Wednesday, March 29, 2006

Got A Bad Date Story?

Great! Can we have it? Please add it to the collection either by posting it in the comments section below or e-mail it to us at: We may edit it for content, all names will be changed to protect the innocent and we may publish it in other media in addition to this blog.
In the meantime, if you thought your date was bad, check out our archives. It's chock full of romantic tales like "If The Spew Fits" , "Who Doesn't like A Little Head?" and of course the very rude (but funny) "Thankyou For Coming"...ah, romance sniff,sniff...makes me a little misty.

Slave To Love...Not

I think the old show Naked City said it best, there's a a million stories. Well here's one for the books. Back in my younger days I was in a rock and roll band, and being the early 70's we played all the hot spots in the Chicagoland area. Having a horn section made it great cause we could do all the Chicago, BS&T kinda stuff and I was very good at copying Keith Emerson of Emerson Lake and Palmer. So anyways, we're doing a gig this one night and the people are really getting into it when I notice this one girl about 5'10 , long black hair, great looking face and body, standing at the edge of the stage just staring at me. We started doing Color My World and as I sang the song ,which I really liked, I looked down at her and she had tears in he eyes, so I walked to the edge of the stage, gently wiped the tears from her cheek and softly kissed her on the forehead.
During the break I was standing at the bar having a Coke when the girl walks up to me and taps me on the shoulder. As I turned to face her she reached up , places both hands on my cheeks and plants a kiss on me that had my toes curling. Her name was Felicia (made up) and she said that I the kindest, gentlest man she had ever met. Now I am 6'1'' ,about 280 with long blonde hair and a full beard. I look more like a mountain man than some greek god but hey if she thinks so, well so be it. We talk for 10 minutes or so till we have to start the last set of the night and she asks if she can stick around until after the band is done. I am not going to look a gift horse in the mouth and she was really starting to get to me, so I agreed.
At the end of the night ,as soon as we finished ,Felicia asked if it would be alright if we went back to her place instead of some other bar and that and she would fix me breakfast. She said she had a pool and Hot Tub and I could relax while she was cooking and this just made me happier that a dog in a butcher shop. A little wimper came out of her mouth when she saw me get on my Harley. Then she turned and walked over to her late model Porche, I knew I was in like Flynn at that point.
I followed her and we pull up to this gated community , the guard at the gate greets her and just gave me a look that could kill as I followed her in. I couldn't believe the house she pulled up in front of, like something out of Dynasty. The place was a regualar playboy mansion , lots of art, statues and marble. She led me to a bathroom in the rear where I could find some trunks to change in to while she slipped into something more comfortable.
I know this is long but you have to hear all of it to believe it, because at the time I was thinking I was in some dream and that I'd wake up in some hospital somewhere...but back to the story. I started undressing figuring to grab a quick shower before jumping in the hot tub. The glass enclosed shower was big enough for 6 people and the 8 shower heads started beating the sweat off me when the door opens and there she stands, Naked and beautiful. She walks over and start kissing me and well you can guess what happened.
After the shower I sat in the hot tub for about a hour sipping some wine and then we had a fantastic breakfast, she was a marvelous cook. Soon she took my hand and led me up the staircase and through a set of double doors. The room was pitch black till she hit the light switch and then is when I got the shock of my life. There on the walls were whips, all kinds of restraints, leather, chains. maskes of all sorts and in the middle of the room was a rack. I kid you not a bonafide meadevile torture rack with some guy shackled to it. He has a leather mask on and is chained hand and ankle to this thing. She turns towards me and opens her red velvet robe and is wearing the wildest dom outfit I ever saw and says to me. Now you will join me and become one of my slaves.
I was shocked but started laughing and told her in no uncertain terms that she was nuttier than a fruit cake if she thought I was going to be anyones slave no matter what. I beat feet down to where my cloths were got dressed as quickly as I could and started for the door. She caught up with me begging me to reconsider and that she really liked me and thought we could have a wonderful relationship. I got on my bike and got out of there as fast as I could.
She continued to show up at places we played for about 6 months. She would leave gifts for me with the bartenders with notes of how she missed me and needed to be with me. I tried returning the stuff to her house but the guard said that she said not to let me in and not to accept anything from me, so I now have a Rolex watch, leather motorcycle jacket, Long leather jacket and 3 different rings with diamonds and different precious stones in them. But I am not or will never be someones slave.

