Jdate?...no, Jdisaster

I was having a late lunch with Jordan at Newsroom today when she told me about the sheer train-wreck that was her date last night. After having exchanged numerous emails with Breathing guy, and then a couple phone calls the two decided to get together. Breathing guy liked to talk a lot (which Jordan thought might be good since she preferred...well not to talk, generally). But she couldn't shake the feeling that his incessant talking was maybe more than chattiness and fell somewhere more along the lines of creepiness for whatever reason. Jordan told me she now knows always to trust her gut. But so the date was off, and the two met up for tea in Hollywood. Breathing guy talked, and talked, and was more than awkward, and was definitely - as Jordan had initially thought - creepy. Jordan downed her tea in her eagerness to get the hell out of there; but Breathing guy was taking his sweet-ass time (probably due to all his yapping). Finally, he finished and he walked Jordan back to her car when, when with the thought of the date ending, he was suddenly struck with sadness pangs. Breathing guy suggested a movie at the nearby Arclight, which Jordan brushed off with a "I have to get up really early tomorrow" (come on guys, that's the universal sign the girl's not into you and wants to get home asap). However, Breathing guy was not having any of this and basically pulled Jordan away, taking her hand with his clammy paw. They walked over to the Arclight. After deliberating on the movie, Breathing guy bought tickets for what turned out to be the longest movie ever made! In the seclusion of the dark, hermetically sealed theater, Breathing guy made his move: first, the hand massaging (that apparently went on all three hours of the movie). If I were Jordan, there would have been an exchange somewhat akin to this: Excuse me, Breathing guy, but you had to virtually drag me to this movie, in what universe does this mean that I then want your disgusting, clammy, huge-ass hand caressing mine for 3+ hours? Then...the hands moved to her leg. That, my friends, is no bueno. So after readjusting in her seat, Breathing guy's hand removed itself, and the movie watching went on....and on....and on. After what apparently, Breathing guy thought was a spectacular date, he walked Jordan to her car (again) and as she was trying to slip into her car, he planted one on her, and ever so casually tried to slip her the tongue, as well. After Jordan pulled away and threw up in her mouth a little bit, she hopped into her car and sped off.

At around 4 am that morning Jordan was awakened from her sleep by a phone call - she let it ring. Then 30 seconds later, another phone call. And finally another 30 seconds after that, one more call. They were all from, you guessed it, Breathing guy. Now you may be asking yourself, why "Breathing guy" (I was curious myself why she referred to him as this until she got to this point in the story). He left 3 messages for lovely Jordan, each one a solid 4 minutes long of strictly him breathing. Yup, that's right. Creepers left 3 good, long breathing messages. Oh but this wasn't the end - on our way back from lunch, Jordan got a text message from Breathing guy telling her he "had a good time on their date, but isn't looking for anything serious right now, and thinks they should slow things down". WTF?!? Breathing guy belongs not on Jew-date, but in a mental health facility. Well at least it makes for a good story at cocktail parties, right?