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May 24th, 2004: The Worst Date Of All Time, Part 2
Continued from here.
We went out into the night. The two of us standing on a street corner, Jessica sobbing and apologizing. Forms I needed to fill out and bring to my dream job the next day to show how responsible I could be -- vanished. So far, I had blown about $300 I didn't have on a date that wasn't even a date with a girl who had a boyfriend.
And the night was just beginning.
She wouldn't stop crying, so I put my arm around her. I assured her that it wasn't a big deal and that I was OK with it, though it was and I wasn't.
I just wanted to get the night over with. I guided her toward the subway. For you New Yorkers, we were walking from Irving Plaza to the Union Square subway stop, the one in the gazebo. She told me she didn't want to go home, and asked if I would sit in the little park there with her for a bit.
We sat on a bench and struck up some conversation, most of which consisted of her apologizing. On the bench to our left was a teenage couple dry humping. On the bench to our right was a homeless man who smelled like the dumpster at the base of Poo Mountain. Romance was in the air.
We couldn't help but sneak glances at the teenagers, who were rounding second base. Before I had enough time to think better of it, Jessica and I were kissing. It was dark, we were outside...it was nice. Kissing turned to making out. After ten or so minutes, she pulled away.
JESSICA: I'm sorry. We should stop.
ME: Oh. OK, sure.
JESSICA: I really like you.
ME: I like you, too.
JESSICA: No you don't.
ME: Of course I do.
JESSICA: You shouldn't, though.
ME: Why is that?
JESSICA: Never mind.
ME: Because of your boyfriend?
JESSICA: No. I don't care about him.
ME: Why don't you break up with him?
JESSICA: I can't.
ME: Why not?
JESSICA: I love him.
ME: Oh. OK.
JESSICA: I like you too, though.
ME: Look, somehow this is way more serious than I expected, I just wanted to take you to a concert. If you love your boyfriend, stop hanging out with me. It's that simple.
JESSICA: But you like me, right?
ME: Yes?
JESSICA: You shouldn't.
ME: What are you talking about?
JESSICA: If I tell you something, do you promise you won't tell anybody?
ME: Of course.
JESSICA: Promise me. Nobody.
ME: I'll never talk to anyone at Kaplan again, Jessica.
JESSICA: And you promise you won't hate me?
ME: Of course not.
JESSICA: And you won't freak out?
ME: Jessica. What is it?
JESSICA: OK.
ME: Go ahead.
JESSICA: OK. I have hepatitis.
GA-GOO?!?!
I felt an immediate desire to gargle and spit. I knew nothing about hepatitis, but the little I did know involved the words "saliva" and "blood" and "contagious."
JESSICA: I didn't get it from sleeping around or anything. I'm not a slut.
ME: OK.
JESSICA: I used to be a dental assistant, and I didn't use my gloves once and the doctors think that's where I got it.
ME: Uh-huh.
JESSICA: You look freaked out.
Freaked out didn't even begin to describe it. I'd imagine my hair was standing on end at this point. Had I been wearing a bow tie, it would have been spinning out of control.
JESSICA: Are you freaked out?
ME: Well, we just made out, you know?
JESSICA: Yeah.
ME: Isn't hepatitis like highly contagious?
JESSICA: It can be, yeah.
ME: Well, can't you get it from kissing?
JESSICA: Yeah, but that's a different kind, that's not the one I have.
ME: Well, are you sure?
JESSICA: Yes! Jeez. You told me you wouldn't flip out.
ME: Well, if I have hepatitis I am definitely going to flip out. I'm really really going to flip out.
JESSICA: See, this is why I can't leave my boyfriend, no one's ever going to like me with this.
ME: That's not true.
JESSICA: It totally is. You should see your face.
ME: I'm not even worried, I promise.
I have hepatitis I've got to get to a doctor I have hepatitis I've got to get to a doctor I have hepatitis
JESSICA: I should get home.
ME: Good idea.
We went down into the subway station. If you've been to NYC, you know they have standard turnstile entries and they have the giant cage entries that you push through like a revolving door. This was cage-style. I swiped my subway card and yes, more problems arose.
JESSICA: Oh no! I don’t have my Metrocard!
ME: Just buy a $2.00 one!
JESSICA: I don’t have any cash!
ME: I’ll give you two bucks!
JESSICA: No! I can’t take any more money from you! Just go!
I walked through the cage door and at the last second she put her arms around me, piggybacking onto my fare. I suppose this wasn't a huge deal, it was midnight and the subway was deserted. I came out on the other side and looked behind me. Her purse had gotten caught on one of the claws. She kept tugging and pulling at her purse strap. She asked me for help, I walked over to pry it loose.
And two policemen walked around the corner.
COP: You two turnstile jumping?
ME: No. No.
COP: Yeah, we got cameras back there.
ME: Oh.
COP: Get the bag loose and come with us.
ME: There’s no other crime going on in New York City right now?
COP: Get the bag loose and come with us.
There's a little police station inside the subway stop at Union Square. We were escorted there and sat down in a little room. Both cops were really checking out Jessica's body, and I couldn't help but hope that her looks would be of some help here.
COP: Do we need to show you the tape of the incident or do you guys admit to it?
ME: We don't need to see it.
COP: OK, I've got to give you both a ticket.
Jessica stood up, she gave them some cleavage, she was on fire.
JESSICA: No! No, please don't! Please, if you have to give somebody a ticket, give one to me and not him. Please. He didn't tell me it was OK at all, I just snuck through with him. I've caused him enough trouble tonight, I lost all his important papers and his concert tickets and his money and he hates me now! Please just give me the ticket not him! Pretty please, officer!
The cop stared at her for a moment. Gradually, a smile crept across his face. He looked at me.
