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One of the eye-opening truths of adulthood is that New Year’s Eve isn’t nearly as cool, fab, and romantic as we often idealized it to be when we were younger. Sometimes it’s just plain weird and seems to bring out the strangest who walk among us. This is not restricted to celebration locale as one might assume because some places offer up more weirdness than others on this auspicious occasion. These strangos walk everywhere on the planet.

What comes to mind and is even indelibly imprinted on my mind is one fateful date I had while I was a college junior and still had a mindset that New Year’s Eve was an important fete to celebrate. Of course this was a blind date arranged by my roommate and his girlfriend which should have forewarned me but I was young and daring (as well as fascinating and remarkably handsome) and willing to oblige my friends.

All I was told about this girl is that she was a “looker” and a very “spiritual” person.

Definitely an understatement.

At that time I was just getting into metaphysics – researching and reading various topics whenever I had some free time. Perhaps this new “hottie” would have some interesting things to say from her own experiences that I would find useful. Surely my charming ways could easily get her to opine away. So, we set out for the party which was being held at another friend’s house. Even better – this meet-up, as it saved me from having to pick her up.

The party was already in full swing when we arrived – plenty of holiday cheer to go around being displayed loud and raucous. Our host greeted us and immediately offered drinks while promising a good time. About ten minutes into the soirée, I asked my companions where my date was hiding, then as if she heard me, we spotted a female figure approaching us through the haze of the smoke filled room.

When she came into focus I could indeed see that she really was gorgeous and I immediately became glad that I had decided to come. I was immediately taken in by this vision of beauty … this miracle of femininity … this goddess.  My friends performed a quick introduction then conveniently disappeared into the fog. Now there is something to be said about the term “blind date” which I would soon discover but in the meantime let’s just say I was blinded but certainly, in retrospect, not by the light.

 I guided her over to a slightly more secluded corner where we could actually hear each other over the din and the conversation commenced.

That was the beginning of the end.

She sounded exactly like Betty Boop. I kid you not. Betty Boop.

Added to this assault on sound, she was using some slang that was a weird combo of Webster’s Dictionary of Lost Words and freely expressed swears along with what seemed like her demented version of Hip Hop. Fortunately I was able to decipher most of it, intelligent and patient man that I am. Her drink was getting low so I asked her if she would like a refill and asked her what she was drinking as I didn’t recognize it (a common occurrence among college students as new concoctions are always being formulated). She told me just to bring her some ice as she had the bottle of “elixir” in her purse. Dutifully I fetched the ice from the kitchen and hurried back to our secluded corner while catching a wink and big smile from my roommate.

When I sat down I noticed she had already extracted the bottle from her purse and was waiting to pour it over the ice. The bottle had no label so I asked her what it was.

“Cactus juice,” she said assertively, “I spent some time out in the dessert last spring and learned how to milk cactus plants from some of the locals. It was so spiritual and enlightening ... the beginnings of a new me! I saw visions after sharing the Peyote and was told to cure others with this stuff. I’m a metaphysician you know ordained by the Great Spirit of the Desert. You can’t go any higher than that.  It is real good stuff – fix all yer ills – bust right through constipation if your bowels are hard – make ya spit those sh*t rocks right out of your fat can with blast power AND it will clear up your sinuses in a snappo. Want some for your tum-tum spirit?”

She then shoved her hand aggressively on my stomach and poked it twice telling me my ‘tum-tum’ spirit wasn’t ‘vibrating’ correctly. She said if I removed my ‘browser trousers’ she could run some Reiki on me while loudly claiming she was fully attuned to several alternative varieties.

There was no way in hell I was taking off my jeans.

I declined politely. She asked me if I was sure because I looked a little pale and what was I afraid of as there was no boogie-boo going to get me. When I declined again she yelled across the room to my roommate to validate that whether I was or wasn’t constipated or snot stuffed as she called it. Everyone turned around and looked at me and laughed but I just maintained an air of nonchalance.

This was going downhill fast but I was still willing to give it a try. That’s how exterior beauty affects a man on a blind date.

Now I don’t know what exactly was in that bottle of Kick-a-poo joy juice but she was apparently getting tipsy from it.

Next on the agenda was her ‘body art’. She pushed up the sleeves on her sweater and showed me her ‘tats’. Both her arms were covered entirely – no skin showing through at all. She was particularly proud of a full length snake on her left arm with red eyes. She said it was a rendering of a demon she had fought in the desert that reminded her of her success as a warrior. At that time I noticed her arms were very muscular. She obviously worked out. A lot. When she flexed her arm muscles, the snake undulated with precision. She then without warning pulled off her sweater to show me more tats. She was totally covered and she proceeded to name every entity inked on her body. When the other males in the room noticed she had partially disrobed they all cheered and whistled then went right back to their drunken stupors. I sat and listened to story after story related to those tats in that high pitched squeaky Betty Boop voice. Most were way too risqué to mention especially concerning body areas where she was pierced. She then without warning, leaned over and started licking my face telling me she needed to taste my energy. She had a good grip on me that was hard to break as she was so strong

I did manage to disengage her and stop her licking and was able to persuade her to put her sweater back on.

Ah! Perhaps things were turning around … but no …

She asked me if I would like to dance yanking me off the couch and proceeding to execute what looked likesome sort of an ethnic dance performed to appease the gods of yore. Everyone started clapping and cheering and she was wound as tight as a spring. Off went the sweater again. After a feverish display, she jumped up on a table and began yelling:

“I will smite you demons!!! I see you hiding in your *&%$#@^ human shells!”

Then she looked dead at me and told me, “I will smite you first, you *&%$#@^ leader of the damned with your smooth tongue and evil wiles!!! I AM A GOD!”

It had occurred to me just prior to this latest assault that the Universe was presenting me with a challenge but it was now a case of fight or flight.

At that point and before she could finish from dancing the hoochy coo dance of death on the table, I informed my friends I was going leave and would walk the few blocks back to the dorm.

I ran.

Literally.

PS – Yes, this is a true story. Fortunately I was not dissuaded from studying metaphysics and whatever jokes the Universe has in mind for me.

Tippin’ my hat to you!

Holmes