January 5, 2012
Recently I started talking to some chicks about the worst dates they had ever been on and I'll be honest; I LOVED HEARING THEM! It's been a while since I laughed that hard! I talked to girls from all walks of life and got some amazing stories. The stories ranged from awkward to me being straight up ashamed of my Y-chromosome sharing brethren. I want to list a couple just so that everyone can bask in the glory! So, here they are!
*Note: All of these stories come from places other than the high desert. I got some good worst dates out of the locals too but will not add them.
"He had me drive over to his place and he asked what I was going to make him for dinner."
"We watched the sunset on a video game (World of Warcraft)!"
"He took me as a date to his ex-girlfriend's wedding. As we walked into the reception he told me look really interested in him."
"As we drove to go see a movie he pulled over on the side of the road to pee. He did everything in view (with his back turned at least)!"
"He decided to teach me how to box (the sport) and ended up punching me so hard that it hurt to close my jaw all the way."
"We got done with dinner and he asked if we had been on the date long enough that we could make out yet."
"We watched The Exorcist."
"He was holding my hand as we took a walk (on our first date) and he abruptly said 'Recently a girl I liked a couple months ago began texting me and I don't know whether I want her or you.'"
"We went to a restaurant and he ordered for me...not the cute 'The lady will have the halibut' after asking me. No, he told the waiter what I was going to have then told me he didn't want to spend too much money on the date so he thought he'd order cheap."
“He took me out into the middle of the woods, gave me a machete and said that we were going zombie hunting... it might have been humorous but he was serious. He said he wanted to prepare me for when the real zombie apocalypse hit.”
Now, these are all extreme cases and I really would hope that most dudes wouldn't do something dumb like the aforementioned cases. Sometimes I marvel at dudes and their total obliviousness when it comes to chicks and how they'd like to be treated. I have had my fair share of bad dates but for the most part I don't think that they're dates that warrant a restraining order...although as I spoke with the chicks about their worst dates I was pretty sure I had been the culprit of a few of them...
The words hell, cleaning the bathroom, pickles and my grandmother's wig all bring back fonder memories to me than my worst date. I have sought and received the permission of the chick with whom I went on this date to retell it. The funny thing is that this chick and I were way good friends afterward and we went on other dates that were actually great. With that in mind, here we go!
My terrible, horrible, no good, very bad date happened when I had just turned 18. I met a girl at a party in a city where I had just recently moved to. I didn't know very many people and this gave me an opportunity to start over and make a new image for myself. I started off by telling her some garbage about myself that was probably mildly true but far overblown. She seemed very interested and we really hit it off. By some miraculous aligning of the cosmos, and possibly the intervention of the the creator of the universes himself, I got her number and we parted ways without me making too much of a fool of myself. Do you ever just go through a situation marveling at how well you're doing and you just keep telling yourself “don't screw up, don't screw up... smile... say something witty... okay, you're probably not going to keep up this luck, stop now...”? That was it. A couple days later I called her... I probably would have called her far sooner but my mom, knowing I was apt to screw something up, hid the girl's number until my mom thought it had been enough time... I feigned some semblance of confidence and said “Hey, we met at the party the other day...blah, blah, blah... look, I was...umm... wondering if...uhh...I mean...if you wanted to go do something with me on Saturday.” To my utter shock and dismay she said that she would. I finalized the plans and said “So, are your parents cool with it just being the two of us (sometimes Mormon parents are a little weird with their daughters going on single dates the second they turn 18)?” She said that they'd be perfectly fine with it. I had a little coaching session in my head on how to end the conversation with ruining my life for the rest of eternity and I hung up with my pride intact.
The day of the date came and I woke up bright and early to vacuum and clean my car. It was probably 7 am and I was at the car wash dressed from head to toe in my pajamas (which included a hooded sweatshirt that I had placed over my head). At the time I had a 1994 Hyundai Excel that had a hatchback trunk that rose to about 6 feet 2 inches off the ground, about an inch shorter than me. This car was a little, tiny, green car that was so small I had to drive with my head cocked slightly because I was too tall. I cleaned my car and continued vacuuming in my early morning daze when I turned around too quickly and the edge of the trunk not only cut my head but gouged a small piece of flesh out. The blood began to pour immediately and I realized that I was the proud new owner of a gaping head wound. So, as any normal person with a head wound would do, I decided to get behind the wheel of a car and drive home... Calling on my mounds of intelligence I just sped up and as I did so a cop pulled me over. Brilliant. I took the ticket and continued driving home... great idea until about 2 minutes from home I started getting lightheaded and my vision started going white.
