Sunday, January 28, 2007

Clark Gable

His newspaper ad that said " Handsome , generous man wishes to meet SWF? People say I look like Clark Gable"..

So I talk to the guy on the phone and he sounds very charming...I get a little suspicious when he asks you to meet him at his apartment...but I downplay that...
and so when I get there he is in an electric wheelchair with a companion dog and he is way overweight and is bald on top .No way does he look like Clark Gable!!

And I just now realize that I have a predjudice against dating overweight bald guys in wheelchairs. But I can't say that because that would be cruel...Meanwhile I am tongue-tied and at a loss for words...

So he says "Oh, I forgot to tell you on the phone that I am a quadriplegic"....And I am thinking..." I can see how that would be sooo easy to forget".... so I figure probably the generous part in the ad is not true either...and I was mostly right..

Howsoever I was stuck with him for awhile, because I was too nice to be mean....well he WAS FUNNY with a quirky sense of humor!!(which I later learned that most of that ebulient happiness and sense of humor was from drug use)...

....I lived thru it...He took me to the first rock concert (Doobie Brothers, right..) I ever went to (with his personal care aide) and on the way home, the aide's car broke down.. and we had to call a tow truck and the aide had to lift him (200lbs?) UP into the cab of the tow truck...I still don't know how he did it.

Anyway, eventually I broke up with him because he still liked to call other women on the phone and run his ad..it was like a hobby to him...he is dead now...I saw his aide a few years later and he told me his kidneys gave out...life is stranger than fiction...esp.my life..

. anyway if spirits of the dead hang around to make amends to people close to them after they die..it would sure be nice if he would whisper the numbers for the next winning superlotto in my ear...it is the least he could do to make amends, I think, don't you???

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

Space Invader

Editors note: A big thankyou to my blonde pal from Chicago for letting me repost
her bad date tale.

