They Said You Was High Class

Submitted by Kimberly:

Ben took me out to dinner and drinks, the drinks definitely easing me into a more relaxed and talkative state.  I let my guard down, admittedly.

It began innocently enough.  He asked me about one past relationship after another, just a little here, a little there.  How long did they last?  How did we meet?  Why did they end?

He told me that he liked dressing up like Elvis for his girlfriends.  I told him that it was likely something that wouldn't turn me on, although I didn't think less of him for having such a fetish.  He then initiated a long, long conversation about how so many women found Elvis attractive.  Why didn't I?

He used examples from what I had told him about my past relationships, using them to indicate that I might have been into something freaky, and, when I didn't change my opinion about his Elvis antics, mused that my relationships ended because I was a "closed-minded bitch."

"Check it out," he said at one point, when I was ready to leave, and he broke into an impromptu Elvis dance-jig-thing right there in the restaurant.  I would have thought it dorky and charming if the guy wasn't such an asshole.  He danced like a walrus that had been set upside-down and was struggling to right itself.

Then, he made a clumsy bow, walked off into the restaurant, and didn't come back.  It was as if he had lost interest.  I was hoping that he had, since I waited ten minutes, then left.  Thankfully, we had already paid the check.