh” but once I was in it, I was in it. 

The universe was really trying to look out for me the first time we texted, months before, and we fell off. I should have learned from Dora and Swiper. This was a “Swiper no swiping” instance.

Will and I had matched and messaged before, and it faded. It could have been left at that. Dora, I got you. No re-swiping!

Bridget and I got off the phone and I was left with my thoughts. I could not have imagined anything like this. Of course not. 

A Friday night, which was a little too quiet, led to me swiping with abandon, wanting some “action,” and needing “more.” Well, I did get more.

Engaging with guys one through eight, each brought a small, big, or lasting takeaway. I had some encounters, sauce, oddity, cringe, and lessons.

As I was getting closer to my destination, I gathered myself. This whole last hour happened, and it was certainly an experience. This marked the conclusion of my little experiment, which was born out of boredom and being restless one Friday night.

I had entered and exited the World Wild Web of Will. 

Phew. 

Ange was marked…safe.