I just took a vicodin, so I apologize now if this post is jumbled, has typos and grammatical errors. If you have problems with post that are not perfectly
written, click your "go back" button now.
I went to a holiday one month ago. It was mostly doctors and attorneys who attended. Let me say this...I think most attorneys, doctors and airline
pilots have this god like complex. I said MOST, not all. So therefore I usually do not connect with men who have these occupations.They also tend to think that women are impressed with their profession and when they figure that I am not...they lose interest. Fine by me, I want someone who has substance and charisma. So at the party, I was miserable. I went with a friend and I stuck around for her. I ended up chatting with a doc and we shared a few laughs.I honestly do not remember much of what we said.I had gotten in from Europe the evening before, and I was severly jet-lagged. So we exchanged numbers and agreed to go out for a bite or a drink sometime. Since then he had called and texted me non-stop. He called me yesterday and invited me to go dinner at Pops Champagne. I was excited...it would be nice to see him and this was a restaurant I heard so much about and never been.I was really looking forward to this date. So I picked out a cute outfit, wore some beautiful pearls and I was ready to go. I get in his car...it was full of junk in the back and sort of smelled bad. Oh well...off we go. We get downtown near the Hancock and park in the building next to it.He then says that he chose to go this pub/restaurant
in the Drake which was a few blocks. I thought maybe we were going in for a drink. Nope, I was wrong. He wanted to have dinner there too. I was so disappointed. What happened to Pop's??? He did not say anything and I certainly wasn't going to ask. But I was disappointed. The wine was OK, the food was sort of shitty...but we had good conversation and shared a few more laughs.
I knew at this point there was no "love" connection on my part. He was so vanilla and a bit awkward. There just wasn't chemistry, but he seemed nice. While
sitting there after dinner, he comes and sits next to me on my side of the booth. He starts touching and playing with my hair. I kept pulling my head away and scooting away from him. You would think that this would signal STOP TOUCHING MY HAIR! But no, it doesn't. He keeps scooting after me. I finally asked him politely to stop playing with my hair. Then he questions me about it! Listen, I don't want you touching my hair! Don't you dare question me about it. Be respectful and have some manners! He finished his wine and said let's go. He does not allow me to finish my wine, nor does he ask me if I am ready to go. We get up and he walks right in front of me, though the door and does not hold it.The fucking thing almost shuts on me!
We get outside and he suggests we go for a drink in the Hancock. I told him that I was going to call it night and go home. He started to beg and plead...just
saying one drink, it's a beautiful view and so on. I caved. Up we go, we get seats against the wall. He of course sits on the bench right next to me. He tries to touch my leg, hold my hand, tries to pull me into him. ARGH! Stop fucking touching me! I did not send out any body language that invited him to touch me and hang on me. I tried to scoot, pull away, removed his hand from my leg. What part are you not getting??? The fastest way to chase a woman away is not respecting her wishes, pushing yourself on her and invading her personal space.
He starts telling me about how he likes to bake and makes a wonderful fruitcake and I have to try it.I really did not have much to say except I don't care
for fruitcake or sweets. Finally he drops the topic.He then proceeds to ask about my last relationship...when, where, how long and so on. I answer him...in Chicago, May-Nov. He said "Oh, a summer fling" and I said no. It was not a fling, it
was a relationship.Please do not undermind me and try to diminish what I say. You asked, I am answering.Oh and stop interrupting me when I am answering your stupid fucking questions.He proceeds to ask more about this gentleman I was in a
relationship with.It seemed he was comparing himself and getting jealous or something.I did not go on and on about the man.I gave simple, short answers that
did not contain TMI and were appropiate. Finally he drops that subject and we are ready to leave. He again steps right in front of me, like cutting me off.
In the elevator, he is trying to hug me and pull me into him again. ARGH! Get the fuck off of me!
We go outside and he grabs my hand and starts walking across the street. He then says let's go in here...It's in the front of the building where he parked. I can see a bar in the front and doorman on the other side for entry into the residence side. I thought he wanted to go to the bar. I said no thank you, I have had enough, I really want to go home. He got a little angry and started saying he lives there and we will not drink, I have some fruitcake for you to try and take home. I politely said no thank, I want to go home. He turns around and stomps off like a fucking two year old! He walks into the building and that was it! I am standing there like WTF??? I cannot believe a 47 year old man just reacted like this. I cannot believe he left me on the street in downtown Chicago at 12:30 am. What kind of a man does this? Clearly he has no class, no manners. I call his cell phone and leave him a message letting him know that he is a disrespectful, imcompetent jerk who possesses no dignity and no class, and under no circumstances are you to contact me, ever. I get in a cab and head
home. This fucker has the nerve to start shooting off whack-job texts! No apologies, just sorry wacky excuses. He wrote weird things like it wasn't going to work because he was moving back to CA. He also wrote things about the 4th grade...UGH! I never responded. I deleted the texts and his number and when I got home, I blocked his number. Seriously...this guy was so transparent. When he parked in the garage, he never said he lived there. He clearly decided he wanted to stay near his place and that's why the "change" in plans. He thought he could get me drunk and get me in his home.I may not be an academic type person, but I am certainly not stupid.I am very perceptive and there is not much that gets past me. I am always watching and listening...I don't miss a thing. Luckily for me, I don't like to get drunk and stupid and I keep my wits about me.I guess it's better to see someone behave like this on the first date. I rather they show their true colors now rather than finding out about their stalking tendencies in a few months.
What a fucking fruitcake!

Sunday, January 21, 2007

Icebreaker?

I went out on a blind date with this guy to the movies. After the date, we were sitting in his car in my driveway. He went to kiss me (I so didn't want to kiss him!) but he missed, we bumped heads instead. That was actually a funny moment in a crappy date. We talked for a bit more and then all of the sudden he starts asking me all these sexual questions. I half answered them because I really wanted to get out of the car but I didn't want to be rude. All of the sudden, he digs around in the backseat and whips out a video camera. He asked me to make a porn with him because he knew the date wasn't going well and he thought that would be an ice breaker. I swear, that is what he said! I was stunned so I didn't answer him right away thinking it was a joke. Then he started taking his shirt off and turning the camera on! After that, I didn't really care if I was rude or not and told him to shove his camera and make a porn by his damn self. Needless to say, there was no second date.