Monday, March 27, 2006

Psycho Potato Killer

Editors Note: Mucho Thanks to my pal Sadielady for this story. Go visit her blog at , apparently this is only one of a string of lousy dates she's been going on, unfortunate for her...but GREAT for Keep up the good work Sadie!
There's a cool bar I sometimes frequent that features a live jazz band on Tuesday and Saturday nights. One Tuesday night I was there with a girlfriend, sitting up at the bar drinking martinis, and my friend told me that there was a guy at a table checking me out. During one of the band's breaks the guy walked over to the bar to order drinks for his table and struck up a conversation with us. He had good conversation for a guy approaching two girls at a bar, made us laugh and got our attention. My friend said I should go for it, so when he came back over later for another round of drinks and took up residence in the empty seat next to me, I gave good conversation back and ended up handing out my phone number.
The first date was really good. We went for sushi, which I love. He ordered about half the menu, because there were so many things on it that I had never had before that he wanted me to try. We drank saki, lots of saki. We got along great. After dinner we went to another restaurant that has cool bar areas, outdoors and indoors. We started off outdoors, where there was a singer and a band, and when he asked me to dance during a slow song I laughed out loud at how ridiculous that sounded, especially seeing as how no one else was dancing or had danced the whole time we were there, but when he took no offense at my laughter and said he was serious and why not, and he was standing there beside me with his hand out, and the men in the band were looking at us and smiling their approval, I said okay why not, and we slow-danced. And the thing is, it was actually romantic. I mean, maybe if I were someone else there and saw us get up and dance I would have scoffed at us, but I think it would've been a jealous scoff, because it really made me feel special. Like I was in a romantic movie or something. Or at least a romantic episode of a sitcom on tv. When the band left, we went inside and talked til the place closed down. It was great. And when he dropped me off at home, he kissed me on the cheek, which ended the whole evening off on just the right note. So when he called later to ask for a second date, I was really looking forward to it. If only I had known what a psycho he truly was.

The second date was so completely different from the first date that I still wonder if I was really dating the guy's psycho twin brother that night. It started off by him picking me up at home in his car. Which turned out to be different from the car he had driven the first night. The car he had driven the first night, I found out, belonged to his mom. I also found out that night that he still lives with his mom: major warning sign. Why is it so important that he was driving a different car? Because his car was the freakiest looking thing I have ever seen. At one point in its lifetime it was a normal Honda. But turns out that this guy is a race-car fanatic, and after buying his Honda he decided to take it completely apart and put it back together again with certain modifications. Such as, the floor of the car was about 4 inches from the ground, so that when you step in and sit down you feel like you're about 3 feet tall. Also, the inside looks very bare-bones, not like a normal car: I don't know quite how to describe this better, except to say it looked like he had put the thing together from parts found in a junk yard. The engine made the most horrible noise: it was so loud, I'm sure you could hear it coming from miles away. This is also when I found out that despite the fact he told me on his first date what he did for a living (worked in some boring office), his REAL life's ambition is to be a professional box-car racer. This began a thirty-minute dissertation on box-car racing, which I THOROUGHLY enjoyed.

The first stop on our date was the zoo, which had a special lights show going on for the holiday season. Now this actually struck me as a very nice idea for starting off our second date, plus I had never been to the lights at the zoo before. But it quickly became ridiculous when he started making stupid animal noises at the animals. He was acting more childish than any of the children there, seriously. I guess he sensed my dislike for his behavior, because he quit with the animal noises, turned towards me, and started up some quiet, normal conversation - - soon followed by a move to hold my hand - - quickly followed by an annoying "hey! look! we're holding hands!", after which he started skipping. Yes, skipping. I swear. It was NOT funny.

