Bad Date Stories

Sip and See

One of the strangest dates I ever had was not really a date, but it was more like a "sip and see." That's a southern term for a baby shower held when the baby is a month or two old. Friends and relatives come over with gifts and to see the baby. I understand those things are getting very popular now.

The whole point is folks get to see the baby, on display, and I bet there's minimal manhandling of the child.

I could be utterly wrong, of course. I was raised by a dedicated germophobe. I well remember being 10 years old and begging to be allowed to hold my cousin's baby, Lana. Mother made me put on a clean shirt, then push my sleeves up to my armpits, then wash my hands and arms with scalding hot water, scrubbing furiously like a surgeon. Then I had to sit down, and the baby was placed in my lap. I was terrified to touch her. So I always think touching a baby too much without sterilizing yourself first is courting disaster.

But I digress. Which happens a lot.

My "sip and see" experience involved sips of beer and I was the baby.

Anyway, a friend of mine at work, Karen, who was in her 30's kept blathering on and on to me about this adorable cute guy that was a friend of her husband's. She would go on and on about how we were perfect for each other.

"He's in school and you're in school. He's REAL smart," she said, in her very twangy East Tennessee accent. [I was living in Knoxville then.]

Finally, since I couldn't get her to hush, I agreed to go over to her apartment on a Sunday afternoon and meet said dreamboat, whose name was Kyle, I think.

It was a hot summer day, so I wore a little cotten sundress, and put on my makeup carefully. I took some care, just in case I was wrong and the guy was actually a catch. I was in a thin phase, so I was fairly cute myself.

I got over to the apartment and Karen let me in very quietly.

"Eddie and him is in the den watchin' the races. We cain't go in there until the commercial," she whispered.

I peeked in the den and saw her husband Eddie, and just the profile of the dreamboat, both men in Lazy Boy loungers, beers in hand.

Karen and I were reduced to whispering in her spotlessly clean kitchen. I've known people who were cleaning fanatics but not many. Karen was smoking, tipping the askes in a Tab can and blowing the smoke out the window. Otherwise that kitchen was like an operating room, except for the almond colored appliances.

Finally, the commercial came on. I went in the den. Neither man got up or offered to let me sit down, and there were only the two chairs. They said Hi and went back to watching the fascinating TV commercials.

Dreamboat was sorta cute, but he had a little beer belly. His manners was awful. He basically ignored me.  Karen said "Hey Kyle, Dee here's in school, just like you."

Kyle finally looked at me. I decided to jump in and test the water. "I'm in grad school at UT. What are you studying?"

"I'm in school to become a certified technician for heat and air," he said laconically.

OK. Well, those guys probably make a decent living, I thought. We could have us a nice doublewide, eventually.

"You like racing?" Kyle asked.

I allowed as how I'd never watched auto racing. Some remark was made about a driver named "Elliott" and I said the only familiarity I had with that name was TS Eliot, the poet. I just wanted to see his reaction.

He grunted.Then he grinned.  "Never heard of him." Then he turned his attention back to the TV.

The commercials ended and we womenfolk had to retreat to the kitchen. I figured out some way to tell Karen I just didn't think Kyle was interested in me, and I didn't think it was meant to be.

She was terribly disappointed.

I was not.

I left there thinking, someday this will be quite a story.

The Never-Ending Date

When I was in my 20's, my brother was stationed at Ft. MacPherson in Atlanta, and I was living in Knoxville.

One weekend, I came down to Atlanta to stay with my brother and his wife for the weekend. I got in on Friday afternoon. That night, Brother's friend "Dan" [not his real name] came over, to go out to eat with us. He was tall, mostly bald, and wore glasses. My sister in law had told me what a great guy he was.

He wore pants so tight you could tell his religion.

He went out to eat with us. I don't remember the meal, just the Corvette he drove. He drove like a maniac, zooming down I-285, which is a busy 8 lane highway that encircles Atlanta. His Journey Greatest Hits tape was blaring the entire time. I don't like Corvettes. I felt like my butt was dragging the ground. I learned that Dan was heavily into his car - he belonged to a Corvette club. He also was into Civil War re-enactment.

He explained how people who came to re-enactments and used Zippo lighters, or anything else modern, were useless diletteants and deserved to be court-martialed. I thought to myself that being dragged around Atlanta and forced to listen to Journey songs would be enough of a punishment, but I didn't voice that.

After dinner, we went back to my brother's house, and Dan announced it was too far for him to drive home and he was too sleepy. My brother told him firmly he'd have to sleep downstairs on the couch, since I was in the guest room. He stayed.

