Have you ever been on a date where there was too much back-story and the prologue so long that you didn’t think you’d last through the appetizer, let alone dinner, and you’re thinking,“I shaved my freakin’ legs for this?”
Please welcome authors, Nancy Lauzon, Renee Wildes and Donna Alward as they join me in sharing a bad date experience.
Mine wasn’t really a planned date. It was foisted upon me by my brother (to this day, I still say in a dramatic way—”You sold me out for a ride in a fancy sports car?” (Yes, I milk my childhood mishaps).
I was fifteen at the time and I was at a big Italian wedding with my family. One of the guests was someone I knew from the neighborhood. Every community had one. You know the type, rich, popular, great hair…the Fonzie of the neighborhood. Except he never impressed me.
A. He was too full of himself and I was never one to follow a trend or the crowd…especially the group of girls who visibly drooled whenever he entered a room.
B. His family scared me. Especially his grandmother. More on that later.
I’m pretty sure the only reason he wanted to ask me to dance was because I ignored him and didn’t salivate or swoon over him at this wedding.
Unknown to me, my brother made a backroom deal with this dude. My brother guaranteed Dude that I would dance with him if my brother got to drive his brand new sports car around the block. (16 year old’s with brand new sports car that daddy bought them, another reason not to like this guy). My brother to this day defends himself: “At least I didn’t sell you for a herd of goats.” (Like that even makes any sense or justifies his wanton greed to drive a sports car).
My brother then promised me he’d help convince my parents for me to go on a school trip, if I’d just dance with the Greek-Fonzie-Adonis for just one dance.
I thought, what the heck, one dance won’t kill me. No, it won’t kill me, but I just about killed HIM.
You see, Greek-Fonzie-Adonis was severely allergic to shellfish. I had just finished eating a shrimp cocktail.
He went in for a kiss.
I told him he’d lose an arm, leg or whatever necessary part he loved, if he tried to kiss me.
He didn’t believe me. He planted a big one on me.
First his tongue swelled.
Then he gasped and fell to the floor.
His mother came running over with an Epi pen.
His grandmother pointed at me, gave me the “Evil Eye,” said a string of things, while shaking her bony fingers at me in Greek and then in broken English told me she put a spell on me for trying to kill her oh-so-sweet grandson.
And the band played on. . .
I shaved my legs for this? by Nancy Lauzon
My worst date happened back in college. I had a crush on some guy who was a friend of my roommate’s boyfriend. He was very quiet, so I couldn’t tell if we had anything in common or not, but he was so good-looking I didn’t care. We went on a double date to a local amusement park. Things were going pretty well, until half-way through the evening, my date disappeared.
That’s right, he disappeared. I can’t remember the exact details. Maybe I went to the restroom or maybe he left to get cotton candy. All I know is, he vanished into thin air. My roommate and her boyfriend looked everywhere, but he was nowhere to be found. Needless to say, it was quite a blow to my ego. To say I was embarrassed would be putting it mildly.
I was almost hoping he’d been struck dead by a runaway roller coaster car, but alas, that was not the case. He never explained himself or apologized to me. His official excuse — sent via my roommate’s boyfriend — was he’d suddenly forgotten he had to be somewhere, and couldn’t find me to explain. R-iiight.
I shaved my legs for this? by Renee Wildes
I grew up a tomboy and I’m still not a girlie-girl, but even I have my limits. I agreed to go camping with…Grizzly Adams, I swear to God. I was thinking tent and Dinty Moore and s’mores. But noooo…
It rained, the tent blew down and we had to do laundry in a RIVER. With leeches. Seriously, THAT’S what the salt was for??? Eww. Stupid me thinking it was for Margaritas! He wanted to show me this cool cave. Really cool – until a bat pooed on my head. Tried drying the darn clothes on a tree branch – I fell out of the tree. Everything smelled like mud and smoke and…trout guts. I can’t eat anything with the eyes still looking at me, people. I was starving when I got home! I took a two-hour bubble bath and pigged out on fried chicken and Haagen Dasz.
I shaved my legs for this? by Donna Alward
When I was fourteen I experienced the sweetest, most romantic moment a fourteen-year-old girl could hope for. I was sledding with friends over the Christmas break and the whole week I’d had a thing for my friend’s cousin. He was 16. We were at the top of the hill, lying in the snow looking up at the stars, and a shooting star went zooming across the sky. And then he kissed me.
You’re all sighing right now, right? And you’re thinking, Hey, Donna, this is supposed to be a BAD DATE story. What the heck?
Fast forward about 4 years.
I’m going to university an hour or so from where this guy lives, and he calls me up, asks if I want to go out. Now bear in mind after a few months of cute letters back and forth, our brief romance kind of died off. But…good memories, right? So I say sure. It’s just a movie after all. And I’m curious.
He picks me up in his old pickup, which isn’t that big of a deal. None of us are driving anything new, we’re struggling students. Except he’s not alone. He’s brought a friend along. ON A DATE. And while I did my hair and dressed cute and all that stuff, he had on an old paid of jeans and a T-shirt and a ball cap. And not the cute kind of ball cap either, more the “I got this for free from the local garage” kind of ball cap, complete with nylon mesh. I’m already thinking this isn’t the most promising start.
The movie we go to see? The most romantic movie of all time, of course! TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES. The three of us. Then we went to a Chinese place for something to eat…let’s just say sitting there with two 20-year old guys being, well, GUYS…. (need I say more?)
To be honest, I was really disappointed. I have some very good memories of times spent in their neck of the woods and it was like he was a whole other person. Then again, maybe I was too. But I never understood why he asked me on a date and then…that was his idea of a date?
I don’t remember if he kissed me goodnight or not, or if he even tried. But I do remember being relieved when he was gone, and sad to have that teenage bubble of sweet memories popped by a pin of reality.
What is your bad date story?