I met the PG at a coffee shop near me. We politely shook hands, purchased beverages, and took our seats next to a window. He was very typically cute with strong features tempered by a boyish smile. He spoke softly and eagerly and seemed genuinely pleased to be conversing with me. We quickly got on to the topic of hobbies because I was aware that he had a specific one. That's hardly common where I live. People are far too aloof to have hobbies, especially hobbies that didn't positively contribute to a perceived "cool factor".
Rock collecting was PG's passion. He hiked every weekend and was planning a big trip up North to go scavenging some mountains for un-precious and some semi-precious rocks. He delighted in telling stories of finding rocks on accident or finding gems and interesting patterns inside rocks he'd collected. In the spirit of show-and-tell, PG had brought one such rock. He pulled it out from his pocket and placed it in front of me.
Looking at the outside of the rock, which was shaped like an oval cut in half length-wise it was rough and egg-shell white. Upon turning it over I could see he'd polished the rock to exhibit the intriguing interior. I immediately recognized the shape. It was a slimmer oval shape down the middle with a little nob at the top. It was, unmistakably a vagina. I stared at the rock for a minute trying to gather my thoughts. I looked up at PG searching for clues in his expression. Did he know what this was? Was this some kind of innuendo? He couldn't know. His face gave no hint of guilt or intention. He was completely innocent. So now came the question, should I bring it up? Should I point out the provocative nature of this geode? I chose to not. Instead, I would periodically glance at the stone and try not to giggle.
Naturally, an unintentionally inappropriate mineral is not enough to drive me away from a fella. A complete lack of chemistry and the pain of listening terrible jokes is enough. And PG had plenty of terrible jokes. He would make these puns, these very silly and sophomoric jokes to which I just could not laugh. He would then follow them up by saying something like "I was just joking" to which I could only reply "I know" while trying my hardest to turn my cringe into a smile.
While describing the nature of his job working in a geologically related department for the city, he revealed that he would spend a lot of time underground or crawling around in pipes. I commented that he must get very grimey. He responded "as long as I don't get Leanne Grimes-ey" looking very pleased with himself. I smiled and took a sip of my drink--a technique I'd developed to excuse myself from not laughing. He followed up with "I was just being funny" and it took every ounce of will-power to not say "no you weren't".
Even PG's terrible jokes may have been tolerable, but his intrusion on my personal space was unforgivable. At some point during the date, probably towards the middle PG must have noticed me fiddling with my hair--something I absent-mindedly do throughout the day. He decided this would be the ideal time to inform me about his hair fetish. I promptly got out a hair tie and put my hair up and out of the way in a pony tail. That is far more information than I need when the conversation has remained platonic and very G-rated. There was no flirtation that may indicate I would be open to hearing about his sexual fetishes. Even after that I could have left and still thought fondly of this fella. However, upon saying goodbye he requested a hug and with a twinkle in his eye PG proceeded to run his fingers through my hair. Whoa! Knowing what effect this may have on him (because of his own admission) I felt incredibly uncomfortable and slightly violated.
In the end PG may have been kind of awkward, but it was our lack of compatibility that helped me decide not to pursue anything further with him. He may have been cute and sweet but I don't think I could listen to anymore of those jokes or find out what other kinds of rocks he had stashed away. Also, feeding his fetish without my permission was too far over the line.