Better Red Than Dead

Story Sent in by Cora:

Bart arrived on our first date in an old t-shirt and jeans, covered with bright red spatters. I knew that he was a painter, so that explained why, although that didn't necessarily excuse why he looked like a serial killer.

"I was in the studio and lost track of time," he explained.

Fair enough, but he attracted a lot of strange looks. We were out to lunch at a crowded cafe and he really did stick out. During our talk he'd blurt out, "I'm not a killer," loud enough for people nearby to hear. I think he did it because of how he looked. But if anything I think that made him stick out even more.

After lunch he asked me if I wanted to go to a movie. There were films out we both wanted to see so we agreed on one and we went to the theater and he paid for the tickets. I thanked him and I waited for him at the concession stand as he went to the bathroom.

He took a while and came back right around when our movie was starting. He told me, "These guys in the bathroom were bothering me so I told them I was a killer and they had better leave me alone. That's why I wore this, today. But anyway they said they'd call the cops so if we're thrown out of the movie I just want you to know that it's not my fault."

I didn't know how to take that so we went into the theater and sat down with everyone else. Sure enough, about 10 minutes into the movie, a pair of ushers came in with flashlights and they looked down each row and when they came to us they asked Bart to go with them. He went calmly and I just stayed there and watched them take him away. But then I felt guilty and so I left the theater shortly afterward.

Out in the lobby I didn't see Bart or the ushers who had taken him so I went to customer service and asked them where Bart was. They girl behind the desk said that she didn't know. I called Bart's phone and sent him a text but he didn't write back. So I went back into the theater to watch the rest of the movie.

I called Bart again that night and he picked up. He told me that they had told him that he couldn't wear his red-spattered clothing inside the theater. He had then offered to take off his clothes and go nude, and they then told him to leave. He ranted about how no one understood artists and painters and asked me over to his place for that night. I turned him down and he didn't call me again.

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The next post will be on Tuesday.