So then we went to dinner. And here's where it got really scary. We went to an Outback Steakhouse for dinner; each table at an Outback has a picture of an animal at the table. We had some kind of monkey. Which my date NAMED, and then began TALKING TO, and kept talking to throughout the meal. At this point I ordered brown liquor, which I kept ordering throughout the meal. The waitress brought us a small loaf of bread while we were waiting on our food: it was on top of a little cutting board, with a big bread knife. My date asked if I would like some, and I said yes, so he took the bread knife and PUT IT BEHIND HIS BACK. He looked at me and smiled, then looked at the bread loaf and STARTED TALKING TO IT. He talked to it in a fake, high-pitched voice, and he said "hey, mr. bread loaf, how are you! what? what's that behind my back? oh, don't worry, it's nothing! I'm not going to hurt you! Don't be alarmed! See, there's nothing going on - - - (bringing out the knife) Oh! Oh! Oh! (cutting the bread) You're hurting me! You're hurting me! ohh, I'm dying! Ohhhh......" And then he gave me a slice of bread. I am so not making this up. So now I'm just staring at this guy, and when the waitress checks back with us to see how things are going, I just look up at her with desperate eyes and beg her for another Jack Daniels. Pretty soon the food comes: steak and baked potato for both of us. He ate his baked potato first, and when he was finished with it, he used his knife and fork to fold the skin of the potato over and over and over itself, until it formed a sort of rectangle. Then he told me that he had MADE A COFFIN for his potato, since he had killed it. Then he SAID A PRAYER OVER THE POTATO COFFIN, and told it to rest in peace, then moved it off to a side plate and turned to the steak, at which point he repeated the clever routine he had played out with the loaf of bread, the whole hide the steak knife behind the back thing and pretend that he's talking to the steak before he murders it. Again, I am so not making this shit up.

So when the meal was over and we left the restaurant, and he asked if I wanted to go somewhere else and get another drink or something, my answer was "no, please no, please please please just take me home." It was a quiet ride back. Very, very quiet. And when we got to my house, I just got out of the car and walked to my door, not caring whether he was following me or not. He did follow, so I looked back at him once and said goodbye. I guess he knew he had completely scared me off of him for life, because there was no smile, no there no words, there was no attempt to go for a good-night hug or kiss, and no asking for another date. And I never heard from him again, thank God, thank God.

And believe it or not, that's not even the worst of the guys I have dated. So stay tuned for the continuing series.

Saturday, March 25, 2006

Deadbeat Dads Dating Downfall

Many thanks to Kathryn for letting me use this story from the blog section of her website .You can read the original version there. I however am choosing to change the name of our subject, only because if I ever do anything stupid enough to rate publicity, I hope someone will do the same for me! Now on to the story:
Our hero, lets call him Wayne, had been contacted by a young lady in response to a personals web ad he'd posted. Excited at the prospect of meeting a new lady love, Wayne was racing (in his 16 year old Cadillac) to the appointed meeting place when, unfortunately, he was involved in a major collision and ended up in the hospital! What could be worse than that you may wonder? An evening that ends in collision and injury before he even meets his date? Well, read on...
Wayne was undaunted. Upon his release from hospital, our hero again contacted his soon to be sweetie and explained his terrible luck. An understanding soul, she accepted his explanation and agreed to meet him at a new location. Everything looked like it would work out fine...except for two small problems. One, his "lady" was a female cop who had recognized his web picture as one of the leading deadbeat Dads in the area, with a warrant out for his arrest (the reason she'd set up the date) and Two, he tried to elude arrest by driving off with a license that had been suspended after the original accident.
Poor Wayne, some romances just aren't meant to be!

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

Check Our Archives

Have you checked our archive pages? They're chock full of literary pearls like the rude (but funny) "Thankyou For Coming", also "The Stain in Spain" , "If the Spew Fits" , "The Speed Date" , my choice for most embarrassing date, "Stuck On You" . and much, much more! Also, don't forget to send us YOUR bad date story ,You know you want to, so just do it! (hmmm, bet you've heard that on a date before) Just send it as an e-mail at or leave it in the comments section below. Thanks

