Ok ladies and gentleman, let us discuss the 2014 Super Bowl , and by football I don’t mean the incredibly disappointing performance by the Broncos, or the sport at all, I mean dating. The illusive sport, that no one really knows how to do, but we do it anyway.
I feel that this is an important topic because dating in Los Angeles, let alone anywhere else in the world, happens, it just does, and it’s a strange state of being. Add to it, alcohol and driving, plus holiday type events, it all goes hand in hand, and can become very dangerous, very quickly.
What I am about to discuss isn’t a topic that is limited to a specific sex either. It is however, categorized as, crazy.
If you find yourself in this situation you need to get out NOW. For the safety of not only yourself, but everyone around you. There are many forms of abuse, below is just one, and I know for a fact that there are many of you out there who have been in a situation like this.
I briefly dated, what seemed like a nice respectful guy. He was so respectful that I actually gave him the time of day.
That being said, two weeks into casually dating, and mind you we hadn’t, and never will, even sealed the deal. I found myself at a super bowl party with him. Which by the way, ended up being a meet the family of 1 million cousins and family, party, party. NOT the low key thing that I thought I was getting into, but lies aside it gets better, if by better I mean worse. Where by dude, left me alone for 3-4 hours trotting off to smoke cigarettes and apparently drink A LOT. I however didn’t realized how much he was drinking. I should also note that I do not smoke cigarettes and I’ve had the flu, then bronchitis, then walking pneumonia over the last 3 weeks, so I was recovering from that, and I decided to go out after he promised it would be low key and just a chill time, where I could totally relax. NOT.
A few hours later I am surrounded by 20+ LOUD SCREAMING dudes in his relatives back yard. (Yes they were hospitable and kind but that isn’t the point of the story.) Apparently in their culture, a middle eastern culture, I am only allowed to talk to ladies because when I did have a short conversation with a human, who happened to be a male cousin by law, I got chastised about how women aren’t allowed to talk to other men. MIND YOU, remember, we haven’t done the deed, aka consummated our “relationship,” and had really only been casually dating for 2 weeks, the entire time of which I have been sick.
Um, well on the note of me having an innocent conversation with a man, if you don’t want me talking to certain people then get your stupid bottom over to me, and hang out with me, otherwise shut your face about it.
After talking with some of the women I was disgusted. This was not how I wanted to spend my Sunday, let alone the rest of my life, which was apparently what was happening without my knowledge. As it turned out, he was presenting me to THE FAMILY, 2 weeks into dating and without even being truly intimate, meaning I didn’t even know if we get along in that sexual way. I was honest about my situation with one of the girlfriends who I was “allowed” to talk to, and she was a little shocked that I was even there, and so was I.
Ok, so back story done. He comes up to me and tells me I am being a B word, and really cold towards him, and I wasn’t supposed to talk to that guy. He knew I didn’t feel great and, let us be honest, sitting in a crappy plastic chair in the back yard probably wasn’t wonderful for my health. He was probably was just jealous because that cousin in law that I spoke to was way hotter than him, and by actually talking to me, gave me way more attention in those few min than that dude had done in the last 4 hours, but I digress. I tell him I am not feeling well and need to lay down, go home, which is totally true. I was not feeling well at all. So we go inside. I grab my purse and let him know I am going home. I’ll call a cab or whatever, but I have to leave. All said in a fine tone and not yelling. He says lets go talk in the car for a minute.
It seems reasonable so I go. Which is where he tells me that I am disgracing him and his family, if I just leave without saying goodbye to the 1 million cousins in the backyard, EVEN THOUGH I AM ABOUT TO PASS OUT FROM NOT FEELING WELL, and if I leave in a cab, or by ANYONE but him, or one of his approved cousins, then he looks like he can’t handle his household. I’m like, hello, when did I become your wife? We haven’t even had sex yet. I don’t even know if we are sexually compatible yet. ALSO, WHERE IS MY RING BITCH?!?!?! You haven’t even given me the BLING and your going to try to treat me like that. Not that it would be ok then either, because crazy is never fun when you, yourself aren’t crazy. Which I am not.
Now I’ve kept my temper in check this entire time, which, if you know me, then you know I am behaving very well and it’s a miracle, until he starts yelling at me as a means to, “put me in my place.”
At that point I said to him, “You need to stop. You really don’t know what you are about to get yourself into. Because if you want to have a contest of who can be meaner, I am going to win. You obviously haven’t taken the time to get to know me, you are making a really bad decision right now.”
He doesn’t stop yelling. I’m feeling like I am going to pass out. So, I yell at him because he is insane, and I am done being yelled at. The point in a relationship, where I choose to yell like that, is the end point. It’s over. There is no going back but that doesn’t mean it has to get even worse, which it does. Read on.
Then he stops yelling, and shifts the blame onto me, saying I am soooo loud yelling at him and abusing him, that his family in the back yard can probably hear me, and again tells me that I am disgracing his entire family by simply existing. I said, then you shouldn’t have started yelling at me you idiot.
