You've Got To Be Fucking Kidding Me

I ran into the other woman my date was going out with twice on the same day

Illustration by the shockingly strong Nicholas Konrad.

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Thanks to everyone who sent reactions to last week’s essay! Including a surprising number of former-dates. It has been more gratifying than I imagined it could be.

This week I’ve got a shorter one for you. It picks up where the last one left off - with Archery Man. 

I. The Invitation 

On our fourth date, we ran into another woman Archery Man was dating, not once but twice. 

For reasons I do not fully understand, Archery Man had become palpably more interested in me after our weird Gowanus date. I think part of it was the drink we got post-archery. After some beers and a sherry (rogue! I know!) he spilled his guts about his most recent 6 year relationship. I watched his eyes get kind of glassy as he talked about the shock of it ending and what it felt like to know that there would never be anyone to talk to about all their shared memories. In short, the date had left us both feeling vulnerable, or maybe comfortable enough to be vulnerable, and we were therefore now more connected. 

As an acknowledgement of our growing closeness, he suggested that we take the next step in our relationship. We should have lunch together with the most important figure in his life: his dog. 

II. The First Sighting

I showed up a little bit late to the fancy restaurant he had picked in a very weird dress. After trying on at least 5 different outfits for my roommate, deciding that all of them were wrong, checking the time and then panic dressing, I had ended up in one of the stranger items in my wardrobe: a vintage dress covered in images of fruit. 

I would have been more self conscious had I not spotted him already seated at a table outside the restaurant, in an equally colorful, attention commanding shirt. We laughed and exchanged compliments and then I bent down and made a big fuss about his dog, performing a level of excitement that I hoped would mask the fact that I do not actually care very much about animals.    

The date was going great. We ordered, we ate, we chatted. At one point, almost on cue, a woman the year above me in college walked by on the street with her partner and I waved them over to say hello. She practically bounced over in excitement, holding out her hand. “We just got engaged!” Archery Man and I gave each other a wide eyed look that I took to mean: Damn the universe is really tempting us to imagine ourselves in their position one day.

When they left, Archery Man leaned back in his chair and asked me what would happen if he started to really like me. I smiled, feeling rather excited that I might be winning him over and began on some kind of answer to the effect of “we’ll have to see” before he interrupted me. “Wait sorry, can you repeat what you just said” he asked. “Someone just walked by who I went on a date with and she totally clocked me and the fact that we’re on a date and I got very thrown by it.”

It’s hard to explain, but I did not find this off-putting. Of course it was a little bit strange that he was sharing this information with me. After all, I had not seen this woman and would not have known he had stopped listening to me, had he not pointed it out. But the fact that he felt compelled to share - that he actually couldn’t hide his internal thoughts - I found that kind of endearing. 

“Oh no,” I said. “Is this someone you used to date or someone you’re currently seeing?”  

“We went out recently,” he offered, as though that was an answer to my question. 

Knowing that someone you’re dating might be seeing other people is different it turns out from having it confirmed to your face. I felt a teeny bit jealous, maybe a twinge of surprise. But the level of guilt and concern he expressed, suggested to me that he cared deeply for the people he was seeing, and that I found very attractive. Plus, I was also seeing other people. More than anything, I felt like this guy and I seemed to have a remarkable amount in common. 

III. The Recovery

It helped that from there, our date flowed along with momentum and lightness.

After our lunch, he showed me his apartment which was airy and spacious and decorated so extremely to my taste, it felt like I could have selected the furniture and art. 

We sat and chatted, in that overly earnest way that would be embarrassing for anyone else to overhear, about what we wanted and feared, in life and in romantic partnerships. 

We hooked up, and while I gave him my usual spiel  - about how I was unusually uncomfortable and in my head the first time I slept with anyone and so we should probably commit to doing this more than once before drawing any conclusions about our compatibility - it turned out to be totally unnecessary because it was fun and easy and not remotely awkward. 

So no I was not really worried about this other woman, whoever she was. In fact I don’t even think she was on my mind until he brought her up again, this time with more context. 

