KUFO - Sometimes you just have to throw your dice in a barrel

Sometimes you just have to throw your dice in a barrel

I went on the worst date of my life on Friday. It's probably the worst date of anyone I know. And probably worse than any date you have ever been on. This is speculation, of course, so please email me if I am wrong.

I gave a lucky guy my digits at a random hipster part in North Portland after being fueled by a 4-pack of SPARKS. A couple weeks later, he calls and we plan on attending my friend's BBQ and then downtown to see a show at Dante's. He picks me up and we start our evening. The first topic of conversation is that he is in "diversion". It turns out he got a DUI back in March, which means now that he is in diversion, he can't drink for the next 4.5 months. You may or may not know, I am not a big drinker, so it didn't pose a huge road block for me and our evening. However, it became painfully obvious that he was in serious need of some social lubricant later in the evening.

The BBQ was fun and uneventful on the date realm. We arrive at Dante's and as soon as we walk in, he is immediately agitated. It's "too loud". Yea, we're at a club watching a rock band... it has a tendency to be loud. So I grab up some sodas and say hi to the acquaintance that got us the tickets. I think we made it two songs before he asked if we could step outside. He said he was getting really anxious, because it was so loud and he couldn't drink and it was smoky. Okaaaaaay. We kick it at the tables outside of Dante's and the conversation goes from normal to bizarre very quickly. One of the standout dialogues is below.

Me: So how old are you Owen?
Owen: 27
Me: Ok, cool.
Owen: How old are you?
Me: (trying to be coy and cute) How old do you think I am?
Owen:19?
Me: Ahhh, are you serious? I mean, you just saw me get into a bar.... You're kidding, right?
Owen: Oh, I just thought you had a fake ID.
Me: ......

Lots of things about that exchange weird me out. But mostly that if he thought I was 8 years his junior, why the f*ck would he want to go out with me? And really, you think I am 19, after you just had a conversation where you found out I have my bachelor’s degree? Other things I found out were that he "just does some stuff" for his job at a winery, he is an "amazing" musician (so much so that his guitar teacher would extend his 1/2 hour lessens to 3 hours, just so they could "jam"), his dream is to open a hostel or a record label, he still lives with his folks, and he "doesn't really like rock music." I should have left right then. I mean, "rock" covers such a vast genre from Black Sabbath to Damion Rice to Block Party to Paramore. You don't like any of it?

Fast forward thru awkwardly dancing to hip-hop at the Tube and going back to Dante's to sit outside again and we're back in his car a little after midnight. He decides he wants to play me some music and asks if I have a guitar at the house. We have a couple, but none are mine, so I say that. He says he'll 'swing by' his parent's and grab his. We prompt get on the HIGHWAY like we're heading to Beaverton. We take the exit to the Zoo and go to this fancy pants house. His basement has, what I would estimate at $4,000+ of musical equipment. Nice set of decks, mixing board and 6 or 7 guitars. This is just screaming poor little rich kid syndrome to me.

He grabs a guitar, we go to my house and this is when the date really starts to go downhill. He sits in my living room and proceeds to serenade me. Ok, it's high school, but whatever... until he starts into Bob Dylan's "The Hurricane". What is that, like a 9 minute song?!? So his guitar skills are marginal. He can play, but nothing like what he was talking himself up to be. This is where the bottom falls out. He starts to sing and I have to bite the inside of my mouth to keep from laughing. I have a ton of tone deaf friends who try and sing and whatever.... but this was terrifying. It was kind of breathy and really slurred and sounded like someone who was drunk and foreign trying to do an impression of Ben Harper. Also while he sang, he made this awful face where it was like he was singing out of the lower side of his mouth. The description of this won't do it justice, but for an idea it kinda looked like this.

So he sings. And I nod and try not to laugh. We talk for a little while longer and my roommates come home and he asks if we can go upstairs so he can play me some more music. Against my better judgment, we go upstairs and he sings me four more songs. And intermittently rambles nonsense which culminates with him wanting to have a recording studio with me. And then most bizarre conversation I have ever had, takes place:

Owen: You know, sometimes you just have to throw your dice in a barrel.
Me: wha....? I don't know what you mean.
Owen: Ya know. Like beans in a barrel. Bringing it to a boil.
Me: Oh. I thought you said "DICE" in a barrel. Not rice... (not that I really understood that either)
Owen: Oh, no. I DID say dice.
Me: Dude. What the fuck does that mean? That makes no sense.

Then for about 10 minutes, he tried to explain what he was talking about. He dared me to come up with a better analogy, but I was confused as to what it was even supposed to be about... I suggested "Building a solid foundation before you build your house", but he assured me that was all wrong. Finally, he said, "Yahtzee. Like that."
And that was his explanation.

At this point, it was close to 3am, we had spent 6.5 HOURS together and I was trying to get him to leave. I ended up just saying, "Look, I have to work in 8 hours, you need to go." So I walked out to his car with him and punched him in the shoulder while saying "Hey, how 'bout you work on that music stuff and maybe we'll meet up again." To which he promised he would call me soon. Not exactly the response I was expecting.

Also, my roommates think he looks like a Muppet. And because it's such great story telling fodder, they think I should go out with him again.