My strangest date ever

I just got back from my strangest date ever. I’m really tempted to put this in the pit.

I contacted her Sunday but her return email didn’t come till Wednesday…it had her phone number. Since it said she was flexible, call any time, so I did on Thursday night. But she had to put me off because she was in the middle of visiting a friend who had a new big screen TV. I had hoped she would contact me the next day but didn’t.

When I awoke this morning, I planned to call her but I never figured on asking her out. 48 hours seems like the minimum advance notice. Around 10:30 AM, I called—oops, woke her up. I guess she went to bed late but didn’t pry into the why. She was very glad to hear from me, however, and said so. “I felt bad that I couldn’t talk the other night…”

We talked for 1 hour 45 minutes. I won’t say it was totally magical but it had its moments. I said I’d like to get to know her and she said when? I was about to say, “Maybe next weekend we could do something” when she said, “Maybe tonight?” I said sure, suggested some putt putt and she said she loved putt putt.

“When should we meet? I mean, do you have church in the morning?”

“Oh, wait—isn’t today Friday?”

“No, it’s Saturday.” [I didn’t pry but I discovered she’s unemployed and I think probably on disability…long story]

“Oh, well…church tonight at 5:00…”

Yadda yadda. First she was going to skip church, but I thought we could get together after church; she said before would be better. Fine. She wanted me to pick her up at 2:00.

I’m driving up to her complex when my cell rings. She’s running late. No problem.

I was wondering whether this was a “date” or whether we were going out as friends. Either way was okay. She comes out maybe 5 minutes late, no big. She kisses me on the mouth—no tongue but it had a bit of emphasis behind it, not at all a quick peck. Strong hug. Note to myself: this is a date.

“I’m so sorry…my cousin called and we got to talking. I looked at the clock. I said, ‘Oh no! My date’s going to be here in 10 minutes and I’m not even ready!’” Note to myself: yep this is a date!

So we get in the car. She takes my hand, squeezes it. I have a 5 speed so I needed that hand but throughout our time together, she occasionally takes it.

I was surprised they wanted $15 for two for Putt Putt, but ok. We had fun; more handholding, occasional kiss, yadda. A bit of mild innuendo, e.g. “I know how to swing…wait, not that kind of swing!”

Afterward we’re trying to navigate to a restaurant she wanted to go to. We got on the wrong road, and turning around isn’t easy, nor is finding the turn off once you’ve turned around, so we decide to improvise a route back. “Man,” she says, “I’m hungry!” But it turns out that part of the reason she wants this restaurant is that they had set aside a table and “named” it for her mother, when she was alive. So besides eating there, my date wanted to know if it were still named for her.

We fail horribly at finding a different route, but she realizes we’re heading toward her mother’s place. She’s a bit weepy. “She was my best friend; I don’t know how I can ever get over losing her.” I notice that as we’re driving there, sometimes she speaks of her in the present, as if her mother is still alive.

Waiting at a long stoplight, she says she doesn’t date. I look at her; she does some weird little shiver of the shoulders, like, ‘Surprised you, didn’t I?’ She continued, “Yeah, my friend said, ‘Well, you see some men.’ Yeah. ‘Do they buy you dinner?’/Yeah. ‘Do you kiss them?’/Yeah. ‘Then what are you doing?’/ Hanging out.” I thought, ‘When you came out late, you said that you told your cousin your DATE would be here in ten minutes. What was that?’

“Some expert said that you need at least eight hugs a day. I like hugging people; I’ll even hug strangers. But I guess some guys get the wrong idea about that.” I say, very mildly sarcastically, that I can’t imagine why.

Her mother passed away back around Easter but the place is for sale and she needed to do some things. Frankly, she can’t face the empty place alone. She’s the only relative in the area so till the place sells, it’s up to her to check in. Only she hasn’t been doing it.

I notice some black garbage bags near the entrance to the house. They don’t look good—like maybe there’s some food or whatever that should have gone to the curb awhile ago.

We go in and she’s teary-eyed for parts of it. I don’t know what she really did while we were there. Maybe just made that sure lights were on, that nobody had broken in, etc. And she showed me the boxes that have both her parents’ ashes in them—postal boxes, presumably with urns inside. Mmmkay.

We leave, lock the door. She crosses the street and I think she’s telling the neighbor to please keep an eye on it for her. She returns and starts dragging a garbage bag to the street. “He said he thought it would be okay if these sat by the curb till Monday. In some places they fine you—I didn’t want to get a ticket.”

And then, by virtue of her moving a bag, I smelled the worst thing I ever smelled in my life. If you took some cat diarrhea, mixed it with the rankest vomit you could find, etc., then let it ferment—well, that still would be cologne compared to this. I don’t hurl easily but for a moment I wasn’t sure I would keep my stomach contents down. This was an entity.