This whole afternoon, he explained, had been so much fun, so energizing, that it had clarified his feelings for this other woman. It turned out, they had gone on 8 dates, and he had been somewhat tormented about whether he wanted to keep seeing her. On their last date, which was two days ago (yes, 2), she had pointed out that he seemed to be pulling away. They had agreed to take some time to reflect on what they each wanted before getting back to each other. But now, thanks to me, he was sure it wasn’t quite the right fit. 

Obviously I felt elated. There is nothing quite like having your feelings for someone reciprocated in such a sweet and honest way. But I also felt concern for this mystery woman. “You really should text her,” I said. “She’s probably freaking out. I would be!” 

He agreed. He would do it as soon as we parted ways. Right after we took his dog for a walk in the park.

IV. The Second Sighting

On our walk through the park, with his sweet little dog attracting attention from young children (the dog I hate to admit, was starting to grow on me), he asked how I felt about PDA. “Yeah fine” I said. In retrospect, a clear sign that I was really into this guy, as one time several ago when someone grabbed my hand, I had such an uncontrollable disgust reaction that I physically recoiled and had to apologize.

He threaded his fingers through mine as we walked to the one section of the park where dogs can roam and splash in a little pond, off leash. 

Off his dog ran around the permitter of the water, barking like a lifeguard at much larger dogs that were swimming. We observed from a bench, occasionally laughing, mostly sitting in silence, drowsy with early dating euphoria. 

At some point, (in my recollection, shortly after he kissed me on the cheek - though this is disputed) a figure caught my attention in the distance. A woman was having some kind of visceral reaction. She stopped abruptly, gestured in our direction, audibly muttered “you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me” and then stormed off down a path, hidden behind thick brush.

Before my brain could even begin to process what had happened, Archery Man said, “Oh my god. That was her.”

Not to go all cliched writing on you, but at this point, his face really did go white. It looked like his heart had stopped pumping blood for a second, and he might pass out.

“You’ve gotta go after her,” I said. 

“Are you sure,” he asked, seemingly still barely breathing.

“Yes, I’m sure,” I said. 

He paused for a moment and then said “Ok. Could you just watch my dog?”

The instructions were fast and brief. He handed me a remote that controlled the electric collar his dog was wearing. If he’s misbehaving, try calling his name. If that doesn’t work, press this button to give him a little electric shock. 

“Uh…ok” I said, leaving out the fact that the only time someone left me alone with their dog, I hid in a locked room for several hours cowering in fear. 

There was no time for any further questions. Archery Man was gone, behind the brush, out of sight. 

V. Just Me And The Dog

For the first few minutes, I thought to myself, everything is going to be fine. The dog is playing. He’s not running away. Archery Man will be right back. 

But then a very jacked man in a muscle tank top and cargo shorts called out angrily: Whose dog is this?

“Uh mine,” I explained. “Well sort of, it’s my friend’s dog, I’m just watching it,” I added, knowing fully well this man did not need to understand the details of my predicament.  

The jacked man was pissed. Apparently the little dog I was watching was playing too rough with his dog, a dog at least twice if not three times his size. “Get your dog away from mine.” 

I apologized a bunch of times trying to defuse the situation and then called for the dog, trying to sound more authoritative with each successive attempt. If the dog heard me, it did not acknowledge it. It kept on barking and running up to the jacked man’s dog. I tried going after it, practically wading into the water to reach it, but the two dogs kept fighting, evading me, barking louder.

Now at this point, I should explain that this dog was not just Archery Man’s prized possession, essentially his child. This sweet pooch was also one of the few remaining vestiges of his prior relationship, the big love of his life. He shared the dog with his former girlfriend of 6 years. 

So I did what I had to do to protect this dog from the scary angry man. I zapped the shit out of it. 

Every time it barked, every time it made a run for the big dog, I pressed the button. Three times, four times, I don’t know how many,  I lost count. I electrocuted this poor dog until it stopped for long enough that the jacked man could put his giant dog on a leash and leave. 

I made a silent promise to the dog that if it would just be good, not cause any more problems until Archery Man came back, I would buy it a treat. 

Thirty minutes later, when Archery Man finally returned, I felt tremendous relief. 

I made good on my commitment a few weeks later and bought the dog a $30 antler that it chewed on for like a week. 

(Before the date) The unlucky outfit that surely played a small role in making us utterly unmissable.