| Good, Bad, Ugly Dating Moments
I dont know if this thread has been done
If it has, dont care
Post yours, we all got some
Heres mine
One time I had a blind "date".
I met her on the internet.
I had nothing to do that night so fuck it
I met her on the fucking internet.
She sent me a photo.
This was a while ago, before we all knew about "the angles"
She was cute enough in that photo.
If I had that photo in my hand I still wouldn't have been able to pick her in a police line-up.
After a few weeks of correspondence she invited me to a movie with her and a group of her friends.
I figured it would be safe enough.
If she is cute then it will be an ok first date type situation.
If she turns out to not be cute, then it's not like its a date or anything.
But she's gonna be cute right?
I mean, I SAW her photo.
She told me that she would pick me up at my apartment.
She drove an SUV and would be picking up a few people on the way.
I've always been the impatient type.
If you're "on the way", I'm watching out the window for your arrival.
If I'm not quite ready, I rush whatever I'm doing and keep going back to the window to check.
More often than not making me all nervous and sweaty until I finally stop pacing and sit.
Depending on the person I might be sitting there waiting for a long while.
So in anticipation of a large black vehicle, I barely pay attention the the motorcycle pulling into the driveway.
Naturally assuming that this was a friend of someone else in the building.
Then the helmet came off.
The scarecrow hair that fell out of it ALMOST distracted me from the fact that she was a very large woman.
Not large in the "amazon woman" way, large in the "grew outward once she was done growing upward" way.
She can't possibly be the girl coming to get me.......right?
She HAS to be a guest of someone else who lives here.
She-kinda-looks-like-the-photo-----kinda.
Oh, man what if?
My options flashed in rapid succession.
Jump out the bathroom window.
Jump out the front window as she ascended the stairs.
Simply ignore the door...
Then the doorbell rang and overwhelming fear gripped me.
...or man-up and open it.
When I swung the door open, she barely even managed to say hello before asking "Where'sthebathroom??"
All one word.
And she followed my outstretched hand "Thataway."
All one word.
My friend stared at me wide-eyed from across the room.
Giving that look that says "holywhatthefuck??" all one word
While simultaneously emoting that I was in fact fucked.
Perhaps she thinks I am disgusting and hurried to the bathroom to discreetly phone a friend to help her get out of our "date".
If I were uglier or she was prettier that may have been a viable option.
Maybe just maybe she drank a large beverage before she left her house.
She didn't seem like the type to need to "freshen up".
Too fat to be a drug addict.
The only other theory left was that she was devastating my toilet.
And with the great amount of time she was spending in there I was pretty convinced that was the case.
So after about 12 minutes she emerged looking more sweaty and disheveled than when she arrived.
As she pulled the door shut behind her I prayed that she had opened the window.
I have no idea what she was doing in there, and I certainly didn't stick around to find out.
We exchanged pleasantries on the way down the stairs.
I can't remember what was said exactly.
She could have been telling me classified government info for all i know.
What I do know is that I was trying to think of ANY possible way out.
I almost feigned an upset stomach.
But then I remembered what might have just occurred in the bathroom.
Whether or not she actually had another vehicle or not I will never know.
Perhaps it was her plan all along to get me on her motorcycle.
It appeared she had thought ahead and dug a helmet out of her garden for me.
I've never seen anything so dirty and cobweb-lined before.
As she handed it to me she noticed its condition.
She then offered me her helmet.
Once in my hand I could see the moisture inside.
She had sweated it up quite nicely on the ride over.
It was a quite a bit more revolting than the cobwebs.
I'm not even sure which one I actually ended up wearing.
I can't believe I wore either of them.
Especially considering I am the type of guy who opens doors with my shirtsleeve.
Not just bathroom doors, every door.
I don't know WHY I went along with it.
I am painfully nice, or too much of a coward to say no perhaps.
So I climbed onto her motorcycle.
On the back of a bike with a girl EASILY three times larger than me.
She operated the motorcycle as if she had stolen in on her way over.
With my hands gripping the smallest portion of her sweatshirt I prayed she wouldn't crash.
At the same time I hoped that if she did in fact crash and I were to die,
"Please, oh please, God, please make my helmet fall off and let me slip down a sewer, PLEASE."
God forbid any of my friends back home find out I died as a passenger on a fat girls motorcycle.
If we crashed and I didn't die, I would have dragged my body as far away as possible.
At every stop light I hid my head in shame,
KNOWING just how fucking ridiculous I must have looked.
Never in my life have I wanted to be invisible as much as I did then.
When we arrived at the movie theater I was introduced to her friends.
Most easily described as "band geeks"; loud obnoxious awkward folk.
Comments that she was robbing the cradle were made by her coven of dork friends.
The fact that I was 19 and she was 23 seemed scandalous to them for some retarded reason.
We watched that horrible witch movie that was popular at the time.
Her attempts to squeeze close to me during the scary parts were comical at best.
Especially considering quite a bit of her meat was climbing over the arm rest already.
When the movie was over there was talk of eating at Denny's.
Not terribly shocking.
I opted to go home.
This decision elicited "oohs" from the slob army.
They were implying I wanted some alone time with their friend.
I wanted to go home and pretend that night never happened.
The ride home was as frightening as the ride to the movies.
The darkness of night provided more opportunity for her to crash and kill me.
It also kept my face hidden from onlookers thankfully.
They didn't have to see the shame in my eyes.
And I didn't have to see the pity in theirs.
The laughs that I'm sure were directed towards me went unheard.
When we arrived at my house I had hoped to hop off and sprint towards my door.
But the ignition turned off.
My helmet came off.
With some struggle her helmet came off.
She thanked me for the movie and asked if she could come up for coffee.
I awkwardly said something about not drinking coffee and that I had to wake up early.
As she reached for me for a kiss goodnight, I was wishing I could tell her I had a herpe bubble on my lip.
Instead I chickened out and gave her the handshake hug.
I figured keeping an arm between us was a sure sign that I wasn't interested.
Then I half-ran back up to my apartment and my friend and I laughed for hours at my own expense.
__________________
, |