Fish Guy

I noticed fish guy while I was in a bar with my friends one Friday night. He was about 6’ 3” tall with light brown hair and blue eyes.  I noticed him as soon as he walked in but I played it cool

“See that tall guy over there?”  I asked my friends before saying; “He’s mine.”  My friends laughed and said; “Ok weirdo, he’s all yours.” then handed me a drink from the bar.  He looked over at me and I smiled. A few minutes later, I ran my hand through my hair while twisting my neck to see if he was still looking at me, he was.  

We did the whole flirting from across the crowded bar thing for a while and eventually he appeared next to me. 

     “How’s your night going?”  He asked.  I admit his opening line was lame but I didn’t care.     

      “So far so good.”  I replied with a smile. Our intial conversation wasn’t stimulating but he was cute enough for me to want to get to know more him better. 

We started to talk about the weather but within minutes he brought up exotic fish. His eyes twinkled as he talked about the differences between salt and fresh water fish. At first, I thought he was screwing with me.  No one could possibly be as interested in fish like this guy.   I tried to participate in the conversation but I couldn’t.  I just sat in the chair, listened to him talk and sipped on my vodka soda.  I occasionally nodded my head to show him that I was interested. 

I wasn’t excited about this guy but I wasn’t repulsed either.  There had to be more to that pretty face than just fish.  He asked if he could see me again so I gave him my number. 

We met for a drink the following week.  I thought we would talk about something more exciting, we didn’t.  He talked about…you guessed it….exotic fish.

 He talked about all types of fish.  He knew what type of fish could be found in different parts of the world.  He described the corals he snorkeled in and the underwater world he visited while scuba diving. He knew the exact temperature and salt content tanks needed to be for certain fish to thrive. 

   “How do you know all of this stuff?”  I asked. 

    “I clean fish tanks for a living.”  He replied with a smile.

    “Like in a pet store?”  I asked quickly losing interest in him. 

    “No. I own a company that cleans fish tanks in offices and homes.  I also help collectors find the fish they need to complete their tanks.”  He explained which redeemed him.  I agreed to see him again.

On our next date, I was determined to take control of the conversation.  I waited until after we handed our dinner menus back to the server before I asked; “Tell me something about you that doesn’t involve your career?”  

   “I love to golf.  I was a few swings away from being a professional golfer.”  He said with a tone of disappointment.
A little voice in my head begged me not to ask why he never went pro, I wish I listened. 

    “So, what happened?”  I asked which put him back in control of the conversation.
He droned on and on about giving up his dream of being a Pro Golfer.  At one point, during his explanation, he sat quietly.  I stared and patiently waited for him to continue but he didn’t.  The silence was killing me so I did what any other girl would have done, I ordered another drink.  

I called my cousin Rissy a few days after my date.

    “He said he likes golf.”  I told her then explained his missed calling in life. “I’m getting you tickets to a golf tournament in New York, some type of Opening my husband can’t go.  Bring him!”  She suggested.  She really wanted me to give him another shot.

 The only golfer I was familiar with and playing in the tournament was Tiger Woods.  (This was way before his scandal so don’t judge me)  I asked fish guy if we could follow him.  He unenthusiastically agreed which I thought was rude considering I got us the tickets.

Watching Tiger Woods swing his club was poetic.  I wasn’t then nor am I now a big fan of golfers but there is something about watching a Tiger Woods play that impressed me.  Fish guy however, was not impressed.  He critiqued Tiger’s swing and claimed to be a better golfer. 

I turned to him at one point and said; “If you’re so much better than him then tell me why you are standing on this side of the ropes.”  We left shortly after my comment.

The ride back to Connecticut was long and quite.  I apologized a few times in the car but he kept saying; “Don’t worry about it, it’s not a big deal.”  But he continued to give me the silent treatment.  When we were close to his home, he asked if I wanted to get take out.

     “Are you sure? Aren’t you upset with me?”  I asked him still feeling bad.

     “No, I’m not mad. Just hungry.”  He said which made me feel better.

 We picked up Italian and went back to his condo.  I hadn’t been over to his place yet but I assumed he had a fish tank.  I was right; it took over most of his living room.
He situated our seats so we were facing it then dimmed the lights.  It was kind of romantic.

 While eating dinner, he described the different types of fish he had.  Still feeling bad about my comment at the tournament, I asked him a bunch of ocean question.  He gladly answered them. Things were looking better.

I listened closely about his adventures in building his fish collection.  At one point, I noticed that my soda was warm.  I wanted ice for my drink so I asked if I could get some out of the freezer.  I stood up and picked up my glass from the coffee table.  Fish guy became visibly nervous as I walked towards the kitchen. 

 He started to stutter and then explained how attached he becomes with his fish as he followed me into the kitchen. 

     “You have to understand, I really get attached to these fish.  They are like children to me.”  He said with a combination of sincerity and a tone of awkwardness in his voice. 

     “Ok, so you get attached to fish.  Why are you telling me this?”  I asked. 

He gasped before yelling out; “I just want to prepare you for what you’re about to see!”

My right hand was on the handle of the freezer door as I turned to him and asked; “Tell me fish guy, what am I about to see?” 

     He didn’t answer me.  Instead, he placed his hand close to mine on the handle and opened the door with me.  I slowly turned back to the freezer and looked in.  I was horrified.

There, in individual clear plastic bags was what seemed like hundreds of brightly-colored dead fish eyes staring vacantly back at me.  

     “What the fuck?!  Do you really have dead fish in your freezer?!”  I asked while backing away quickly and searched for an emergency exit. 

     “You don’t understand, I love these fish and when they die, I just can’t part with them.”  He said trying desperately to make his words sound normal but there was no way that he could.  

     “I’m sorry. This is a little too much for me.  It’s been a long day.  I’m going home now.”  I said as I picked up my jacket and bag. 

     “I don’t understand why you have to leave. Is it the fish thing?  You’ll get used to it, I promise.”  He pleaded. 

    “No, it’s not the dead fish thing.” I replied, obviously I lied.  “It’s been a long day and I’m tired.  Besides, I just ended a long term relationship.  I’ll need some time to ease into another one.”  I said.  I’m not sure where that explanation came from but it sounded good. 

    “Wait a minute” he replied, “who said anything about a relationship?  We’ve only gone out a few times.  We are nowhere near the relationship stage” He said with that irritating laugh thing guys do when they are saying something that makes them uncomfortable.

     “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant.  I’m aware that we’ve only been on a few dates.  I…I…I just have to go,” I stammered as I bolted out the front door. 

While I drove away, it hit me: The fish guy was going to think that HE had dumped ME!  Part of me wanted to drive back to his condo to clarify who dumped who but the voice in my head screamed “RUN AND DON’T LOOK BACK!”  That’s just what I did.