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

The Neverending Date Part 2

Editors Note: This guy needs to meet the girl from This Story.
This happened about a year and a half ago. I was out with some friends at the neighborhood hangout and in walked a guy I had never seen before. Mind you, this is a very close-knit part of town where everyone knows everyone else. This guy was a 6-foot-four-200-some-pound Michaelangelo sculpture in the flesh, I mean hot! And I liked the unpretentious manner he had about him, considering he was so good-looking. A few questions to some of the other locals told me he was 24, from a good, well-known family and had just moved back to the area. Intros are made, we talk a bit and exchange numbers before he left to meet friends elsewhere. He left me one hell of a sexy message at about 5am asking if I wanted to meet for breakfast (it was Saturday night, and we always hang out until daybreak) but unfortunately I already was having breakfast with this other guy I was casually seeing. So we end up getting together a couple of days later, on Tuesday night. We were out very late and I told him he could crash at my house. Well, he did. FOR THREE DAYS. I knew he had to be at work on Wednesday, but for the life of me, I could not get this big oaf to wake up. The entire day I was captive in my house. Although he had cred, was very well-known and I knew I was safe, I still didn't want to leave him alone in my house. He finally woke up at 4pm and went home to shower and change before coming back to watch a movie and order take-out. The next day was Thanksgiving and he went home for part of the day; he invited me to his house for Thanksgiving dinner since work precluded me from making it home for the holidays. Very nice indeed. After dinner we were planning on hooking up with some of my friends back at the local bar. So...dinner time. I bring a dessert (which is completely ignored by the family) and all I can say is that this family is straight out of Jerry Springer. The house was a MESS, everyone was screaming and fighting with each other and ignoring me, seemingly not happy at all that I was there in the first place, there was one relative lying on the couch with an oxygen mask, hacking his lungs up, a 300-lb aunt scarfing the food down with gasping breaths and bulging eyes, cats and dogs chasing each other, pulling a bag of trash around the kitchen...I don't know how I made it through dinner without puking. That was the fastest Thanksgiving dinner I ever had in my life, I think we were at the table for maybe 10 minutes. I couldn't get out of there fast enough. Anyway, we get back to my place so I could change into more casual clothes (silly me, why did I get so dressed up for dinner, he asked-ummm, because I was RAISED that way?!). Only after I got changed did he inform me that not going to work the other day meant he didn't get his the evening's entertainment was on ME. Now, I don't mind paying once in a while, but I don't like being ambushed about it. And considering his aforementioned height and weight, it was gonna take a whole lotta drinks to take this one down. So he goes upstairs to use the restroom and I run into the basement to call my friend, telling her to call me in exactly five minutes and to just go along with whatever I'm saying. I HAD to lose this guy. So she calls and I'm like, "Oh my God, I'll be right there!" I tell him my friend's sister was rushed to the hospital and I HAVE TO GO! She needs a ride, and I'll call him later. He's all, no problem, and oh, by the way, he says, "I used the toothbrush in the bathroom drawer, just so you know." I don't know how I kept myself from wetting my pants, because that is the toothbrush I use to scrub my sneakers when I clean them! (Poetic justice?) So I'm feigning rushing around, trying to get things together for the "ride to the hospital" when he finally leaves. I waited until he was out of sight before I rushed out to meet my friends, but at a different bar in case he showed up at the regular one! He proceeded to call my cell phone about five times in the next 30 minutes, not asking about how my "friend's sister" is, but what time will I be back so we can go out? To tell you how nutty this guy is, I come home to find a love letter from I am the woman he has been looking for for all of his life (you're only 24, dude! And you've known me for like, six days!), he wants to be with me every minute of every day and he even has our children's names picked out!!! Give me a break! So I call him and tell him he's going too fast, I need to take it down a notch...long story short, I just stopped taking his calls and now when I see him around, he is really mean. Whatever.

Sunday, March 19, 2006

Up Chuck

Although I was a typical sixteen year old my mother's words often came to me in various situations. That was the case when my date, at a Saturday night church dance, an older boy (at least 18) asked me to dance. My Dad had dropped my friend and I off and I had arranged to meet him there. I was horrified because he smelled terrible (like beer and cigarettes) but I remembered my Momma's words "it takes an awful lot for a boy to ask a girl to dance. You should never shoot them down. Always say yes and dance at least once with them." So, much as I felt like bolting I smiled demurely and agreed to slow dance with him. His name was "Chuck." I'll never forget the song. It was "Scarborough Fair." Do you know how LONG that song is? Anyway, he clutches me tight and I thought for a moment he was crying as his shoulders started to heave. It was only when the warmth hit my neck that I realized the drunk bastard had puked on me. Hey, Ma, thanks for the advice.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Love On The Red Line

