Monday, October 6, 2008

The Mitch File - It All Ends With Sage and a Little Bit of Soul

Here is the third and final installment of my bizarre relationship with Mitch.

Even after the lizard pooping incident, I continued to date Mitch. I was an idiot. But, I really wanted to see if this guy was worth it.

A month had passed but we were seeing less of each other. He was busy with work and we just hadn't been able to get out. Truthfully, I had been happy with the break. He was a little intense.

But, it was Mitch's 30th birthday and to celebrate this important milestone he had decided to throw himself a little party at a small restaurant with a few close friends. I was invited too. I pulled out the LBD (little black dress), tarted myself up and threw on a dressy blazer to complete the look. I looked sassy and sexy. I loved that outfit.

Mitch and I had planned to go over together so I drove to his apartment to meet him. I knocked on the door and struck a saucy pose in my fabulous outfit. The door opened and I was greeted by my date, dressed up to the Geronimo.

Mitch had told me he was really into Native American culture. He attended the sweat lodges put on by a local Native American tribe and the chief of that particular tribe was planning to attend the party this evening.

Here he was dress up in full Native American garb. He was wearing a fringed leather jacket complete with beads and embroidery. He had on leather pants and moccasins.

I was horrified. What was a preppy white boy dressing up like he was going to pow wow.

He saw the shocked look on my face and took it for surprise.

"Do you like my outfit? It's genuine" he said. He was preening like a peacock in front of the mirror, straightening out the fringe.

I didn't know what to say to him. Except that I didn't know if I would be able to go out in public with him. Here I was dressed for a cocktail party and he was ready to ride the Missouri River with Lewis and Clark.

"You....look....great. It's very creative" What the hell else was I going to say. He looked ridiculous!

We arrived at the party before everyone else. Mitch wanted to be early and check out the set up. Did I mention that this restaurant is owned and operated by a cult? The food is amazing, but they will leave you with religious pamphlets and often invite you to their commune to hear talks. They're not pushy, but it's a very weird experience. It's worth it for the food.

So here I was, walking into the Jesus freak restaurant with He Who Walks With Lizard. How could it get any stranger!?!?

The meal was wonderful and the guests were eccentric but nice. The Chief (who was dressed in street clothes) was fascinating to talk to. The others were hippish and a bit odd. The conversations were very political with brief sprinklings of new age.

After the dinner was over and Mitch blew out his candles, we were all invited up to the 2nd floor. This was the gift shop part of the restaurant where they sold creams, candles and other whatnots. I was always afraid to buy something cause it might have some sort of weird drug in it and the next thing you knew, I would be wearing homespun and chanting.

Mitch asked us to form a circle and hold hands. I was a bit apprehensive. If he had us start singing Kumbyya I didn't know what I would do. And besides, I don'tknow that words.

He had the Chief say a few words. I don't remember what they were about because I was distracted by the sweaty hand that was holding mine. EWW! Then, Mitch asked each one of us to give him some wisdom for the coming year.


I am not an "on the spot" kind of person. If I have to say something, especially in front of people, I need time to prepare. Coming up with clever advise in 1 minute or less was not a skill I possess. Of course, the panic coursing through my body gave me an immediate mental block.

When my turn finally came, I freaked out and did what I always do when a dozen people are staring at me, waiting for me to say something and I am unprepared.

I started giggling.

The giggling turned into full blown laughter which makes me snort. In between the snorts and giggles, I mumbled something about "living life to its fullest". It was the only tag line I could remember. Coincidentally, it was the pick up line I used in my ad that snared Mitch.

The rest of the guests finished after giving inspiring and thoughtful advice. I was busy wiping the tears of laughter off my face and Mitch was glaring at me across the room.

Then, we were all led up a flight of stairs to the roof of the restaurant. If we were having a mass suicide of the roof top, I was ready after my humiliating snort fest. But, it was more spiritual bonding.

We were to be smudged.

Some weird lady was waiting for us with a bundle of burning sage. We were to line up and she would slowly cleanse us all of evil and the bad vibes. Everyone was really into it. Everyone accept me. I am violently allergic to all of those incense burning sticks. Every time I walk into a head shop, my nose fills up with snot and I start sneezing in fits.

The smudging was no different.

The smudger was two people away from me when the smoke hit my nose like the smell of skunk hits you as you're driving with the windows open on a hot summers day. I choked on an inhaled breath, made a loud gagging sound and started sneezing uncontrollably. People were staring at me, most likely thinking I was possessed by the devil and the sage smoke was reacting with my evil. They probably expected my head to rotate and green bile to spew from my mouth.

Instead of bile, snot was all over my face and hands from my violent sneezing spasms minus tissues. I made a hasty break for the bathroom, blew my nose and gulp in some clean, fresh sage-free air.