Chivalrous imbecile that I am, I helped her by dragging two myself. I had one bright moment in realizing that if either of these heavy bags broke, a shitstorm of putrefaction might be unleashed. Hence, I dragged them across the grass.

She did not; she lifted. And while neither of hers actually broke, there was apparenty a leak in the bottom so that some nasty goo landed on her leg, sock, and shoe.

“Well, let’s go,” she said.

“Um, do you smell that? You got some on you.”

“Oh geez, I did.”

We unlock and go back in. She’s wiping with a wet paper towel; I’m not paying much attention. “OK, let’s go.”

As she’s walking out, I notice a big splash of ‘puree’ on the back of her leg, discoloration on her shoes that should have been obvious to her, etc.

“Um, I think you want to try that again.”

She looks. “Oh, wow.”

So she goes back to the kitchen, takes off her leather tennis shoe, and washes it in the sink, wipes her leg.

Finally we get back in the car. We can still smell it. The sock, right. She says something about dinner and I say, “I—wonder if you want to take a shower before church.” If I had been sharper, or had given a fuck, I would have said that restaurant probably wouldn’t have welcomed us. Oh well, served the purpose.

“Oh, you’re probably right. Yeah, the smell is stronger now. OK, let’s skip dinner.”

“Man, that was about the worst thing I ever smelled.”

“Yeah, it had been sitting there for about two months.”

I’m thinking, :eek:

Back at her place I drop her off, glad that the stench will be leaving my car. “I had fun, thanks! Let’s do it again some time!” No kiss, hug, anything, though at this point I didn’t really care any more.

I feel kinda bad for her. But not bad enough to go out with her again. Ever.

[going to hell]Maybe it was her parents in the bags![/going to hell]

At this point, I can’t rule that out.

Thanks…now I’ll never get to sleep tonight!:smack::mad::wink:

Oh dear, that was dreadful. Good thing you didn’t find out about the crazy several dates in. Wow.


Funny thing is, I was psyched. I didn’t know her well but thought she was cute, she was interested in me, hey, could be something here…

That date only lasted just over 2 hours. Imagine if I’d planned a big night on the town or something.


Okay, but was she hot? :stuck_out_tongue:

Why so much talk about church? Where did you meet her?

We belong to a singles group. It isn’t strictly dating; we get together and go bowling, dancing, whatever. It’s great, even if you aren’t “looking.” I’ve never been one to go to a movie or restaurant alone, for instance, so it’s an instant group to do things with, make some friendships, yadda.

I first met her there, months ago, when she asked me to dance. Long story, but I pretty much bungled it: I should have sat and talked with her after. 99% of the time a dance means nothing, but this may have been in the 1%.

Anyway our paths haven’t crossed much since, and I wondered if she’d dropped out. When I ran into her last weekend, I teased her about “avoiding me” (which is really silly since we’d spoken maybe thirty words to each other before that).

She said she wasn’t avoiding me; actually, her mother had died. Who knew I could get both feet in my mouth? All that aside, she probably only went to an event about every two months even before her mother died.

I’m guessing she’s Catholic; I used to date one and I know sometimes they go to Saturday night mass instead of Sunday. The church issue just came up because apparently Saturday is her regular time to attend.

Or it could be that once she realized that it’s Saturday, it dawned on her that she had a “hang out” with someone else tonight. Wishful thinking on my part? Maybe.

Gads! Now you got me thinking about it.

Actually, it also ran through my mind while I was reading the OP.

But to the OP, so you’re not ever going out with her again because of the stuff in the garbage bags or the stuff she said about other dates or other stuff or all of the above?

Cause besides thinking it was the mother in the bags, it didn’t sound all that freaky to me, but maybe that’s just me.

While I was reading the OP, I thought exactly the same thing.

See you in hell.

C’mon, lots of gals bring their dates home to meet the parents! :smack:

What is scarier is to think that in the bags were her former dates! :eek:

And there was a spare one for her current date…after…

I thought it, too. But then I thought the OP would have called it something other than a “strange” date.

Not that it wouldn’t be strange, but because there are other adjectives that would be more appropos.

Are you kidding?

Someone who runs hot and cold about whether it’s a date or not, says out loud that they don’t date, but kisses you and all that doesn’t raise any red flags for you?

She sounds like far too much drama to bother with, in my opinion. I’m glad the OP ended the thread saying he wasn’t going to see her again. Don’t go down that road, because it probably won’t get any less weird from here.

I thought it was bizarre was when she said she didn’t date, yet still wanted me to take her to dinner. I mean, it might have made sense if I were a jerk and she said she didn’t date, then didn’t bring up dinner, and that was the way she chose to end the date.

I know not all dates turn into relationships, and I know some guys want sex on the first date, but it was still out of line. I gave her no reason to think I expected either of those, so that would be presumptuous on her part.

