Elyse tells the fairytale story of a magical princess date: Part I

According to Google: “a happy princess”

This happened over a year ago, but it’s a nightmarish story of online dating disasters – so, enjoy!:

We bounded over a mutual love of turkey sandwiches, the great outdoors, and Bea Arthur. Of course, this all started online. Then it turned into texting and two nights of long phone conversations. I actually liked him, I felt like we had a genuine connection, despite the fact that he had stretched lobes, which grosses me out because I’ve heard plugs make your ears smell like cheese.

We wanted our first date to be at a park, maybe the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens, but our schedules were always off. Then we thought it would be nice to meet up at Brooklyn Bridge Park. But, things never panned out. So, one night he ended up riding his bike to my apartment and we went to a bar called Camp. He was pretty high-energy. Sometimes when my roommate’s tiny Italian greyhound, Twiggy

Yo!

acts up, I say “tranquilo” to her (because she speaks Spanish) and she automatically calms the fuck down. I felt like saying “tranquilo” to this dude numerous times. But he was really good looking despite the plugs and having his entire right forearm tattooed black, no actual tattoos, just black, so I rode the wave.

Things were going okay until karaoke started. Cheesy 90s (think: lots of Soul Train) karaoke. So, because we have ears – stretched and un-stretched – we had to leave. We decided, utilizing our whiskey-infused logic that since I lived near a park and we originally wanted our first date to be at a park, it would be nice to go to a park and make-out in private.

He was a weird kisser. He liked to do a lot of tongue-twirling stuff. I took a break from all the tongue rolling and flashed him my panties playfully, because, well, I was drunk. Then two cops showed up.

Why were we in the park at night? Did we not see a very tiny sign on the wide-open gate that says you can’t be in this park past nightfall? Why was I wearing boy shorts when the dress I was wearing clearly called for a thong? We stood next to their patrol car for about 20 minutes getting super un-makeoutty as they checked to make sure I wasn’t a hooker doing a John in a park.

I spent my time standing there wishing I was at home watching an episode of “Firefly” on Netflix. He spent his time yelling at the cops about how his sister-in-law was a cop. We ended up getting citations complete with a court date. Here’s proof!:

Yay!

We walked back to my place, he got his bike, said he’d call, and left.

I ended up watching something on Netflix but it wasn’t “Firefly.” It didn’t seem right to get something I actually wanted that night. So I watched “The Secret Life of the American Teenager” instead and it was awful, which was perfect.