h2>Dating : Jay Dating — “The Ice Queen”
The story about the Olympic skater who was setting me up.
This story is one of the most baffling dates I’ve ever had. I had just turned forty-five when I started communicating with Rita on a dating app. She was late-twenties, petite, with dark hair and green eyes. From her profile, she looked like she was in great shape. One of her pictures was of her figure skating in front of a large arena, which made meeting her very intriguing.
Before she and I met in person, we had been texting for a couple of weeks so I got to learn a little bit about her. She was a former Hungarian, Olympic Skater who blew out her knee and had to retire. For a while, she was living in the burbs with a boyfriend but they recently broke up and she moved back to the city. A few Google searches confirmed the Olympic Skater facet to be true.
It was a balmy day in August when we were finally going to meet. She suggested a venue on the Lower East Side. She had a hard-out time because she had plans to meet up with some friends at 7:30 but the idea was for us to meet at 6:00 and chat for a few.
I showed up on time and took a seat at the bar waiting for Rita, who was running fashionable late. The venue was tiny. There was a small bar that hosted four seats and there were a couple of couches a few feet away near the door. At full capacity, twenty people in this place would have caused the Fire Marshal to shut things down. At the bar, I sat next to a middle age dude who was a liquor rep, trying to get the bar to carry more of his brand of bourbon. Carl was his name. We chatted for a bit and he even had them pour me a free glass to test his stuff out while I waited for my date.
Finally, when Rita arrived, she looked fantastic, just like the pictures. I offered her the seat next to me at the bar but she preferred that we sit on the couches near the door. So, I obliged. Once on the couch, she sat next to me and crossed her shapely legs which I was able to see through the slit of her loose, flowing dress. She definitely had the legs of a figure skater with the addition of a nasty scar around her knee. That aside, this girl was a knockout.
It didn’t take long for her to open up. First, she told me about her skating career, competing in the Olympics and the devastating knee injury that ended her career. Then we spoke about how she wound up living in New York.
“I told you that I used to live in New Jersey with my ex-boyfriend,” she said with a hint of a European accent.
“You did mention that.”
“Well, I was actually engaged to him.”
“Oh, alright. I was actually married once, so I know what that’s all about.”
“Well, I found out he was cheating on me,” she said
“Ooh, I know all about that too, sorry.”
“You would think after being with someone for three years, you would know them. But it turned out that he fathered five different babies with five different strippers.”
“What?” I exclaimed.
“Yeah, a got a call one day from one of the moms and she told me there were a bunch of others who had children with him as well, all strippers. Apparently, he was going to strip clubs all the time and I had no idea.”
“Holy cow! That’s crazy.”
“I know, it was devastating. And he had a huge drug problem. He was a Plastic Surgeon with a thriving practice but he used to take all the pain killer samples from the practice. His partner called the police on him.”
“His partner put him in Jail?” I questioned in amazement.
“Well, he had to go to court a lot and got his license suspended but he didn’t serve time. In the meanwhile, his partner started hitting on me and kept showing up at my place unannounced at night.”
“What did you do?”
“I had to get a restraining order against him.”
“Wow! That’s nuts!”
She continued on with details about her tumultuous engagement until she looked down at her phone and noticed a text message.
“Hey I have to meet up with those friends I was telling you about,” she said, “but I would really like for us to do this again when we have more time, I think you’re great.” She gave me a big hug and just like that she headed on her way.
The smell of her intoxicating perfume was adding to the effect of the three Jacks that were already in my system and and her quick exit left me having to pay the bill, so I went to the bar to close my tab. Carl was still there.
“Pretty girl you were with,” he said.
“Yeah, I guess it was worth the wait after all.”
“Well, the guy that was sitting next to me after you left, thought so too.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“He kept pointing over to the two of you and saying, ‘I’m going to take this guy’s girlfriend.”
“Really?”
“He said, ‘watch this, I’m going to go over there and take this guy’s girlfriend right away from him.”
“Humm.”
“Yeah, but he kept talking about his girlfriend and texting her the whole time. He said that she’s Hungarian.
“That’s weird, the girl I was out with was Hungarian,” I said.
“A professional Figure Skater.”
My head started to buzz. “What?”
“Yeah, he said that his girlfriend was a professional figure skater from Hungary.”
“Wait a minute! The girl I was with was a professional Figure Skater from Hungary!” I said in disbelief.
Karl and I stared at each other for a moment and at first, I thought he was putting me on but I can tell he was thinking the same exact thing.
“What’s going on right now?” I asked him.
“I’m not sure,” he said, “The second you went over to the couch, the guy walked in and took your seat and he left right before you came over.”
“Was he following her?”
“I have no idea,” he said. This is all very weird.”
“Welcome to my world,” I said to him. “I’m not sure what to do. She told me some crazy stories about her ex-boyfriend. Maybe he’s following her. I should call her,” I gathered.
“Yeah, maybe you should,” he assured.
I gave Rita a call and she answered right away. “Hey, is everything okay?” she asked.
“Listen, this is kind of weird, but there was a guy at the bar who was telling this other guy about his girlfriend that is a Hungarian figure skater. And it sounds just like you. We’re trying to figure out what’s going on.”
There was momentary silence and then she spoke. “I have a stalker.”
“You have a stalker?”
“Yeah, it’s a problem, I have to go.” she abruptly said.
“Are you alright?” I asked
“Yeah, I have to go though.”
And those were the last words I ever heard from her. I reached out a few days later to make sure she was alright but there was no reply. I often replay that encounter in my head. Why would she go through that whole elaborate story? What were they looking for? I’m pretty convinced I was either being setup for something or they were a kinky couple who got off on watching each other on dates. Or maybe they were looking for a threesome, but if that were the case, I’m insulted that they didn’t even ask.