The next morning, he would not leave. We announced we were going to the zoo. He said he would love it. Off we went to the zoo.

This guy was an officer in the Army, a captain or major, I think. He was college educated. He was articulate. I couldn't stand him.

It was very hot and crowded at the zoo. Dan never left my side., even when I told him the animal poo smells and heat were making me nauseated.

It occurred to me at some point that he looked like Colonel Klink from Hogan's Heroes.

Finally, on Sunday, he left. I had to leave, too. He tried to kiss me. That didn't happen.

I think he wanted to see me again, until he noticed the look of utter revulsion on my face when he tried to kiss me.

My brother said after that weekend, he never liked the guy again, and they had been pretty good friends.

When I got home I wrote my brother and sister in law a note and said, don't ever fix me up with a Colonel Klink lookalike- Corvette-driving-Civil War-re-enacting dork AGAIN.

They said they laughed about that letter for years.

It was very sarcastic.

Weatherman

Here's a funny anecdote form my friend Judy:

My mother once I insisted that I go out with the son of a friend of hers.  When I asked what he looked like, she said, "He has very nice teeth."

He picked me up and my first question to him was"what are you studying?" When he said "meteorology" I said, "Really? How many meteors can there be that you could make a career out of that?" Unfortunately, I was serious. He obviously found my stupidity charming because he pursued me relentlessly until I moved out of the city.

Ape Man

When I was in grad school, I had a neighbor who lived in my building, a high rise for married students or single grad students. I kept seeing him on the campus bus.

He was NOT attractive. He looked like Gene Shalit, with a bushy black halo of hair, and glasses - but not so handsome as Gene. He was so ugly I was intrigued.

We ended up chatting and went out a couple of times.

About the second or third date it was Easter weekend, and I asked him to come out and meet my parents, who lived on the lake near Knoxville. He was nervous because it was Easter and he was Jewish. I assured him we wouldn't pray or do anything religious.We're Episcopalian, so we didn't get real demonstrative about ANYTHING religious anyway. He was still nervous.

I had grown quite fond of him, and was wondering if he was a Possible Mr. Right. After half an hour with my parents I realized the error of my ways.

Don't get me wrong - my parents were very nice to him. HE was a social idiot. Mom asked him what his father did for a living. He sold some product, was all he could say. A bee flew by as we were sitting outside and he freaked out and screamed like a girl. When we went inside for lunch, he never put his napkin in his lap, and held his fork oddly.

I still thought we could be friends.

Our next date, we went to play tennis. I was never a skinny little thing, but I was not obese, and I liked playing tennis. He told me he had dated a lot of fat chicks - looking at me meaningfully as he said it.

OK, strike three you're out, buddy.

A week or so later I knocked on his door. He had a cassette tape of mine and I wanted it back. He answered the door wearing nothing but a tiny pair of gym shorts. Clouds of pot smoke billowed out of the apartment. I grabbed the tape and fled. He had looked like an ape on fire.

Good riddance...

I later heard he was sued for sexual harassment.

Welcome To The Nightmare

Like a lot of women, I have never married. I am a spinster. I spent twenty years in the dating pool, first as an adorable twenty something, then as an increasingly bitter and desperate thirty-something. Finally, at 41 I decided to just build my family through adoption and quit the nightmare called dating, after the last hideously painful breakup.I am much happier now, with my little family.

The bad dates are simply painful memories.

Pain teaches us lessons.

Sometimes we can laugh at our pain.

I was talking to several ladies I work with yesterday, all of us single, and we started swapping bad date stories. After only a short time in the dating world, the stories happen, unfortunately. So I thought, why not create a blog and discuss the pain in a humorous way?!?

I welcome comments and if you want to send me your own bad date stories, great. I ask simply that you not use anyone's real name [I don't want to get sued] and you don't use profanity.If I think your story is funny I will publish it. [thompsondee@bellsouth.net]

I welcome bad date stories from guys. Women seem to tell these stories more than men, but I am all for hearing guys' stories. We need to know all sides.

 

For my first bad date story I am going to borrow from my mother and tell a senior dating story.

My dad died in 1996. Mom had never dated after he died, until a friend wanted to fix mom up with her brother. Mom was in her late 60's. She agreed to meet the friend, friend's husband, and the brother, at Outback Steakhouse. So they are all at dinner and the brother is talking a mile a minute. Mother is opposite him, looking at him. His tooth falls out in the plate of food. FALLS OUT. His sister scooped it up in her napkin, put it in her purse, and never said a word a bout it. Nor did he. Mother was so startled and grossed out she couldn't think of anything to say.

Thank goodness. So snaggletooth is not my step-dad today.

Let the stories flow...