So Friday, I'm on the train reading a book. A hot guy and his brother get on the train at the Woodly Park/Adams Morgan Station and sits behind me. Hot guy taps me on my shoulder, asks me what I'm reading. We compare books.
Mine: true crime; His: some study guide book.
He tells me that he's a high school teacher (which I love-such an admirable thankless job) and he's studying for some exam he has to take later that evening. He tells me that he's fine with math and science, but the grammar section is killing him. Well, I MAJORED in English and tell him that so and I sit next to him and give him a crash course in grammar 101. I'm so engrossed in helping out this gorgeous teacher man that I MISS my stop at Metro Center but don't care. He gives me his number and makes me promise to call him later that evening. We get off at Union Station and I am in such a good mood that I sashay right into Nine West and blow my entire paycheck on several pairs of "do me" heels.
Now, completely out of character for me, I call him later that night (just to find out how his exam went) and the smooth-talker that he is convinces me to meet him at a club later that evening. I'm a bit concerned about the age difference (I'm 24, he's 31) but I let it go. Now, I've got pairs and pairs of brand-new "do me" heels that are DYING to be worn and I don't really have any other plans, so I put on a sexy black dress and my sexy black heels and I meet him.
FIRST problem: he's shit-faced by the time he arrives. He's loud and abrasive and a completely different person from the guy I've met earlier on the train. He gets on his phone and calls everybody and their mother, telling them that he's on a date with a beautiful woman. He calls one friend and says some very raunchy stuff about how sexy I look in Spanish...completely unaware that I minored in the language and understood every dirty thing he was saying.
SECOND problem: he buys me a drink, introduces me to his cousin and then abandons me for fifteen minutes after we're inside. I'm left sitting at the bar with his MUTE of a cousin who refuses to look me in the eye but wouldn't stop staring at my tits.
THIRD problem: he comes back with a plate of food and shovels chicken and rice in his face like a starving Somalian. I'm thinking he hit a blunt in the bathroom and got some major munchies and I'm blown because he didn't even offer me some.
Meanwhile, his cousin disappears and the guy next to me, seeing what a miserable time I'm having offers to buy me a drink. Well, my date is too busy stuffing his face to notice so I accept. Nervously, I begin to play with a ring on my left hand and begin moving it along my different fingers. My date finally looks down at my hand when the ring happens to be on my "ring" finger.
He asks: "Are you married?" I say, "No." He says..."It's okay if you are. I mean, I am, too. But it's all about having a good time, you know?"
I turn my head to the guy next to me and mouth "He's MARRIED!!!" The guy shakes his head and slides his drink over to me. Without even asking what it is I swallow the entire glass, thank him, kiss HIM on the cheek and leave the bar.
I ended up going upstairs and having a pretty good time anyway and somehow wound up at iHop at 6 in the morning with a bunch of Africans. How do I keep getting myself into these dumb situations?

Sunday, March 12, 2006

Totally gross old man story

Thanks to our friend in Chicago for letting us use this horrifying story. But let me assure you, not all guys are dirty old men. There are also dirty young and dirty middle age men. :O)
Last year I was in an art store picking up paper when an old man approached me. I took him for a flamboyant gay man, and he was funny, and he chatted me up and it was fine. we kept in touch and I continued to take him for a flamboyant gay man. He's about 35 years older than me. Come on. Over twice my age. Finally recently we had lunch together. Afterwards he leaned in, I thought to kiss me on the cheek in classic old-man style, and he went in for my mouth and his was open and it was a totally mortifying, open-mouth, wet slobbering kiss. I almost puked. I told him off and he finally stopped calling.
WTF? Disgusting.

Thursday, March 09, 2006

Never Again Craig!

This is why I'll never do a craigslist date again.  I
think everyone tries it once, and then learns his
I responded to a personal ad off craigslist and the
girl sent me a blurry picture of her. She looked ok
in the picture. So we agreed to meet at a restaurant
for dinner before seeing a movie. I was on the bus
nearing the restaurant to meet her and she calls me on
my cell phone. I looked out the window of the bus and
saw this girl talking on her phone and her talking was
matching the words coming out of my cell phone. I was
stunned. This girl looked like the back of my sack.
How she managed to talk the camera into taking a
semi-decent picture of her is beyond me. My thought,
"abort!" I could easily have stayed on the bus, left
this girl on that street corner, and gone straight
home. But my conscience got the better of me and told
me not to just stand this girl up. Besides, maybe she
was a cool girl and maybe we could be "just friends."
The restaurant (her choice) was really shitty. Worse,
she was boring and not very bright. I sat through the
rest of the date just hoping this girl wouldn't want a
kiss goodnight, nor would she want to call me again.
Fortunately neither happened.

Never again, craigslist, never again!

