Everybody Wines Alone

Story Sent in by Joshua:

Stephanie and I met at a local geology club outing. We were in a small group that explored a cave complex. We spent more time talking to each other than we did about rocks, and by the end of the excursion, I had her number and plans for a first date.

I took her out to a restaurant that I thought fitting: it had a downstairs eating area with one wall that was entirely natural rock. We sat at a table close to it and enjoyed conversation over glasses of wine.

It was after her second glass that she asked me, "Do you want to sleep with anyone in the rock club?"

Well, I kind of wanted to sleep with Stephanie, herself, but in the interests of decorum, I said, "No one immediately comes to mind, but I'd keep my options open." I meant to imply her by that last part. I wasn't sure if she'd pick up on it.

She said, "Liz wants to sleep with you."

Liz was in our club, and was in her early twenties. She was a know-it-all who found a way to twist every conversation into a discussion about how awesome she was. Not interested.

I said as much to Stephanie, "Liz isn't my type."

Stephanie said, "I figured. But I'm not your type, either."

Uh oh. "How can you be so sure?"

Stephanie laughed and said, "You don't understand. Liz isn't your type. I'm not your type. No one is your type. I don't want you to end up with anyone. Understand?"

"Not really."

She leaned in and cleared her throat. "I don't want you to end up with anyone. So I'm going to do everything I can to make sure that you don't."

I wasn't sure where this was coming from. Perhaps two glasses of wine were too much for her. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I'm going to probably die alone, and why should I be the only one?"

"I don't think you have to die alone."

She muttered something I couldn't hear, then stood up and said, "I'm going to go home to do that right now."

She swept out before I could say anything else. I hurried to slam a few bills on the table to pay for the drinks, and I ran outside, but she wasn't there.

After hearing those words, I knew I had to do something, but I didn't know her address. I called her number. No answer. I then called 911 and explained the situation. I gave them her number and name, in the hope that, if she actually was planning to do something, that somehow, the authorities would stop her. Maybe she was joking, maybe she was drunk, but it had all been so sudden and so bitter on her part, that I didn't want to take a chance.

She never came back to the geology club meetings afterward, but last I Googled her, she's alive, but living an hour away. I have no idea if there was an intervention or if she even needed one, but I stand by my decision to make the call.