Bad Date Stories

A Mad Date

One of the worst dates of my life, but also one of the funniest, was a fixup. My parents' next door neighbor was something of a busybody and she kept telling me about a man she knew who was new in town and how perfect he was for me.

Wary of blind dates, I allowed that she could give him my phone number and we could talk on the phone but I wouldn't make any promises about going out with him. So he called a few days later and we chatted. He sounded nice enough.

I prepared for the date carefully, in case Kathy was right and he was hunky. I put on a little black dress, high heels, makeup, jewelry, the works. I was dressed to kill - or as close to it as I could get, being a poor grad student.

He came to the door of my tiny apartment and when I opened the door, I hoped, for a split second, the guy standing there was lost, and certainly not my date. My hopes were dashed when he spoke. I don't remember his name, but for purposes of the story I will call him Jeff.

He was not much taller than me [I'm 5'4] and he had carrot red hair and a lot of freckles. He was wearing suit pants, a dress shirt and tie, dress shoes, and a bright orange parka that sorta matched his hair.

He looked like the guy on the MAD Magazine cover, on his way to a business meeting at the South Pole.

I invited him in.

"Wow, it's really cold out there!" he exclaimed.

"Yep, I think I better put on something warmer. Hold on a minute," I said, heading back to my room.

Yikes, I have to go through with this, I was thinking, I don't want to be rude. I also don't want this guy making a move at the end of the evening. So I took off the little black dress and put on a large corduroy jumper over a turtleneck, and pulled my hair back in a ponytail. I also put on thick socks and sturdy boots. I looked like an extra on Little House on the Prairie.

We went to dinner at an Italian restaurant I liked a lot. I ordered something expensive, but I can't remember what. The guy had plenty of money. I knew that from Cathy's description of him.

I also thought, even if I'm not attracted to him, he's a nice guy and maybe there's a basis for friendship there.

I was trying to chitchat pleasantly, when the interrogation started. He didn't try to be subtle or work things casually into a conversation, he just fired off questions.

"So, what do you do for a living?" he asked.

"I'm a paralegal."

"Do you want to go to law school one day?" he continued.

"Um, no, actually, as I mentioned, I'm in graduate school getting a master's in English."

"What do you plan to do with that?" he asked incredulously. "Teach?"

"I am a writer," I said, starting to get annoyed.

"What do you write?"

"Mostly poetry," I said. He looked at me like I was an escaped lunatic.

"Do you work out?"

"Yes. "

"How often?" he asked.

Now I was getting annoyed.

"Oh, sometimes as often as twice a week!"

"What sort of workout do you do? Cardio? Weight Training?"

"Oh, I walk to campus. Sometimes even I take the stairs to my apartment!" [I lived on the third floor]

"Do you eat healthy?"

"Well, yeah, most of the time. I don't eat Top Ramen, just Campbell's soup. I try to eat a salad at least once a week, and every day I eat a Granola bar."

He looked skeptical of my answers but I was actually being pretty truthful. I was a poor grad student, I couldn't afford a gym membership.

The food came, but the interrogation continued. He stopped just short of asking me about the deductions on my last tax return or the number of fillings in my teeth. He must have trained at the KGB school of dating.

Even if he had looked like Rob Lowe it wouldn't have mattered at that point.

Finally, after I had finished my cannoli and was wondering whether I should even bother to disguise a healthy burp, I decided to go for the kill shot and shut the guy down.

"You know what, Jeff?" I said, leaning forward, trying to look alluring and sincere at the same time. "I really, really want to get married. I am SO ready to be a mom. I am thinking this is going SO well, maybe you're Mr. Right! Are you feeling it too?"

He paid the check quickly, after first getting out a huge calculator and figuring the tip.

Ladies, if you want to end a date quickly, you don't have to be rude. Just tell the guy you want to get married and have kids RIGHT NOW. About 99% of the time, this works beautifully. The guy is gone in a heartbeat, and you will NEVER hear from him again.

Try and get him to pay the check first, though.

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.