I exited the bathroom as everyone was coming down from the roof and saying their goodbyes. They all eyed me warily and said their goodbyes with a quick wave and not a handshake. After all, they were smudged free and I was still harboring evil vibes.

Mitch didn't say much on the way home. When we got to his apartment, I decided to apologize.

"Mitch, I'm really sorry I freaked out on the roof. My sinuses can't handle that smoke. You know how I get kinda stuffed up if I come here just after your cleaning lady. I'm also sorry about laughing. I have really bad stage fright. I wish you would have told me about that part. I would have been more prepared"

He looked at me with understanding eyes and gave me a peck on the cheek. "It's okay. You're soul is still very new."

Come Again?

I must have looked totally confused so, he finally explained.

"Your soul is very new to this world. It's not capable of handling the workings of the old world. My soul is old. I am able to benefit from things you cannot"


It was at this very moment that I decided that no matter how cute, successful, smart and fun Mitch was, he was too much of a freak for me to deal with. I would not be able to handle a lifetime of soul experiences, smudging, scaly shitty reptiles, force field sex and fringed clothing.

Not wanting to dump him on his birthday and really needing to get out of there, I blamed my evil sinuses and went home. A few days later, after not returning Mitch's 3 messages, I finally called him back. I told him that things were moving too fast for me and I thought that we should take a break (yup, that line still worked back then). He understood and told me that he thought our "souls" would never be completely meshed, mine being so "new" and all. He bid me good luck in life and said goodbye.

Thus concludes my month long trip into freakdom. Who knows where Mitch is now. I'm sure that he's found someone to smudge with, to hang with his nasty lizard, who likes boxer sex and whose soul can handle a guy who dresses like he's one of the Village People.


  1. Mitch is a complete freak. Honestly, how did you last a month??

  2. Honey, I would have seen that fringe and ran as fast as my sexy little shoes would have taken me. Hell, I'd have kicked them off and ran barefoot down the street.

    Actually, I would have been gone after the forcefield sex. You were young, though, and you got three blog posts out of the weirdo!

  3. This definately is the weirdest ex story I've ever heard. It's wonder you came through it unscathed.

  4. Daddyfiles: I have a huge tolerence level. And I was incredibly stupid!

    Lola: I was young and stupid. Thank God I have grown up and begun using my brain.

    BadAss: I still freak out a bit when I see iquana's and the smell of burning sage makes me want to puke.

  5. Heather: What a dreamboat, huh! LOL! Truthfully, I have no idea where he is. His apartment is actually down the street from my office. I don't know if he still lives there, but I do that full body shudder everytime I go by and happen to glance in that direction. I'm sure that icky lizard it still there.

  6. I seriously think you may have been punked. This so beats out any blind date stories or set up stories I've ever heard. You are a saint for keeping him for so long. Everything happens in this life for a reason. Meeting Mitch gave you the best blog story ever!!

  7. Jenboglass: It makes for the best story! I'm hoping it will be a cautionary tale for those who may see the early warning signs of "freakdom" and will get out before they have phobia's of iguana's and sage!

  8. It may or may not beat my story about meeting a girl while blackout drunk at a bar in Allston. Apparently I gave her my phone number and she called the next day talking about how fun it was to hang out. I had no clue but she sounded cute so I pretended like all was well.

    So we made a date to meet up in a week, and we also talked on the phone every single night. Well the night before the date, the conversation went to a suspicious place.

    "I really like talking to you Aaron, I feel like I can tell you anything."

    "Thanks, I'm glad."

    "So I have something I want to tell you about me before our date. Something about me...physically."

    Immediately I started thinking the worst. Was she horribly deformed? One leg shorter than the other? Did she have a penis?

    As I braced for the worst, I was hit with the unexpected.

    "I only have one eye," she said.

    I was stunned and searching desperately for the right words. So I told her I didn't remember her with just one eye (hell, I didn't remember her at all!) and she explained that she was born with only one eye, and the other eye is a glass eye. She said it's really lifelike and people really don't notice or have a problem with it.

    Except for her college roommate.

    I had recovered from the shock at this point and so I asked if her college roommate was just a mean, insensitive bitch. Then she hit me with it...

    "No, but she had a problem watching me take out my eye when I had to clean it at night."

    All I could think of was this one-eyed chick hitting herself in the back of the head really hard at night to pop her eye out. Then cleaning it with a hanky and putting it in a glass of water by her bedstand.

    I went on the date and she was really nice, but the relationship was doomed from the start because of the jokes that could not be passed up.

    I told my friends I was going on a blind date. Literally.

    They told me they heard this girl really has her eye on me.

    And then, my friend Alex came up with the nickname:


    So you may have gotten shit on by an iguana, but have you ever dated someone who's missing pivotal body parts?!?

  9. Daddy: Gross, but I think I still win. Glass eye or not, I dated Geronimo. Not to be beat.

  10. Farewell Mitch and the Ex Files, you will be missed!