She said, “Lets go back to my place. But you can’t stay in my bedroom.”
I said, “Thats cool. I’ll $#%@ you on the couch!”
Not only did I not get a second date, I didn’t even make it back to her place! Talk about “one step back”…
Reminds me of a somewhat similar situation when I was working at a place about 500 yards from where I lived. Because of the short distance from home, my mom would typically bring me dinner every night because I was still living with her at the time.
One night, four months or so after I had started there, she brought me in a plate and we stood there talking for a few minutes before she left and a moment or two later, a semi-regular customer came over and asked me if that was my lover by way of conversation.
My eyes almost popped out of my sockets… I was 20 at the time and people typically told me I looked even younger. My mom was 48 and, in my opinion, looked every year of it, no offense to her of course.
After I regained my composure, I told her no and informed her of our relationship and I think she was even more embarassed than I was stunned.
Oy.
Ah-hem… I happen to be one of those who doesn’t really like movies that much. I go to ones that I’m VERY interested in, but for the most part, I avoid them like the plague, at least at movie theaters. It’s usually too loud, it’s WAY too expensive, and you can’t pause to take a potty break. They’re also an abysmal way to spend a first date, IMO, since you don’t really have time to get to know the person.
My very first date–it was the beginning of my senior year in HS, and one of my male friends asked me out. He took me for pizza and a movie. (This was pre-VCR days, so the only way to watch a movie was to go to a theater.) I was extremely nervous, mainly because I was afraid he’d find out that this was my first real date, so I hardly said a single word the entire evening. He didn’t ask me out again until after we graduated, although we remained good friends. After we graduated and left for different colleges, I admitted to him how nervous I had been and why. We did actually start dating seriously and very nearly got married.
The Date From Hell
Fool me once, shame on you.
Fool me twice, shame on me.
But screw me up threetimes?
I’m 14 and take this girl, age 13, to a Saturday afternoon movie matinee. I hitched rides over to her house and then we rode the bus to the movie. I ran into some older guys I knew in the movie. They’re with dates and also have a car. The movie gets over and the guys offer us a ride. I ask the girl and she says she doesn’t have to go straight home, so we ride around awhile, get some cokes, pretty soon it’s getting late in the afternoon. I ask her again if she needs to get home, but she says not. We go to a pizza place and get some pizza, hang around talking to other kids and time passes. I ask again about her getting home, but she insists everything’s fine. “Do you think I’m a little kid or something?” So by about 9:30 I’m really tired of hanging out with her and get my buddy to drive us to her house. Her mom meets me in the yard, cussin’ and screamin’ about “What have you done to my daughter? She was supposed to come straight home from the movie” and so forth.
To top it off, her dad was a Police Captain, and he was out lookin’ for us. :eek: So I didn’t figure to see her again.
Two years pass…
Now I’m 16 and just got my own car. I go to this big-ass dance downtown that some civic group is putting on. I just go by myself, to check it out. I’m standing around talking to some buddies and somebody taps me on the shoulder, and there she is. She’s lookin’ real good. She has really, uh, blossomed in the two years since I’ve seen her. She’s got a walking cast on one foot, says she broke it somehow but she can still slow-dance.
About 11:00 the dance gets over and two girls she rode there with come to get her. She wants me to take her home instead. My better instincts tell me not, but she’s hanging onto my arm and lookin’ great, and well, you know. I cave and say I’ll ride her home. Then she says she heard me talking about a beach party, and I should taker her to the beach party. I ask point blank: “Will there be trouble like last time?” “Oh, no” she says. “I was little then. I’m 15 now. I don’t even have a curfew or anything.”
So off to the beach party we go. A little after midnight I get nervous and take her home anyway, over her strenuous objections.
I’ve just about got her broke-footed self to the front door when her mom bursts through the door screaming: “You were supposed to come home with your girlfriends right after the dance! Where…” About that time her mom got a good look at me and recognition crossed her face. “YOU! You again!”
I just turned around and hauled myself out of there. I don’t know if her dad was looking for us or not that time.
Two more years pass…
Now I’m 18 and home on leave from the Air Force. My little sister is having a pool party Saturday night and wants me to come and bring some music. Except all my music is back at the Air Base, and I really don’t want to spend my Saturday night hangin’ out with my sister’s 14 year-old friends at a pool party. A-Ha! I’ll call a girl that has some music and take her to the pool party. Problem solved. Except every girl I call is either gone off to college or has somethin’ else going on or is working that night or whatever. My fingers took on a life of their own, leafing through the phone book to her name and number. Why the hell not? She’s 17 now, can’t possibly be any problems, right?