I’ll take it at face value. She needs to see people but doesn’t want to get burned. If anybody wants sex or a relationship, she can play the “We’re just hanging out” card. But maybe she hopes some guy will keep hanging out until it turns into a date. But she’ll keep the option of saying it doesn’t mean anything.

I don’t think she’s a bad person. My best guess is that she’s grieving and that’s making her incredibly self-centered. She’s been through a lot besides that, e.g. she isn’t working at the moment so she doesn’t interact a lot. But that gives her time to dwell on her misfortunes. She’s so into that suffering that she doesn’t see what a poor date she is for the other person. It’s probably one of those things where when she’s over the worst of it, she’ll look back at this date and be ashamed.

IMO you get exactly one chance at a relationship. Most people (everybody?) wants to make a good first impression. A minor snafu, sure, those things happen, but there’s no erasing a date like this and starting fresh.

Yeah, I totally thought it was her parents in the bags.

Are you serious?

How is “bringing your date to your dead parents’ house because you haven’t been there to check on it in a while” anything but a totally and completely freaky and inappropriate first date activity?

And even leaving that part out–the rest of her behavior is freaky and bizarre too. Who acts like that?

lobotomyboy–why did you agree to take her to her dead parents’ house in the first place? She couldn’t have been that cute.

But yeah. Bad date, dude!

lobotomyboy63, it’s a hard way to learn this leason, but you should always know if it’s a date or not beforehand. You know, by asking her what she considers it if you’re unsure. Maybe you would have gotten the odd ramblings about not dating and 8 hugs before you commited to visiting the crypt she dragged you to.

When I wrote the OP, I went as far as I could. Partly it was what I could tolerate to write. But also I mean dayum, a lot of people prolly looked at the sheer length of it and said, “Nah, there must be something shorter to read in here!”

Like I said, she told me that we were not that far from her mom’s place. In retrospect, we drove another 15 minutes to get there. :dubious: Maybe she’s geographically challenged or maybe it was just a convenient excuse.

In any event, I’ll own that I’m too understanding. In a way, it didn’t seem that weird. I thought she’d check the mailbox, we’d be in and out, etc.

But even though it turned out strange, I don’t regret doing it. It’s hard to explain, so let me invoke the Partridge Family. There was an episode where some novelist or detective bet the family that he could find them anywhere they went. So they got in the bus and tried to hide but he kept turning up and they couldn’t figure out how he was doing it.

Then they found out that he had planted a bug on the bus. Someone (Danny?) said they should destroy the bug, but cooler heads prevailed. They let the guy think they hadn’t discovered it. They sat in their kitchen, with the mic in front of them, talking like they were driving up to the lake, knowing he’d be listening and be misdirected.

Along those lines, especially in something like a first date situation, I’ll always give people enough rope to hang themselves. Some would say, “What? What kind of date is this?” and then the other person would be all ashamed or something, clam up, and hide the weirdness. But I don’t even react outwardly: I want to see just how far she’ll go. Perhaps my willingness emboldened her to make the remarks about it not being a date, but just “hanging out.” Had I shamed her, maybe I never would have heard that. Surely the hanging out bit is worth knowing.

One payoff is that I get closure. I don’t question if I bailed too early, that maybe the situation could have worked, etc.—and believe me, I’m fond of doing that. But I’ll also own that under certain conditions, I don’t mind.

I was posting in the “Why don’t girls like nice guys” thread and I’ll tell you what: I really am a nice guy. I know that carries some very negative connotations but hey, I get overlooked all the time, so…fuck it. If it’s true, it’s hardly worth bragging about, you know?

As long as this woman doesn’t hound me, stalk me, whatever, I’m ok. She’s dealing with some heavy shit—which is why this didn’t end up in the pit—and I helped her out a bit. I think of it as being “Christian” but if you want to think of it simple kindness, that’s fine by me. To me, you shouldn’t give because you expect something back; I put some positive karma into the universe, and that’s enough. Not that I’d repeat the situation again, mind you…

And I really embrace the idea that I should be glad I got the message loud and clear before getting too involved. Would that all situations were that cut and dried, eh?

BTW no, she wasn’t that cute…is anybody? But to clarify: her father died about ten years ago. Her mother had kept the ashes and the mother’s cremains were recently mailed.

Well, now you know she was planning to ditch you in 2 months anyway… :eek: :frowning:

Thanks for the post, elfkin477, but I wonder about this. I thought my approach was “hip.” I grew up in a small-town; we always asked directly for a date but in my present megapolis environs and in this day and age, maybe that isn’t the way to go.

I suspect that it’s easier not to ask for a “date” but rather, to “get together” and see what happens, especially when you don’t know each other very well. When she started treating it like a date, ok, the lady has chosen, so it was up to me to decide, do I want to go there or not? BTW I liked how she waited until we were 5 minutes from the crypt before informing me that this wasn’t a date.