Moose on the Loose

5 Jun

About a week and a half ago, I went out with a ripe giant.  I had been interested in meeting “Brandon” because his profile said he was 6’3”, in law school, and into a lot of good bands.  I have nothing against ripe giants, in fact, I have even been known to like them.  The only way I can describe him is a show I once watched on Animal Planet called “Moose on the Loose.”

Earlier in the day, I had texted Brandon to confirm our plans that night.  He texted back asking me to call him by 8:30pm to make sure he was awake.  Uh oh.  We were meeting at a dive bar in the Lower East Side.  I decided that I was tired of the outfit I was wearing that day, so, after work, I stopped by a store on the way to the bar and bought a new one.  I made an additional stop for a quick slice before getting into a cab.  En route, I ate my pizza and changed my clothes in the backseat, while the driver made some “ahem” sounds.

All of my pit stops aside, I arrived at the bar about twenty minutes early and texted him “The eagle has landed.”  He texted me back apologizing for making me wait (whatever, I was early) and said he would be right there.  When he arrived, he looked like he had just run through a tunnel of hornets during a rainstorm because he was drenched in sweat.  He sat down next to me at the bar, splaying his long limbs out in an attempt to cool off.  It was then that I noticed that his fly was gaping open, revealing his cotton-covered weiner bundle peeking out like a mole emerging from it’s mole hole.  I couldn’t look him in the eye because I knew I would look at his crotch and start laughing.  It took all I had to keep a straight face while listening to him talk about how his exams were going and some bands he thought I should check out.

He was very squirmy… He never fully sat still and was always combing his fingers through his beard or pulling on his blonde curls.  I told him I liked the bar he had selected and commented on a Ken doll that was posed sexually over some liquor bottles behind the bar.  He replied “I can make that pose for you later, if you play your cards right.”  I could feel his bull knuckle winking at me.  We went over our favorite Beatles covers (an important topic).  He chose the Blood, Sweat, and Tears version of “Got to Get You into My Life” and The Breeders “Happiness is a Warm Gun.”  I countered him with Nancy Sinatra “Run For Your Life” and Bryan Ferry “You Won’t See Me.”

Eventually, he went to the bathroom and returned with his pants fully zipped.  Whew.  After that, he described his worst OKCupid date to me and he definitely had the best one I’ve heard so far.  Apparently he took this girl to a concert on their first date and, after mentioning that she had forgotten to take her bipolar meds, she disappeared for almost an hour.  When she materialized, she was incredibly drunk and asked him to take her back to his place.  Once there, she got into a screaming fight with her mom on the phone, who was allegedly threatening to send the police over to Brandon’s apartment to pick her up and arrest him for kidnapping.  Way better than the usual OKCupid horror stories I hear from guys which are more along the lines of “She wouldn’t stop calling me,” “She said she was 27, but ended up being 50,” or “She asked me to do heroin with her.”

Throughout the conversation, he had been moving closer and closer to me and began awkwardly pawing at my leg and my back.  He was still sweating profusely and, at one point, the jolly butch bartender came over with a fan and aimed it directly at him, giving me the thumbs up.  He looked like a dog hanging its head out of a car window.  He suggested we get some food and said he knew of a good Venezuelan restaurant nearby.  I acquiesced, mainly because I was getting hit by some of the sweat beads that the fan was blowing off him.  We walked about seven blocks and got to the restaurant with five minutes to spare before they closed.  Beard-deep in an arepa, he kept scooting towards me until I was afraid the cheese that was nestled in his facial hair was going to land on my shoulder.  This was turning into a messy endeavor.  I got up to get a glass of water and sat back down on the other side of the booth.  He followed suit and when he sat down (next to me again) he said in a sexy voice “Are you going to make me chase you across this booth?”  I have to admit, the arepa WAS pretty good, but I feared for what was coming next.

Sure enough, once we were outside again, Brandon asked me to come up to his apartment, which he bragged was a 5’ by 9’ room with one window overlooking a wall…and which conveniently was right across the street.  I told him I had yoga in the morning and needed to head home.  I don’t think I even got my full sentence out before he grabbed me and started kissing me aggressively, his sweaty beard smothering my face.  I wanted to say “You stop that this instant, young man!”  But I am really bad at this stuff so I said “Wow, ok.  Yeah, let’s do this again some time.”  I stopped briefly en route to the subway, to watch part of a silent film that was being shown on the side of a building and to collect myself.  I got back to Brooklyn smelling like the sweat of a hundred beards and feeling like I had just gotten arepa’ed.  I washed my face twice that night and promised not to return to the Lower East Side for at least a fortnight.

2 Responses to “Moose on the Loose”


  1. A Rebounder Gets Rebounded « What's in the Box? - December 5, 2012

    […] first met George waaay back in March, the same week I dealt with Judgmental Jonah and Moose on the Loose.  The night we met, I was frazzled and not at all looking forward to the date at hand.  George […]

  2. Where Are They Now? « What's in the Box? - December 26, 2012

    […]  Although a very sweet man, I guess it just wasn’t in the cards for us. Brandon from Moose on the Loose – As it turns out, Brandon also has a blog and likes to read online dating blogs in his […]

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