I call her and she’s all happy and glad to hear from me and sure she’d love to come and we can bring her music and on and on.
Me: “Umm, can you just meet me somewhere? I don’t think your mom likes me.”
She: “Mom and Dad will be out real late tonight. They’ll be gone before you get here. Just come on. Besides, don’t be silly. I’m 17 now and all that was a long time ago.”
So I go get her, and again, she’s really lookin’ good. I mean she’s lookin’ FINE. We get her music and then she says “Wait a minute” and leads me back into her bedroom. She gropes around in the corner between her bed and the wall and pulls out a quart jar of moonshine whiskey. “This is really great stuff. I just got back from North Carolina and my cousin got this for me up there.”
I stop and get us some grapefruit juice to cut the stuff with and some paper cups to drink it out of and I mix each of us a drink. Before we get to the pool party she’s fixed herself two more drinks and I’m tellin’ her to take it easy, she gonna get trashed.
We get to my sister’s pool party and my wonderful date keeps on drinkin’ and I hide the stuff but she finds it and pretty soon she’s knee-walkin’ drunk. I load her into my car and get her out of there before my mom notices her condition.
In the car, I roll the window down and tell her to hang her head out, so when she pukes it’ll be outside. She rides with her head out until she has to puke, at which point she pulls her head back inside and pukes all over herself and me and the car.
I stop and take my shirt and tee-shirt off and wipe the mess up as best I can.
Then she comes to enough to tell me how to find the house of some friends of hers.
A young married couple lives there. It’s pretty embarrassing, walking their drunk young friend up to their door, me with no shirt on and all. The lady of the house puts Date From Hell in the shower and rinses her clothes and puts them in the dryer. While the clothes are drying, they pour black coffee down her.
Then she’s as straight as she can be gotten in a short time, and I have a great idea. It’s still pretty early. I’ll rush her home, before her folks get back, put her in bed and get my butt out of there.
On the drive to her house, she cuddles up real close to me, lays her head on my shoulder and starts runnin’ off at the mouth: “Every time I go out with you I have a great time. The first time I ever rode in a car without adults it was with you and the first time I ever stayed out after midnight it was with you and now the first time I ever get trashed it’s with you. You should take me out lots more often! We always have a fun time. I never have as much fun with anybody else. From now on I’m only goin’ out with you.”
At her house, I’ve got the girl under one arm and her music under the other arm and her keys in one hand. Somehow I get the door unlocked. We make it three steps inside when her mom comes out from somewhere in the back of the house. Mom says: “Where have you been? You were supposed to stay home tonight!” Then the girl lunges out of my arm, staggers to her mom, throws her arms around her mom’s neck and says: “Hi Mom. We had a Blaaasst!” Mom finally looks at me, recognizes me, and this time she’s speechless. I drop the music stuff on an end table, run to my car and tear off.
Back at the pool party I’ve got to take my sister and several of her little friends home. These girls are mostly 13/14 years old. They get in and it’s “Ooh, your car smells like throw up. What happened?”
After I delivered my load of kids, I went home, packed my stuff and left for the Air Base that night. I figured her Dad would really be lookin’ for me this time.
I never saw her again, but if there’s a hell and I wind up there, Yvonne will be waitin’ for me…
John Carter o’ Barsoom, that’s like a three-act play by Sam Shepherd, only better.
Ok,…time to dredge up an embarrassing moment.
About eight years ago I asked this girl I was interested in on a date. During the date I came down with a nasty flu. I was doing my best to hide my discomfort but I was getting very gassy. My attempt to relieve the pressure went very wrong and I farted loudly. There was also an unpleasant odour. My date did not say anything but, by her body language, I could sense her discomfort.
What did I learn from this?
- Farting on the first date (accidental or not) is a deal breaker.
On my first real date with my boyfriend (we’d met a few weeks before any dating ensued) he was going to drive. So we get in the car, turn out on the main road…and he’s so nervous he misjudges a U-turn and busts a tire on the curb. He totally destroyed it. We had to go s-l-o-w-l-y back to his place (it’s not like we’d gotten far!) and I took over the driving.
I think he was convinced that that was it then and there. However, I found it rather flattering that he was that nervous, and since I managed not to be a bitch and laugh my ass off in front of him about it (it was funny, even he admits that now) at the time, he was wrong. It’s been four months now, and things are going swimmingly.
Sometimes things aren’t the disaster they seem to be. Really.
No lightsaber noises, Larry Mudd. Neither of us thought of it.
Ethilrist, I won. I broke her toothpick. I also tend to win animal cracker duels, but none of those have ever been on a date.
That was beautiful 
bamf
Brilliant story!
You, sir, are my hero.