Trainwreck

When I first met him he looked like someone I’d share a beer with and then probably never see again. His hair looked slimy; he had brushed it behind his ears. His eyes looked clouded, and it seemed like his mind had been cloudy as well for a while. He was sitting at the bar, waiting for me, and wearing a grey T-shirt and jeans. I asked him about his style, what his clothes meant to him and he said he just liked the color. I thought to myself that this was going to be a very boring first date and I had already started thinking of reasons why I should ditch him early and block his number.

           After two beers, we started talking about his past and he told me that he’s single because he and his ex had never discussed what “cheating” meant for their relationship and he though drunk-kissing someone did not count as such. I immediately thought he was one of those guys and fully decided to block his number after this. But it was my first night out in a while, my first date in years, so I just decided to hang out a little bit longer and make some conversation. He stopped talking about his past and an awkward silence fell over our conversation. A piece of news was playing on TV in the corner and a voice said that someone was badly hurt in a car accident when they crossed the street. This gave me an idea for a subject so I asked:

           “What do you think about people who cross the street at red light?”

           “They should die,” he said without looking at me. “All people that cross the law should die.”

           I was in utter shock and murmured “But what makes you think that way?”

           “Well I think the law is made to be respected and if people cross the street when they shouldn’t they risk being hit and they should be.” His gaze met mine as I was curious what he would say next. However, he fell silent and I so I asked: “What if you cross the street when you shouldn’t?”

           “Then I should die too,” he said. “I wish I had a number of times in the past, but no one would hit me.” At this point in the conversation I was questioning my decision of going out more than I had until now. What am I dealing with here?

           “Okay, but what about a child, what if a child crosses the street?” I asked next, curious at what his reply would be. His speech started slurring and he mumbled something that I did not manage to understand. I think the alcohol started getting to him. He fell silent again and I decided to listen to the news and wait a few more minutes before I’ll have an emergency and leave.

           “Why are you asking me so many questions? This is a date, not a philosophy class,” he suddenly said, seeming completely awake from his tipsiness. He stared at me with a blank expression on his face. His blue eyes were showing the effects of alcohol, but he seemed completely sober.

           “Well, it is a date, so I am trying to get to know you better.”

           “By asking me about the law? What are you trying to do, find out if I’m a criminal?” He scoffed and looked away. “I might as well have said all that to test you too.”

           “You might have, but did you?”

           He stopped for a second and shrugged his shoulders. I then decided to take a break from this conversation and head to the bathroom. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll leave in the meantime. I was in the bathroom for almost 10 minutes and I intentionally spent that time washing my hands and thinking about this unusual person. Like, I know I have been single for a while, but dropping the bar this low is not something I’d do. What made me match his profile AND come out for a few drinks after a couple of texts?

           When I headed out, I made the right turn towards the bar from that small hallway that leads to the bathroom and I saw him from a different angle. He looked familiar, but changed in a way. It struck me right then and there. He was the guy from the restaurant!

           A few years ago I was struggling financially and took up a waitress job in a fancy restaurant downtown. At some point, this 40 something guy held the door open for what looked like a teenager and they sat down at one of the tables in the center. My colleague, Lisa, served those tables and at first we thought “what a nice pair! It’s lovely when a dad spends time with his daughter.” We could swear she didn’t look older than 15. Before the food was ready, the girl went to the bathroom and she kissed the man on her way there. Lisa lost it and instantly rushed to his table to yell at him.

           “How dare you date a minor?!” she said, with her hands above her head, wailing.

           “Excuse me?” he replied, his face changing to one of a shock combined with surprise.

           “I saw her! She kissed you! Who do you think you are to date a teenager and think you can get away with it, sir?” she got quite worked up and later on she told me that her little sister got knocked up by an older guy that groomed her. She could not stand these types of men.

           “First of all, young lady, I am a customer. It is not natural for you to yell at me in an establishment where you work to serve me. I want to speak with your manager.” He looked at her calmly while gently placing a napkin on his lap.

           “I ain’t calling no manager! I’m gonna call the police!” she yelled back.

           I was watching in awe how this all went down very fast and I was thinking I should probably interfere, but on what side? The old man dating a girl or my coworker that was acting beyond unprofessional?

           “Second of all,” he continued like she didn’t just yell at him, “I am a university professor and I teach in the field of ethics. Do you think I would actually do something against the law as dating a minor?” He placed his hands on the table, holding the left hand that was forming a fist with his right hand. “You just assumed she was a teen by her looks and came yelling at me. I still do want to speak with your manager.”

           “What’s happening?” The girl stepped closer to their table with a confused look on her face while wiping her wet hands on the sides of her jeans.

           “Nothing, darling. I just wanted to speak to the manager, as I believe this lady is not doing her job well.”

           “Oh, cut her some slack,” the girl replied, “maybe it’s her first week working here.” She sat down at the table and ordered some water. Lisa was baffled at this interaction and she put her notebook in the pocket of her apron saying:

           “I’m sorry, but how old are you?”

           The girl was appalled at her question. “19, why?” she disclosed. “Now I understand why you wanted to speak to a manager.” She signed in the air to me, like she wanted me to come to their table. “Can you continue to serve us today and please go get the manager?”

           I nodded yes and turned away, walking towards the kitchen. I overheard Lisa asking the girl is she was his student and when the girl replied yes, Lisa said to the man:

           “Is it ethical for a professor to date his student?”

           I entered the kitchen and didn’t hear the rest of the conversation. Lisa got fired, but she filled a complaint to the university about this guy dating students. I heard later from her that he lost his position a few weeks later, after the university found out he had been dating multiple students. Lisa found another job at some restaurant and we lost touch, but the last thing she said to me was how happy she were knowing this guy “went down for what he did”.

           I realized I had been standing next to the wall for some time remembering all this. I was way over 30 when I was working in that restaurant, so our age gaps weren’t that big. But I just couldn’t jump over the fact that this highly moral, law abiding guy was the same one dating his students. I walked over to the bar and told him:

           “Goodbye, professor. I hope your life will continue to be grey.”

           He replied “What the hell is your problem, woman?!” as I was shutting the door behind me. I blocked his number in the taxi and deleted that app. Maybe I’ll meet someone directly, I should go out more, I thought to myself. The taxi was speeding as it started to rain. I hope I’ll never see him again.