The face licker

I used to go out on a lot of dates.

There were periods of time where I would have 3 or 4 first dates per week. I was internet dating and I figure you just never know from some guy's profile what he'll be like in person, so I'd ask for a meeting if they seemed pretty okay.

One of these was the face licker.

We met at a restaurant near the Queen Mary in Long Beach. I saw him sitting at a table in the bar area, waved, and made my way over. He got up to pull my chair out for me. Well done, fellow.

After about 20 minutes of talking with the date, I came to the decision that he wasn't for me. He was a good boy. He had no history of partying too hard, no penchant for getting into trouble, no tattoos, nothing out of the ordinary.

Obviously, he was not my type.

After a couple of non-alcoholic drinks and an appetizer, I let him know that I had to get back to whatever I was doing for the day (nothing at all). He offered to walk me to my car and since it was a crowded lot in the middle of the day, I accepted. I generally wouldn't let a first date anywhere near me outside of a very public place.

We got to my car, I took out my keys and turned to thank him for meeting me and say goodbye (for good). He asked for a hug. Okay, harmless, right?

So we hug and then he does that thing when I was pulling away- that thing that guys do when they're about to kiss a girl after a hug. He held me at half an arm's distance and bent his head toward mine for a kiss.

I reacted quickly and turned my head to the side. It was all I could come up with on short notice. He, apparently, thinks pretty quickly as well.

When I turned my head, he continued his descent toward my face and landed on my cheek. And licked it.

He. Licked. My. Cheek.

A lot.

Gross.

So I backed away, said goodbye, drove out of the parking lot and to the nearest gas station to use the bathroom sink to wash that off.

That was just wrong.