COP: You two on a date, sir?
ME: Yeah.
COP: You're a lucky man.
ME: Yup.
COP: Beautiful girl who sticks up for you, that’s a wonderful thing.
ME: Definitely.
COP: Look, we're being watched too. If my boss sees me bring you guys in here and not give you a ticket, I'm in the shit. Let me see your licenses, OK?
JESSICA: Look, officer, please --
COP: Cameras are on here. I'm filling these out, but I'm messing up your info on purpose. I'm not checking a fine. You won't have to pay it, OK?
JESSICA: Thank you sooo much, officer.
COP: No problem.
ME: We really appreciate it.
The cop handed the tickets to us, reprimanded us with a smile and a wink, and sent us on our way.
COP: Take care of that girl, buddy!
ME: You know it!
I couldn't believe it. Finally, a bit of luck.
Jessica and I took the subway up to the Port Authority. We were each taking a different bus back to New Jersey. As I walked her to her bus, she opened her ticket. Indeed, the cop had entered all of her information incorrectly, rendering the ticket void. There was no fine checked, and he had even drawn a little smiley face in the corner. Jessica apologized yet again. I told her it was no problem and that I'd get over it, though it was and I wouldn't. She leaned in to kiss me goodnight.
Needless to say, I gave her my cheek. Bitch got hepatitis.
As she boarded her bus, I looked at the clock -- 12:55. If I didn't catch the 1AM bus, I was screwed. The only bus after that was the 2AM, which always came late, and often not at all. I sprinted through the Port Authority, my heart pounding in my ears. I ran downstairs. The clock still read 12:59. I was going to make it!
I pushed the door open and ran outside to see my bus, the 99S, roaring away into the night. For the first time ever, it had been early.
I went back into the Port Authority and slumped to the floor. It's pretty much the filthiest, most miserable building in the world in the daytime, and after dark it's just plain terrifying. And I was stuck there indefinitely. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the ticket the cop had given me.
And every detail, every spelling, every number was totally accurate.
He had given me a $60 fine for "Subway Fare Evasion."
I would later write a letter of appeal to the NYPD. The appeal was denied.
When a hepatitis scare is the most fun part of your date, it's time to be single for a few months.
The 2AM bus arrived at 3:15.
I will never complain again. Wow.
You know, I have been feeling pretty shitty over the course of the last
couple days for various not-worth-disclosing reasons, rendered further
not-worth-disclosing on account, in spite of the fact that they're rooted
in various more-than-four-year-old continuous occurrences, of the
implications of this one single night that you've described. Bravo, my
good man; I don't think there's anything more to say on that.
Bravo Pat. Bravo. Excellent story. Is Jessica still with the boyfriend?
JESUS. H. TAPDANCING. CHRIST.
Pat, I'm so impressed by this story that I'm commenting again even though
you haven't replied yet. This time it's to say that I think this story
should be required reading for anybody, ever. No exceptions.
That is what I call: Classic NYC Walsh. I always tell family and friends -
if you need a laugh - read this blog. Hey, have you had a check-up with a
medical doctor since that night? Dude, get $200 and see a doc – pronto.
People, people. Please. I most certainly do not have hepatitis. I got
tested the following week, and shared a bit of the tale with the doctor,
who had a good laugh. I give blood every six months.
Not sure. Believe it or not, we haven't stayed in touch!
So you're saying she might be available now, right?
Hilarious! Terribly hilarious. I also was once fined for "fare evasion." I
was with a big-breasted friend who cried, so she didn't get ticketed, but
me with my non-crying and average-sized breasts, well, I got fined.
However, my appeal was accepted.
Yesterday I read through all the older "Story of my life" entries and I
almost died laughing. It was seriously hilarious. And OMG the part about
the sales job I can totally relate! I know that it's old and off topic but
I just have to tell you. I went online job searching, filled out the resume
section and got a few emails. One said something like "tired of waiting
tables?" Or some shit and it was near my old house a few miles away so I
figured I'd go there and apply. So I get the interview with like three
other people, there's a few guys and girls all dressed in business like
suits and things, meanwhile I really don't have much of a clue what im
applying for... I get the interview.. still no mention of the job and then
she sends me out with one guy for a training session. Okay So I find out
now that we are basically selling AT&T to businesses DOOR TO FUCKING DOOR.
yeah, heels were OBVIOUSLY a bad idea. So I'm like, oh jesus WTF. The guy I
trained with was really nice though, Unlike Mark(?) the douche bag. I swear
they did the same thing with the music and sales pitches too! I remember
going into an EMPTY "conference room" with no tables.. and going back and
forth with a each person to work on the sales pitch. Any way, so about
three days in I said fuck it. We worked only on commission and were not
getting paid for the training (which in this place could take up to 2
weeks, then you had to take a test before you could start selling on your
own and making money). So I just didn't show up the next day and that was
that. I just had to share, sorry it took up so much room!
That was more entertaining that ANYTHING I've watched in primetime lately.
Pat, not to sound like your mother, but these experiences have definitely
made you more... well, entertaining.
What about the Femmes, did you end up seeing them after all somehow?
Danny --
Pat! You. Are. A. Genius. And Hep free... when are we hanging out?
Pat,
You are quite the storyteller-and an entertaining one at that! I just
happened to stumble upon your blog during some miscellaneous Google-ing.
Thank you so much for creating a highly addictive distraction to my busy
work day. No really...thanks!
I had to comment yet again, just to say: I got pulled over this morning,
and as the good officer of the Illinois State Police was in his car
checking my license, I thought of your worst date ever, and said to myself,
"this isn't so bad." I have to wonder what people thought if/as they drove
by and saw I was smiling with a state trooper's car, lights ablaze, behind
mine.
May is Hepatitis Awareness Month.