So he says, ok I will take you home. I said, let me out of the car. He wouldn’t let me out, he had those auto locks. He refused to let anyone else take me home and started driving while yelling, again. I looked out the window, wondering how this had become my life. I am so careful when I date people, so incredibly picky, but that is the point, ANYONE can become involved in something they didn’t agree to. I didn’t agree to this.
Now here is the part where I know it’s relatable to EVERYONE, and is an important topic. I didn’t know how much he was drinking. It turns out he had at least 4/5 shots of what is called FIREBALL, on top of at least 1 beer and 4 really strong mixed vodka drinks at MINIMUM, over a 4 hour period.
However, I didn’t know because I was hanging out with myself, and the approved lady, the last 4 hours, which basically means I made friends with a heat lamp.
So, he starts driving erratic. I notice and get scared because my life is literally in his hands. I ask him, in a calm voice, how much he drank. He responded with the amounts above. He starts yelling again. His driving gets even more erratic, he is yelling at me, yelling at people, yelling about anything and everything under the sun, while driving crazy.
I am scared for both my life and the life of those on the road, and his. I ask him to stop driving erratically, and calmly point out all the things he can lose with his current actions, and what if we die, or they die. He tells me to shut the F up.
I tell him to pull over somewhere safe and let me out of the car because I don’t want to die on a Super Bowl Sunday in the Inland Empire, like ewww, but also, because my kid needs his mom to get to school tomorrow!!!!! This is where it gets even crazier, he says, I mean YELLS at me, “Don’t tell me how to drive!! If I want to drive this way I’m f-ing going to. It would be worth it to die this way if it means I get to die with you. I tell you when you can die!!!”
I’m am trapped in a car with a crazy person. I yell louder than him because it’s the only thing that gets him to listen to let me, and get’s him to stop or think, that I want out of the car now before he kills me, NOW.
At which point he gets to an off ramp. Me, fearing for my life, I scream at him to slow down because he wasn’t slowing down as he was exiting the freeway. Instead he yells more ridiculous things at me and goes faster. I’m afraid for my life, so I open the car door because I’m not about to die by his hand, I’d rather at least try to get away via jumping out of the moving vehicle if he is about to crash into anything (I watch too many movie) than be a dead DUI rage victim by the hands of someone I hardly even know.
So, he finally realizes I am serious about not wanting to be in a car with a psycho, and stops, then tells me to get the F out of the car, ON THE SIDE OF THE FREEWAY OFF RAMP! Not at a gas station or a fast food place, like a normal person would do. But I get out because I want out of the car and this is probably my only chance.
I didn’t care that I had no idea where I was, or how unsafe it was for me to be on the side of the freeway off ramp. I would rather take my chances like that, than be killed by someone who I haven’t even had sex with. This is called abuse. This isn’t love. This isn’t a nice person. This is a wolf in disguise, one who almost killed me, one who could have killed me.
So my dear readers. If you find yourself in that situation where someone is willing to risk both your life, and theirs over pride, or anger, or alcohol or whatever, you need to get out NOW. THIS BEHAVIOR ISN’T GOING TO IMPROVE. It will however get worse. And don’t think that will be the end of it.
If someone is willing to use fear tactics to get you to behave in anyway, that is called abuse. That is an abusive person and you need to get out now. So I got out. No amount of calls or texts or unannounced visits will ever make me give him another chance. EVER. He put my life in danger, there is nothing beautiful or okay about that. That is the opposite of beauty. Love can, and should be, a beautiful thing.
As I said before this isn’t a gender thing because I know some ladies who have done things like this to their significant others, and then called it love. It’s not love. Love means not wanting to kill yourself and/or your partner. Love is respecting the person you are with, as well as yourself.
He is now trying to save face with his family by calling me 7 times a day and sending me text messages about how I am throwing away a GREAT WONDERFUL guy. Yeah, a great wonderful guy who was willing to possibly kill me, in a car, on a freeway in the Inland Empire. That isn’t the way I want to go out!
I really wish I could give out DUI’S to people because he needed to be pulled over that night, yet there were no cops around.
You know, you can blame alcohol, but the fact is, there are underlying psychological issues that make people behave that way. Regardless of what those issues are, that behavior it is unforgivable, and unforgettable.
I realize that dating is confusing, but this situation falls under many of my warning categories, and you bet your bottom I will never allow myself to be in a car with this person again, let alone date him. There are better ways to say I love you than, “Hey B word, I am going to show you how much I am “in love with you” by threatening to kill you in my car on the freeway.” That just isn’t a good way to say I am in love with you. The saddest part is he totally had me fooled, but only for 2 weeks. So by all accounts I got off easy, though totally scared for my life as it flashed before my eyes, that night in his car.
If you ever find yourself in this situation, or anything like this, I don’t care how “nice” the person seems, or how people perceive them, you need to stand up for yourself and get out NOW. You deserve to be with someone who values your personal safety, who truly values you for who you are, and not for how others perceive them. There is nothing wrong with being single, and you deserve to wait to find the person who will respect both you, and your safety, and the safety of those around them. There is nothing more beautiful than being with someone who respects you. Being with someone who is abusive, isn’t beautiful, and no one deserves to be abused.