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

The Shoe Guy

There was hot guy who used to bring his mint condition 1970 Cutlass 442 through the car wash where I and a friend worked (VERY upscale, we worked the registers inside)and he asked me out. Man I was excited, he was hot, had a good job, about 5 years older. I wore this cute little black dress with black hose and black stilettos.
All night long he stared at my feet. Hah, I thought, the shoes always get 'em. We sat together at a restaurant, I crossed my legs, and he was sort of stroking and playing with my calf and ankle. Everything seemed to be going well. When we left, we headed to the lake and parked and were talking. Then he leaned over and said "Let me see one of those shoes". Well, ok, sure why not? I handed it to him.
He proceeded to put it on his groin and grind it against his very "at attention" tool, until it looked like he got what he was after. Then he handed me my shoe back, took me home, and drove off. From the moment he took my shoe until he dropped me off at home I was SPEECHLESS!! I'd never heard of a shoe fetish before so this was totally new to me. I didn't know whether to throw my shoes out or offer them a cigarette.
He asked me out a few more times but I always declined, and I'd hide under the counter when he'd bring his car in for a wash. I told everyone at work and he rapidly became known as the Shoe Ef'er.

Sunday, January 14, 2007

The Hot Ticket

I once went on a blind date (friend set me up) with a man that ended up being old enough to be my father. i was horrified, but he was nice and I didn't want to be rude so we went to dinner and had a couple of drinks.
When we parted ways for the night he tried to get me to go back to his place and this is the line that he used (and yes, he was serious). "Baby, I think you are a real hot ticket. I have been thinking about making love with you all night long. I think you and I could be great together but you need to know that I have herpes. I don't like condoms but I like oral sex... I like to give it and I like to get it... but I won't use condoms".
At that point in the night I just laughed my *** off and got on the bus to go home.
I am not friends with the person that set me up on that date anymore btw.

Saturday, January 13, 2007

This Date Had Her in Stitches

It was the second and last date I had with this guy. The first date was AMAZING, but then the second one just went....wrong...so wrong...
It all started when I decided to wear these new earrings I bought. They are gold and dangling...very pretty. But definitely meant to be taken off before messing around...and probably meant to be worn with hair that it up and tied tightly into a bun, not down.
We went to dinner then headed back to his place to watch a movie and hang out. We ended up on his bed and started fooling around...but my hair got stuck in my earrings and was all over my face and I couldn't see a thing. His mom walked in, my shirt was unbuttoned. When I tried to get up I tripped over my shoes and fell into the television..it didn't break, but I got a cut on my head from something sharp and had to get stitches later. All the while his mom is just staring at me laughing.
I chose to walk home.

Sunday, January 07, 2007

Kitchen Tongs?

I was going on a date with this guy and he came to pick me up from my house. Well, just like a girl, I wasn't ready but not because of the usual reasons. I was on my period and I went to get in the shower so I sat on the toilet and was taking my tampon out and the dang string popped! So, he called and said he was on his way. I flipped out. I went to the kitchen and got a pair of cooking tongs! That didn't work. I went ahead and took my shower and got ready by that time he was there. I was worried because leaving a tampon in for so long can be dangerous. So, when he got there I explained to him that I was having a problem and I needed to go to the emergency room! Obviously I had to tell him what was wrong and he thought it was hysterical. Pretty embarrassing if you ask me.

Friday, January 05, 2007

Lobster Girl

When I was around 30 I was introduced to a friend-of-a-friend from work, a gal named Karen. We talked a bit, she was my age and seemed nice enough, so we made plans to get together that weekend. I lived in JP at the time and she in Lynn, so we met about halfway and spent part or the day at Nahant Beach. This, of course, is that part where people start talking about themselves -- lives and work and romance history -- and we did likewise.

