"Just Dent it Up a Little"

Story Submitted by Esther:

When Clyde first emailed me over a dating site, I didn't respond, because I had just started seeing someone else and was about a day away from deleting my profile, which I subsequently did.

A couple of weeks afterward, things didn't work out with the guy I was seeing, and I reactivated my profile.  Remembering Clyde's message, I wrote him back without alluding to my profile's disappearance or the reasons behind it.  We spoke for a little bit and agreed that meeting up would be a logical next step.

We met at a cafe (having driven there separately) and shortly after we sat down together, he said, "It took you a little while to respond to my message.  I figured you weren't interested."

I explained, "That wasn't it.  It sometimes takes me a while to catch up with my regular emails, much less my dating site ones."

He said, "I see.  And the fact that you deleted your profile also had nothing to do with my message, I'm sure."  His tone of voice made it sound as if he was the reason I had deleted my profile.

I said, "That had nothing to do with it.  It was because of something completely other than you."

"Just a strange coincidence that I write to you, and you delete your profile."

I replied, "But I wrote back, and now we're meeting in person.  Do you think I would have done that if I deleted my profile because of you in the first place?"

He shrugged.  "Maybe this is just a pity date for you.  Poor asshole Clyde.  No one else will date him, and I guess my number's up.  Taking one for the team."

"It's not like that at all."

He rolled his eyes, sighed, sat back, and said, "Yes it is."

I said, "Okay, or you can just wallow in self-misery."

His face twitched and he leaned in suddenly as if shoved by an unseen force.  He said, "Maybe I'll teach you some respect."  He stood up and left the cafe.  I remained where I was, but I reached for my phone, in case dialing 911 would become necessary.

A minute later, he returned to the table and asked me, "Where's your car?"

I asked, "Why?"

He replied, "Because I want to break it.  Just dent it up a little."

I narrowed my eyes at him.  "I don't think I'll be telling you which car is mine, then."

He nodded, pursed his lips, and exited the cafe again.  I called a friend to ask for a ride, as I wasn't sure if Clyde would be waiting outside the cafe to follow me back to my car.

My friend came by and we hung out at his house for awhile before he drove me back to where I had parked my car.  I drove it away and back to my house without incident.

When I made it home, I blocked Clyde from contacting me on the site, and I never heard from him again.