Luckily I got home, pulled in to my driveway (parking slanted and blocking all other cars at my house). I walked inside and said “Mom! I think I might have hurt myself!” By this point the blood is all along my face, down my neck and soaking my t-shirt. My mom being the quick-witted and calm person that she is only says “You might have.” She directs me to sit down and she'd take a look at it. Upon careful examination she determined, and rightfully so, that I needed stitches but being the consummate romantic that I am yelled at her “NO! I HAVE A DATE!” She argued with me for a bit and I told her to just put a butterfly bandage on it. She relented and went to gather her tools. I sat calmly placing pressure with a towel on the wound and she returned, asking me to remove the towel so she could fix it. Before I even heard the buzz, a strip of hair was missing, she had shaved a line (A LINE!) down my head along the cut. I freaked out in some language that I'm sure made her think her son was possessed by some unearthly demon and she yelled back some nonsense about butterfly bandages not being able to stick to hair...whatever. Long story short; she got the bandage on and I was on my merry way to my date with a considerable amount of blood-loss, a strip of hair missing, a bright white bandage, a case of delirium and a partridge in a pear tree.
My date calls me on my way to pick her up and she explains that something minor came up and that she would just meet me at the intended destination for our date instead of me picking her up, no problem. I arrive at the date locale about 20 minutes early and get things ready... I still thought I looked okay with an anti-mohawk (of course, I also thought I looked good wearing shirts that were 2 sizes too small). After completing the preparations, I sat down and waited for my date.
30 minutes passes. An hour. Two hours and finally she pulls up. I was so excited for the date that I didn't even care that she was so late and didn't even call. I see her car door open and she stands up. Beautiful, long brown hair, gorgeous blue eyes and a wonderful smile... this is why I was totally cool with a massive head-wound. Then the back doors open and 3 of her girlfriends step out.
Now, in my teens I had a mouth that would put a sailor to shame but by this point I had luckily sworn off swearing altogether or else I would have probably grumbled something profane and ill-befitting of an upstanding young man. She mentioned some crap like “Oh, I hope you don't mind that I brought a few friends.” Yet again, it's good that I chewed orbit gum that day because heck yes I minded! And to add insult to injury they were all about as smart as a box of rocks... add some glitter to those rocks and they might have been as pretty too. For some reason I thought that maybe if I treated her friends exceptionally well that she would like me a lot more too. So, I paid for all her friends and I just told myself “Look at me! I'm a real Mormon now! I'm on a date with 4 girls!*” It wasn't entirely fun but I just bore with it for hopes that the chick might like me. We then went to dinner, yet again I paid. Then she told me she had to go do something real quick and excused herself.
*The LDS church does not condone, practice or encourage polygamy in any way. Just thought I'd clear that up)
Now when someone says real quick you may expect that that person will be back in a minute or two but you'll allow up to five minutes for the benefit of the doubt. Nope, 37.5 minutes later (I TIMED IT) she returns. She said something about how she had to run an errand... SHE WENT GROCERY SHOPPING and left me at the table with her 3 friends that made the 3 stooges look like Harvard graduates...but I endured. I think I realized that it was going nowhere when she said “Well, Kevin, I've had a nice time but I better get going.” She gave me an “I-don't-really-care-for-you-so-I'll-give-you-a-side-hug-with-zero-feeling” hug as she texted someone on her phone.
The Charlie Brown Christmas theme played as I walked to my car with my hands swaying lifelessly at my side and my head hanging low. It was then that I realized I had cleaned the blood off the front of me but in my anemic state had forgotten to clean some of the blood in other spots such as my neck, ears and back of my hair.
It's a good thing I had sworn off swearing...
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