A drink at a beach bar and a moonlit walk on the beach. Sounds like an ideal first date, doesn’t it?
Met a guy from my town online years ago — and we met for a first date at a well-known bar near the local beach. We sat and had one drink, then he suggested going for a walk on the beach.
It was a warm night and things had gone fine up til then, so we walked a block over to the beach and took off along the shoreline.
Let’s just say that mild-mannered Dr. Jekkyl turned into evil Mr. Hyde pretty quickly, once we were out of sight of anyone else. He was very, very… aggressive.
He was a big guy, we were on a secluded beach, and it was scary. I’d been there hundreds of times during the day and there were always people around; had no idea how isolated it was after dark. I couldn’t see the pathways back to the street and the houses were way back from the beach.
But fending him off was only part of the horror of the evening.
At one point, a picturesque log that had washed up on the sand blocked our path along the waterline. He suggested we sit there a while.
I was wearing a short denim skirt and nothing on my legs while we sat and talked. By that time, he was convinced we’d be a serious couple. Realizing how vulnerable I was, I didn’t disagree (until I called him the next day).
By the time we returned to where we began the walk (with my virtue barely intact) and I finally got into my car and drove away, my legs began to itch.
In fact, they itched so badly that I could hardly sleep because I was scratching my legs like a maniac. All. night. long.
In the morning, I looked down and saw hundreds of red dots up and down both legs, like a million bug bites — and my skin was still extremely itchy.
Went to a drug store to consult the pharmacist, and when he saw my legs, he blurted out, “Oh, my goodness!” That wasn’t a good sign…
He sold me over-the-counter anti-itch meds while I continued to scratch miserably. It didn’t help.
I spent another long, sleepless night before finally taking off work and going to a doctor Monday morning. Ended up spending more than $100 for prescription medication and the doctor visit. And I continued to scratch my legs madly for most of that day until the pills finally took effect.
I never found out what was on that log, although some people suggested it could’ve been chiggers.
The expensive and painful lessons I learned on that date (!) were: (1) Never walk on the beach in the dark with a stranger (2) Don’t sit on a log unless a layer of clothes protects your skin from legions of biting insects.
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