Iguana Guy


While reading this I know you're going to think, "Why in the world did she go out with this guy more than once?" In my own defense, I'll say it was because I found his offbeat personality to be intriguing. "Intriguing personality" -- that's good. An infatuation with iguanas? Not so much

Iguana Guy and I had a fun first date. He wasn't gorgeous, but he was attractive enough, and I thought he was interesting. We made a plan to meet again on a Friday night a few days later. We ended up spending the entire weekend together.

The first sign of strange behavior occurred during that weekend. Back at my apartment, we were doing some mild fooling around. He wanted to go further than I did and I stopped him, explaining that I didn't know him well enough. He said that was understandable.

A few minutes later he seemed very distressed. I sat up and turned on a light. I asked why he was upset? He sobbed, "I... I... touched your flower." I said that was okay. "No, it's not okay. You don't understand me... nobody does... I have to leave...."

"Right now? But it's 2:30 in the morning!"

I tried to reason with him but it was to no avail -- he insisted he had to leave my apartment. On his way out he said, "I have to feel the wind blow through my hair." (He had long hair.)

"Alright, if you must. You can come back when you feel better."

My doorbell rang an hour or so later. When I opened the door and let him in, he acted as if nothing had happened. We went to sleep, and when we woke up his behavior wasn't discussed, although I certainly hadn't forgotten.

As we spent more time together other bizarre things began to surface, but I was enjoying his company so I didn't focus on them too much. For example, one evening before going out to dinner, he had to stop by a friend's house to pick up his chef's knives that had been stored there temporarily. Afterward, we were sitting at the bar of a restaurant waiting for our table when he asked, "Do you want to see my knives?"

Before I had a chance to answer, he opened his pouch of knives and began to remove this extremely large one, right out in the open. "Um, I don't think this is a good time!" I exclaimed, quickly making him put them away.

And then there was his infatuation with iguanas. When we first met he had four small ones, each about six inches long, housed in an aquarium tank in his bedroom. I'm not the reptile type -- more the soft, fuzzy cat type -- so I didn't get terribly enthused when introduced to his "pets."

One day I arrived at his apartment and he was so excited he could barely contain himself. He told me he had recently seen a pair of iguanas in a nearby pet store that he just had to have. Telling me about these fantabulous iguanas got him even more excited, so much that suddenly he decided he couldn't live without them a moment longer. He grabbed his four small iguanas (they were to be a partial trade -- whatever happened to love and commitment?), and rushed out to the store. I waited in his apartment.

Soon he returned, proudly carrying his two new iguanas. My jaw dropped when I saw them: both were OVER FOUR FEET LONG. I could handle the idea of the little ones, but the four-foot o