So in keeping with my theme of relationships are strange places....
I went on a date with a woman I hadn't seen since college(friend of friend) and it went great. Good conversation, funny, anyway we ended up back at her place. Movie goes into the DVD player and she is leaning on my shoulder. Now this is my first date with this woman, but we had hung out some in college and I realize that relationships are not exactly built on hooking up on the first date so I distance my self from this by getting another glass of wine (you know, to help my judgement... ).
So the movie is a romantic comedy about John Cussack and some gal who finds the other half of Cussacks glove pair in a sale bin. Lots of sappy stuff, lots of potential. So about 3/4th the way through the movie she asks if I can give back rubs(I can, though I usually put them in the clothes off realm) and well heck I am human I offer.
She lays down on her front facing the TV and I kneel and start rubbing. So about 5 minutes into the massage, she says stop, she does that magical bra off from under shirt and pulls her shirt off all while laying down. I don't know how women can do that, it takes me 2 hands, a bright light, and a schematic to do it. She then asks me to continue, and well being human, having an attractive half naked woman in front/under me. (no kissing here, just a back rub and her leaning on me thus far).
So she stops the massage again ans asks me to get her more wine, so I get some for both of us.
Now this is about glass 5 for me and I am really not in condition to drive(which in my mind I won't be), and I mention this. She says, not a problem you can stay here. My mind starts doing the "happy dance" (this looks something like me dancing to disco after I have aquired some sort of seziure disorder). So about 5 minutes later the movie ends and she announces that she is going to get ready for bed.
So she puts her shirt back on, and says "here is a blanket for the couch. I upstairs and we are not sleeping together". So since there hadn't been too mcuh leading(no kissing, no talk about it) on I can deal with that, IT would have been fun but hey "life is what happens when you have other plans". So I bundle up on the couch and pass out.
Next morning I get up, when she does, we have breakfast and I am off to my house. I get home and take a shower. I get out of my shower to a ringing phone and it is the mutual friend from college(we still hang out).
Apparently when my mutual friend asked how the night went it went something like I got drunk, "made advances dispite being told to stop", she pulled a gun and shot me. I cannot locate this bullet hole, I have looked, if there are SANE, attractive women reading this that are interested in looking... ;) . So my freind had known me for over 6 years at that point, and the mutual friend for only about 3 so her story got questioned. This sort of thing isn't me, I am actually a little too passive in taht department, forcing the issue isn't my style. So my friend of 6 years starts asking questions. How many times did you shoot him, where did you shoot him, what happened after you shot him, you know the pretty standard things that if you shoot someone they likely will remember.
So my friend of 6 years called me to see how my bullet wounds(yes, multiple times apparently) are doing. The version she heard of our night basicly ended with me driving off drunk into the night after bleeding all over her apartment. Only problem with this version of the evening is my lack of extra holes, stitches, my breathing(multiple bullet wounds usually require LOTS of doctors), and my truck not having blood in it. So my friend basicly says well I thought she was a little off but never that bad.
So about this time I get another phone call from a second mutual friend (small crowd) and appently a second version of events in which I was only threatened with a gun because of a warning shot has surfaced.
I haven't even finished drying my hair and I am finally hitting the relization that I have been accused of a felony( I have never even smoked pot or cigarettes at this point). I get REALLY offended that someone is accusing me of this sort of thing. If I was that desperate to get laid I would just go find a floozy at a bar, craigslist, or dial 1800escorts4u(not sure if that is a real number but it might actually be one). It still makes me mad thinking that someone accused me of that.
So I tell the second friend that if the next time she talks to this gal if she thinks that I did anything she needs to go to the cops and report it. The second friend actually had lunch later that day with her and apparently the story had grown even more to include me beating on her prior to the gun. Problem is that at 5'11 and 225 lbs, lifting weights every day and swimming 2 miles, I should be able to leave some marks.
This one scores a 10 of 10. Apparently there is a club of guys who also think that she is BSC(bat shit crazy), now woman crazy is normal, stuff like bathroom in packs, 100 pairs of shoes, does dress make me look fat questions. BSC is a much higher level of crazy, sort of like a Ford is a car, a Ferrari is a car too but with many more bells and whistles and obviously should be noticed.
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