Saturday, March 08, 2008

Day Eight: Bad Dates

I stole this idea from Typelittlea, who isn't even doing NaBloPoMo this month...she's just that clever. After you read her stunning example, see the comments for a more salacious instance I am not including here.


1. When I was 16, a guy took me to see Being There, which he described as one of the all-time classics. I was so bored I almost slipped into a coma. I was dressed (adorably, I thought) in an '80s-era Madonna get-up with fingerless gloves, which he made fun of. But the best part was at dinner, when the waitress followed the standard greeting with: "And what would you like to drink? Tall, frosty glasses of milk?" I wanted to gag her with one of my gloves.

2. One guy asked to meet me at a bookstore near the beach, where he proceeded to recite WWI poetry to me, apparently so I could swoon over his elocution. I kept trying to convince him to take a walk on the boardwalk, but he said his shoes hurt. He also confessed that he was "jonesing for some nicotine," which was a real turn-on. Eventually, I saw him groping under a table outside the bookstore, from whence he produced a huge bouquet of roses. "How beautiful!" I exclaimed, and asked if he would walk me to my car so I could drop them off. "But I want you to carry them," he said, wounded. "Why?" (They weighed like 50 pounds.) "Because I want everyone to know we're together."

3. I met this guy at a Hillel "break fast" at UMass and he asked me to meet him at Packard's, a restaurant in Noho. When the waitress came over, I went first and ordered a hot chocolate. He said, "Just water for me, thanks." Then he whispered to me, "I didn't bring any money." He had a huge smile on his face.

4. I tried to suppress my misgivings when I ran into this guy, whom I hadn't seen in a couple years, and he was suddenly speaking in an English accent. He's from San Diego. His English accent was so good, however, that I allowed myself to be lulled into a non-questioning state. We went to see The Full Monty, which I'd already seen, but figured he'd feel a kinship with the film--after all, it's about his people. He seemed distracted and raced to the exit as soon as the credits rolled. On the way home (I was driving) he confessed that he'd spent the day in an apartment that had just been fumigated and wondered if he had some brain damage. Then he launched into a lively tale about the previous evening, which had been such a lark: "I met these two Irish girls at the pub, they crashed at my flat, and I ended up shagging them both in the same evening!" I gripped the wheel and laughed with the merriment of it all.

5. This one guy and I went to see White Men Can't Jump (another pick of mine--this guy was a basketball fan--how could we go wrong?) and by the end, he was sulking. We crossed the street to a diner and I ordered French toast. Apparently, that was my second fatal move of the evening:

Sam: Did you like the movie?

Chris: You know, I really didn't.

Sam: Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you would.

Chris: Well, you thought wrong. Why did you order breakfast at night, just out of curiosity?

Sam: Ummm...I have no idea. I guess I think of diners like casinos--there's no day or night.

Chris: It just seems like an awful lot of food.

Sam: Hmmm. Oh, I just remembered a funny story about French toast. Wait, did I tell you already?

Chris: I'm not sure.

Sam: Well, I'll start, and you can tell me if you've already heard it.

Chris: You better not. If I've already heard it, it will be awkward.

Sam: Well, it will be awkward NOW.

Chris: (expression softening) Sam, I think we both know this isn't working.

Sam: It isn't?

Chris: No. So I suggest we just sit back and enjoy these last few minutes together, and then we don't go out again.

Sam: (rising and throwing some bills on the table, while trying not to hurl) No, let's NOT enjoy these last few minutes together. Okay? Let's NOT do that.

To make it a little more surreal, he ran after me, we had a fight in the parking lot, and it started pouring like a monsoon, so hard that we were both blinded by the water running into our eyes. As he began rattling off the many wonderful qualities about me he would always cherish (and those were his EXACT words) I leaped into my Jeep and peeled out of the parking lot, hydroplaning like a madwoman.


Okay! I think we're about done here. No, I haven't exhausted the bad dates, but I have probably exhausted your attention span.

Here's your puzzler, Readers: Which of these fabulous dates went on to become relationships?

And don't get any ideas: None of these dates were with David. We haven't had any bad dates. ;)


Jennifer said...

Wow! Those are some really good bad date stories! Maybe I'll have to use your idea sometime and post a few of my own. I have the best bad date of all times, not sure I can post it on my site though...It isn't quite G Rated..ha!
As for which ones went on to become relationships....I'll guess 2 and 4. You'll have to fill us in.

Anonymous said...

2,3, and 5...?

Some guy who's name escapes me took me to a Shakespeare play. I literally nodded off several times, this amongst an extremely loud production. I was mortified but glad he suggested we leave at intermission and go listen to live music.

Anonymous said...

I would have to guess 2, just because it's not quite as bad as the others... which were quite spectacularly bad! And very funny! :) xxx lix

Cheri said...

Oh, this is the best post, with the best ending, I mean the no bad dates with David. Perfect. I'm guessing after the hydroplaning in the Jeep you had make-up sex? You had relationships with everyone but number 4. Please don't say 4. Seriously, doesn't my date with Lewis Smith rank up near the top of the bad dates list? The man cut our date short to go impregnate someone after asking me if I thought he should. Can it get any better than that?'