She had, she told me, been in a relationship for several years and broke up with the guy because of his drinking. Okay, fine, that's not unheard-of. Then went on to tell me that she had "seriously cut down" on her own drinking, and limited herself to only six or seven screwdrivers a night instead of twelve. Okay, small alarm bells started to go off in my head but I ignored them. She also casually mentioned that she didn't sleep with a guy right away, but once she did she became completely obsessed with him. The alarm bells turned into howling air raid sirens, but I still tried to ignore them. After a bit more small talk we packed up and left the beach.

We decided to grab a bite to eat and noticed a small place in Charlestown offering a twin lobster special. We stopped there and ordered food, and while waiting she slammed down three screwdrivers. But no big deal, right? The food came and we dug in. Lobsters are weird things and only about a third of them is edible in my opinion, so I tore off the shell parts and ate what was left. Toward the end of our meal she pointed to the little side claws or legs or whatever they are and said, "You're not going to eat those? There's good meat in them!" and grabbed mine up. I'd never bothered with them thinking the little toothpick of lobster meat inside wasn't worth all the effort of picking them apart.

I pecked around at my plate a bit more, finished up the fries and corn, and then glanced over at her. She was sitting there working on the small legs alright, not picking them apart but just eating them shell and all. "Oh, these are the best part! " she told me. Crunch, crackle, crunch, gulp... I managed not to look as horrified as I felt, muttered my way through the rest of the meal and we left. I promised to call later, when I had a minute. That was 1988 and I still haven't found time to call.

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

A Day At The Pool

Once upon a time I was at this guy's house. We weren't officially dating, but we had started to see each other from time to time. Well, his neighborhood had a community pool, and it was a lovely summer day, so we decided to head on down there. I took off my pants, folded them up by the pool and jumped in. I started swimming laps around when I noticed him laughing uncontrollably.
"What?"
All he could respond with was laughter and wide eyes, one finger extended at my chest. Turns out I had fallen out of my new bathing suit and had been flashing all the pool patrons for a good five minutes. That embarassment, however, was nothing compared to the rest of the day.
Little kids had been running along the pool deck the whole time, and it so happened one of them kicked my jeans into the pool "by accident". Thankfully, I had brought a cover-up. So, while my jeans hung out on his deck, we laid around on his red daybed, watching TV. He eventually fell asleep, and some moments later, his younger sister (who was about 8) came down the stairs into his room in the basement. She started to say something then immediately got a shocked expression on her face, and trudged back up the stairs. I shrugged and figured she forgot what she was supposed to say, realized he was asleep, or was just being a goofy kid. No harm done. May I mention at this point that my cover-up dress matched the duvet?
His darling sister came peeking around the corner a few minutes later, yelling for my date to go speak with their mother. The sister crossed him cautiously as he sleepily stumbled up the stairs, and came over to me wringing her hands.
"Um... Katie... can I ask you a question?"
"Sure sweetheart, what is it?"
"Ermh... why are you... naked?"
leaping out of bed and a good six feet I exclaimed, "I'm not naked!" and spread my arms to reveal my red cover-up. Her hands covered her mouth in shock.
"He's gonna kill me... oh no..."
"...what did you say?"
"Oh, god, he's gonna kill me... I told my mom... I thought you guys were having," she went into a whisper, "*sex*"
I stood there in shock. I'd known this guy about a week, and I was only in eighth grade.
His little sister started to run out of the room when he came storming back in, glaring. She shrank in fear and ran off.
In a few minutes, we were called to all sit in their den and wait to have a "talk" with his mother. The following hour was spent being lectured to by his mother, who had a very thick spanish accent and a fiesty attitude to match, then being driven home in what was perhaps the most awkward car ride of my life. Needless to say, I decided not to go back.

Monday, January 01, 2007

What's Your Story?

Do you have a true, bad date story? Can we have it please? Then your story can join the ranks of such literary pearls as:
"Thankyou For Coming", "The Stain in Spain" , "If the Spew Fits" , "The Speed Date" , or my choice for most embarrassing date, "Stuck On You" . and of course the "Worst Date Ever",! C'mon, you know you want to, so just do it! ( bet you've heard that on a date before) Just send it as an e-mail at baddatesite@yahoo.com or leave it in the comments section below.