Monday, March 06, 2006

The Lost Story

Editors Note: This story was sent to me recently. I liked it, made a note to publish it and then promptly lost it! I don't have a clue how I lost it either, so , with my apologies to the original writer I've retold it in my own words... here it is:
This story concerns a young, teenage lad, still (reluctantly) a virgin and determined to change his status. Now our hero, (let's call him Leo) through courage and perserverence, managed to land a date with one of the most popular girls in school. Popular because she was cute, popular because she was smart, but mostly popular because she "put out" every time. As the appointed day drew nearer, Leo could barely contain his excitement. He borrowed a friends car, one with a huge backseat. Made an embarrassing, but neccessary trip to the drug store ( even practiced putting "them" on). What could go wrong?
Finally the big night arrived. He pulled into her driveway (no, this isn't a metaphor...her actual driveway) and smiled as he saw her wave and start walking toward the car. Oooo, The sweater she was wearing was tight! Ahhh, the lipstick she was wearing was shiny and red! Then she got in the car and the cologne she was wearing was: ARGHHH...THE EXACT SAME SCENT HIS MOTHER HAD WORN FOR HIS ENTIRE LIFE! Now we all know that any thought of a mother is like Kryptonite to a guys sex life and that night, all night ,Leos Moms presence, seemed to, well, hang in the air. So Leo, poor sad Leo couldn't even bring himself to kiss his date! In years to come, that night would always be remembered by the girl as when the one "nice guy" in high school asked her out and she would always wonder why he never asked again...or if he turned out gay!

Saturday, March 04, 2006

The Jerk

So, I met this guy at a club and he was extremely respectful and nice. We made a date for a movie and dinner. I drove to meet him, and he then told me that it was unacceptable that I didn't have on jewelry. He refused to have any input in choosing the movie, saying that if it was bad, I wouldn't be able to blame him for taking me on a bad date. (After what happened later in the evening, a bad movie would be the least thing I would hold against him.) After the movie we went for dinner- at Taco Bell. We took our tacos back to his house and ate on the floor of the living room- on newspaper so that we wouldn't spill on the carpet. His brother showed up and when we were introduced he said to my date, "Oh, yeah, she is cute," as if I wasn't in the room. Then he said to me, "You look like you have a cute little body. Stand up and let me look at you." Did he really think I was going to stand up and turn around so he could get a better look at my body? Later he held my hand like he was going to say something really romantic, but instead told me that I better have my nails done the next time I came over. Then, after telling me how much he liked my butt, he asked me what size pants I wore. I was in such shock that I actually answered, 6 or 8 (truthfully), to which he responded, Tell the truth, it's really a 10 or 12. Needless to say that I never expected to speak to him again. When he called four times in a row a few days later, I finally answered the phone. He then started to yell at me about how I was unappreciative and that a girl had never disrespected him by not calling him after a date. (What girls had he been dating?!) He then said that he was going back to his "player ways" and he wished that he had a picture of me to hang up in his bedroom so that when he brought girls home he could show them who ruined him for them. Psycho. He then continued to call me routinely for several weeks even though I never answered or returned calls. I had to leave his number in my phone for fear that he might call and I might actually answer on accident.

Friday, March 03, 2006

The Windbreaker

I was going out with this guy for the first time. It was a warm spring day in May and I had the a/c turned off and the windows open. I thought I heard someone on the front step so I peeked out the front window which was right by the front door. He couldn't see or hear me. At the very moment I glanced out he let out a huge cripsy fart. He was standing there, all scrubbed up, handsome, suave and nice and eager and it was the funniest thing. I waited a reasonable amount of time and opened the door with a smirk on my face. I couldn't help it and I also couldn't stop snickering throughout the entire evening, including the kiss goodnight. I know it was immature of me but it just struck me so funny and I couldn't shake the giggles. I'm sure he had no idea I had heard and I couldn't tell him. He must have thought I was a nut case and didn't call again. At the door I couldn't resist telling him "thanks for a wonderful time, it was a gas."

Wednesday, March 01, 2006

The Hygenist ( pulling teeth)

