Overdose of Ozone

Almost every girl can recall a situation where she was fiercely uncomfortable in a “date scenario” but continued to drag the night out. I have mine and it pierces my mind vividly and kind of makes me cringe. We will call him “Ozone.” Ozone is not a peen, just weird as hell. I am going to blame some of the following anecdotes on the fact I had a fever and was pumping meds through my sickly little body.


I was hanging out with a guy friend (we‘ll call him Tattoo). Perhaps you would call him more of an acquaintance. He came to a get-together at my house one time and never pursued me. Would have definitely given him a little shimmy, but the dude wasn’t giving me anything to work with. What a shame. Anyway, I met Ozone through Tattoo and Ozone was making eyes at me in the first five seconds. Standard love triangle sitch. The actual guy you’re into isn’t feeling it, but his friend with pit-bull nipples is obsessed with you.


So here’s how the night went down. Ozone invites me to hang out for some wine tasting in a group setting. I think to myself, “I’ll flirt a little with Tattoo and maybe there’s a chance.” Meanwhile, Ozone is sizing me up and ready to put a ring on it. Ozone offered to pick me up and take me to the restaurant. Looking back, he was thinking he was courting me. I was thinking of how I could get Tattoo to hit on me.


He comes into my home and my roommate gives me a look like, “what the hell?!” As mentioned before, I go for the bookish boys typically. This Ozone guy was a Texas oil cowboy and pumped the iron. He looked very meaty and had a sharp edge to say the least. I guaranteed my concerned roomie, “Oh we’re just friends. This guy is intriguing and fun.”


Let’s recap the goods he brought to my house. After showing us his inked-filled chest of the heart chakra, he provides me with ozone water to drink and an ozone balm to rub on my skin. Since I was ill, he swore this would do the trick. “None of that antibiotic crap that’s a hoax.” I’ll take Amoxicillin over ozone water, thank you very much. My roommate insists I don’t drink the ozone water, so he takes a swig himself to prove he’s not drugging me in an attempted abduction. I pass on the magical water but politely dab a little ozone balm on my wrist. It’s the least I could do since he brewed this shit in his garage.


We get in his fancy Range Rover and head to the restaurant. I quickly realize that it’s feeling like a date. As the night unfolds, Tattoo shows up to the restaurant late and I’m feeling more and more out of my element and disinterested. Ozone asks if I’m hungry and “let’s get out of here and get some dinner.” Looking back now, I could just kick myself in the rear. Why the heck did I continue to spend the evening with him? Of course he thought I was interested!


We go to a hippie-ish organic place that wasn’t my scene. To top off the awkwardness of the night, he finds an appropriate time between the couscous and farm fresh chicken to tell me he used to be a nymphomaniac. How the hell do you respond to a left field statement like that on a first “date?” My silence encouraged him to explain himself further. He is now abstinent until he finds “the one.” Two years and counting of a sex-free life. I wanted to scream, “Well honey that sure as hell ain’t gonna be me. As far as you’re concerned, this chick has on a chastity belt.” I just nodded politely as if he commented on the weather.


It gets worse and I take full responsibility for my lack of being bold and assertive. I’m shocked, as I’m usually a little too ballsy for being a girl. In this situation, I was a timid little peach as I let him talk me into a movie. Yep this was definitely a date. I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience and couldn’t say, “take me home.” Once again, I’m blaming the meds and my rotting-brain fever. At one point during the rom-com, he curls his bulging sausage fingers into mine. I quickly retreat, reaching into my purse for the first object I could find. How could he not tell from my body language I wasn’t into it?


Finally a little after midnight, he returns me to my casa. Dreading the good night moment, I start throwing out words like “friend” and anything else that could insinuate this wasn’t a date, even though he paid for everything. What a rude little bitch I was. Not letting me open one door the whole night, he parks the car and gets out to open the passenger door. He stared into my eyes and I wondered if I should shake his hand or maybe a polite curtsy? What’s the friendliest action I could take? Didn’t want him thinking I’d be reaching for any other appendages on his steroid-infused bod. He nabs my cheek with his lips and says he can’t wait to see me next. I go up to the door and it’s bolted. At this point I want to cry. I called my roommate seven times in a row and she didn‘t answer.


I couldn’t get into the garage to get my car. My roommate was not answering the door or her phone. What was I going to do? Ask him to take me to the nearest Holiday Inn Express? I had visions of me being forced to spend the night at his place. Glimpses of sex trinkets and beakers filled with ozone flashed in my head. Don’t make me spend the night with the ozone-obsessed former sex maniac! Just as I was about to burst into tears, I hear the happiest sound in the world at that moment. The door was being unlocked. My roomie answered the door and I quickly sprung inside the safety of my own walls. I have never felt such a sense of relief after a social situation.


Although I didn’t handle the night the best way, I managed to escape unscathed. I smelled like ozone for 48 hours but I guess that’s what I get. Ozone continued to contact me via text and I made it very clear I wanted him in the friend zone. I guess our energies didn’t match up as well as he thought with all that energy mumbo jumbo he spouted off during the night. Lesson learned – don’t get in an uncomfortable situation with a guy you’re not interested in. And for me, this confirmed my desire to be with a bookish boy more than ever. After this date, I longed for a slightly nerdy guy who was just into regular, non-nympho sex.