This Ain't My Scene

Most of you have already heard this story from me, so I apologize for the repeat. If you haven't heard, please enjoy the next bit of nonfiction:

Recently (ok like a few weeks ago), I attended a New Year's party with a few friends of mine. I just barely made the age cut off of the 23 to 45 year olds that were invited to attend. A friend had asked me to accompany her, and since I had dragged her to an 80's YSA dance the night before, I thought it was the least I could do to get dressed up a little and go with her to this party.

When we arrived, there were probably 20 people there, including the live band of 5. Luckily, we found some other people we knew and talked with them. As the night progressed, I continually felt like the youngest person there (and in all reality, I probably was). I was enjoying talking with my friends, but it wasn't the best atmosphere for talking because the band's volume was really loud in such an enclosed space. There was some food, a few board games, a pool table, a couch, and a big screen TV tuned to some football game. Ok, now that the scene has been set, here's what happened:

My friends and I were sitting on the couch, a sectional to be exact. So, at the end was my friend Jane* (*Names have been changed for their protection), then Erin*, then me, then the corner of the sectional was empty, then Emily* (who I came with) and Reese*, and then some random dude we didn't know who was messing with his iPhone. We were chatting about random things when this man, who looked to be about 35, comes and stands in front of us (Jane, Erin, and I) and proclaims,

"There are too many girls sitting in a row, so I'll have to sit right there," as he points between Erin and myself.

"Umm ok," I say. "Do you want me to scoot over?"

"No, no. I have to earn my spot," he says as he proceeds to sit right next to me, at the corner of the sectional. He introduces himself, let's call him Bob, and we do the same, each of us shaking hands as we do so. After intros were made, he then turns to me and asks Jane's name again.

Then he says, "Excuse me, sorry," and gets up to stand in front of Jane. "Sometimes I have these urges. Will you indulge me for a moment, and let me snap your nylons?" He then tries to grab Jane's tights on her leg to appease his "urge." He of course can't grab it, so Jane helps him out (which i have no idea why) by lifting it up a little for him to get a hold of. He thanks her and comes and sits back down next to me.

Now at this point, I'm really dumbfounded and a little creeped out by this man who obviously has no self-restraint with complete strangers. But, then, I'm even more shocked as he continues,

"Sorry, sometimes I have these inclinations. Like for example, when women wear low cut blouses and their cleavage is showing and they're really pushed together, you know? I just want to come by and shove something in between there, like a credit card or something. Or if they are kind of far apart, maybe like a pen or something," he says, while illustrating what he's talking about with his hands the whole time.

Now, I'm really creeped out by this perv because he's talking about shoving things in women's cleavage to 3 women he has never met. I think all three of us were a little shocked and didn't know what to say. So, to ease the awkward silence a bit, Erin starts talking about how she has some friends that like to throw things at people in restaurants or something.

"Oh, okay. I'm glad I'm not the only one," he remarks, to which I'm thinking in my head, Well you're the only one stupid enough to say it out loud to three females. And to save himself, "But, you guys are okay cause you're not wearing anything low cut, so you're not tempting me." (Oh, what a relief.)

He then asks if we're of the "Mormon persuasion" (we all say yes), and he says, "Oh, good, then we can talk about "insider stuff." Now throughout this whole time, I was convinced he wasn't a member because he reeked of smoke (not just his clothes, his breath, too). So I was thinking, maybe he's drunk (or high) and stumbled in here from the apartment complex. But, he is now trying to convince us he, too, is Mormon.

So as to explain his smoke smell, he tells me, "Oh,do I smell like smoke? We went to this restaurant. Well, I guess it was a kind of a bar restaurant, and they let people smoke in there." I can smell it on your breath. You're not fooling anybody, pal.

More awkward silence.

Now, I really want this guy to leave, and I'm tired of smelling cigarette smoke, so my arms are crossed, and I'm staring at the TV in front of me with my lips pursed together. He then turns and looks at me and tells me,

"You look like the cure for boredom. But, you're holding back and keeping you're cool."

"Yup. That's exactly it," I say in my most sarcastic, dripping-with-malice type voice.

"Well, here's what we're going to do," he tells me as he jumps/squats in front of me. He has his arm out in front of me (about a foot away from my chest, actually; although, my arms are crossed, so there was a barrier) and starts to reveal his plan. "We're going to pretend like it's the horse races and you're in the pen, and we're going to let you out. Then, you're going to go crazy and bust out and get the party going!" Ummmm....

"No, that's ok," I say, curtly.

"No, come on. You can do it, but you got to get real close to the gate you know like the horses do, so we can let you out," he says while he pats his arm, clearly telling me he wants me to press myself to his arm. Excuse me? Are you serious? do you really think that I am stupid enough to not see what you are really getting at and follow your idiotic, perverted "plan"?

"No, that's ok," I say again. "I don't want to scare anybody."

"Oh. Okay," he replies, looking a bit disappointed and sits back down on the couch. Now, I've had it, but I really am quite comfortable on the couch, so I look for a way to get him to move on, as opposed to me having to leave. So, I point over to where people are starting to dance,

"People are dancing over there, you should go and check it out."

"Well, I don't want to leave you guys."

"No really, that's ok," we all say, with all of us saying something about how we're tired and will stay on the couch.

"Oh, okay. Well, I will go, but I will have a sad face on because you guys won't be over there." Then, finally, he walks away.

At first the whole thing is almost surreal; did that guy really say and do those things? Then came the realization--it was all real, and that now I feel icky, and I need to avoid this person the rest of my life. The whole time Emily and Reese casually looked on, but apparently Reese was dealing with her own weirdo (the guy on the phone, who asked about her bra). But, she didn't hit the jackpot like I did.

So, after that interesting occurrence, we stayed for a little while longer. When Emily was ready to go, I was more than happy to oblige her. It was fun to talk with my friends, but I'll be honest, I felt a little out of place. As we were leaving, Bob decided to sit next to Reese this time. But, unlike me (who tried to save her), Reese told him off gently instead of letting him keep going. I obviously could learn a thing or two from her.

The party wasn't my scene, but I came back with a hilarious and extremely awkward story, so it was totally worth it, right?