Here's my bad date story...not as bad as many on your site, but still

So I am just a few years out of grad school and working up on Capitol
Hill in Washington, DC just basically enjoying the dating sceen. Well,
being a relatively normal guy I go to the dentist every 6 months like you're
supposed to. Now I have been going to this dentist since the dentist's
dad owned and operated the practice, and he and my parents were good
friends.So now dentist's son runs the practice and we are good friends (which
always made going to the dentist weird since, who doesn't hate going, even
when the dentist is your bud).
All of my dentist bud's hygenists are relatively young and basically
all knockouts (really...I swear, not an older or unattractive one in the
bunch).Since dentist and I are friends, they all sort of know me as well
and we all would sort of platonically flirt when I came to the office
(either for an appointment or just to grab my friend to get a beer). But on
this dental appointment, there is a new hygenist whom I do not know...and
she is smokin'! Now I've got a thing for red-heads, and dentist and all his
hygenists know this so they are chatting me up while I'm having my
teeth cleaned (like I can chat back in that scenario!?) about new red-headed
hygenist who they notice me checking out. So I make it a point to
start stopping by dentists' office on a very regular basis for a few weeks,
and after not too long ask her out. Her, prodded on by my hygenist
helpers, is eventually expecting this and agrees to a date.
Now, I want to make a good first impression. So I make sure my prize
possession (my Corvette...yes, I have plastic crates holding up an
ancient TV, but spent every dime to drive a Corvette..typical young stupid guy,
I know) is washed, waxed and cleaned to go pick her up. I find it a
little off-putting that she lives with mom and dad, but she's young twenties
and DC is an expensive town so no big deal. Except when I get there dad,
apparently a Coast Guard officer, proceeds to spend 10-15 minutes
literally grilling me like I am taking his 16 year old daughter out as opposed to
his fully grown adult 24 year old daughter...was I supposed to salute when
I left? So, not off to a great start, but this can easily be overcome.
I have made reservations at a great tapas restaurant near Chinatown
(Jaleo...anyone from DC, go there, its awesome). I quickly find out
during the drive that this girl is either really reserved or really nervous,
because getting more than two words out of her is like pulling teeth
(no pun intended). Now I know a couple of people who work for the company that
owns Jaleo, so I have made sure with them that we will get a great window
table. This back then was a hard restaurant to get into on short notice, but
my date is unimpressed and keeps mentioning that she doesn't know what
tapas is and doesn't think she'll like it. Try something new for god's sake, it
won't hurt you. Would you rather I take you to McDonalds...or freakin'
Olive Garden. Well, dinner is awesome, and I think the evening is
going better, hey my date even had two very large sangrias so I'm thinking
she has got to loosen up some. Waiter comes to bring the check..and I don't
know what my friends who work for the company told the people at the
restaurant, but the meal's on them. Now this would normally be awesome...a $100
meal for free! Except I generally carry very little cash (I love my debit
card its just like cash, right), but no check means no bill to run on the
card.I need to leave this waiter an awesome tip since (1) it would look bad
to my date not to, and (2) he was a kick ass waiter. So I empty my wallet of
the roughly $25-30 I had for tip.
Next we go to a comedy club for some laughs. Liquor has still not
loosened my date up and the faces on Mt. Rushmore talk more than her. Park the
car in a garage (BTW...she did manage to find a couple of words about how
she doesn't like low to the ground sports cars), and head in. Comedy club
is great, 3 stand-ups including D.L. Hughley, except...she's not laughing
much, and she thinks its too loud. At this point I'm starting to
wonder..does she have a personality to go along with those looks, does she do something
other than complain. Exit comedy club and head to garage attendant, flip out
my card to pay for parking. Garage only takes cash. I'm out, but no
problem, quickly scan street for ATM machine...none to be found. Nice night so
I suggest a short walk to a pub assuming I will find an ATM along the
way. Date rolls eyes and pulls out a $20 to pay for parking...ouch.
Okay, I'm a reasonably romantic guy...I can still salvage this. I know
from my hygenist helpers back in my friend's office that this girl has
recently moved here from...I'm not kidding, Alaska. I am a native Washingtonian
so I have stashed a small cooler with a bottle of wine and 2 glasses in the
back of the car, and tell her I thought we could stroll the Washington mall
(where the nation's most infamous monuments are) and sit on the grass
and enjoy a glass of wine, and I could be her personal moonlit tour guide.
She just looks at me....sort of bug eyed, and says..."why"? Do they not
date in Alaska! Do they not have personalities in Alaska! Why, because I am
trying to show you a nice evening on the town in a new city!
Okay, no more trying, she has no personality and no manners and is
obviously not into me. Drive home, stop at ATM to pay back cash, she jumps out
of my car...I try to walk her to door to be polite, but she is apparently
worried about Captain Daddy, so bolts to door. Now I admit, not having a lot
of cash...not a good move, but I have never tried so hard to have a
pleasant evening to instead have such a long....painful....dull...experience
with such a beautiful woman who's only speech was to complain. Avoided
friends office for a few months and by the time next dental appointment came
around she no longer worked there. Other hygenists confirm my belief that she
was apparently socially inept...and complained...a lot.