Although I’m married now, I can still remember what dating was like. Usually it wasn’t too bad…but then, one day….
I met a seemingly nice guy at a church function. We’ll call him Tom. Tom and I talked for a couple of hours and he asked me out. Even though he wasn’t exactly Brad Pitt, I decided to go, as it had been a bit of a dry spell.
The big day came and there I was, waiting for him. The appointed hour came and went and no Tom. Then another hour. Finally, two and half hours late, the doorbell rang. I answered the door and let in a very repentant Tom. He explained that he was in a car accident on the way over and he was very sorry, would I still like to go? Not wanting to waste a good hair day, I went. As we walked to his car, I saw that the passenger side door was crushed in the middle, with the bottom and top of the door pulling away from the car. Tom said that because of the accident, the door would not open and I’d have to get in on his side. Crawling over the stick shift in my mini-skirt, I settled myself in the passenger seat, noting the large gap at the bottom and top of the door, where I could see a good four inches of both street and sky, respectively. (Nothing like picking your date up in style.)
Tom said we would have dinner and then play miniature golf. (What are we, 12?) But first, we had to stop at the ATM! As we searched for an ATM from his bank (so he wouldn’t have to pay that extra $1.50 fee), I heard thunder roll. Suddenly, the clouds burst and we were hit with a major rainstorm—most of which came in through the four-inch gap at the top of the car door. We finally arrived at the ATM with the right half of my body drenched and the right half of my good hair a soggy mess. The ATM was a drive thru on the side of the bank and somehow, Tom pulled in going the wrong direction so the ATM ended up on my side. Instead of just pulling out and going in the right way, Tom insisted on doing it from my side, because he didn’t want to get out and get wet. He leaned over and tried to roll down the window, which wouldn’t go because the door was crushed in. He forced it and shattered the window into my lap. (Oh good. Perfect.) Then he handed me his ATM card, which, by the way, was a thousand years old and had a crack going through the middle. When I asked, Tom insisted that he never had any trouble with it. I got on my knees and crawled halfway out the broken window so that I could stick the card in the machine, which promptly spit it back out. I did this several times until it finally asked for the PIN. I punched in the number Tom told me and the machine says it’s wrong. “Oh, yeah. That’s my old number,” Tom said and gave me a different number. It’s wrong too. Tom squinched up his forehead like he was thinking really hard. Finally, he pulled the correct number from the bowels of his brain and announced that it was definitely the right number. I gently reminded him that if you’re wrong 3 times in a row, the machine eats your card. No problem, he tells me. Definitely the right number. I punched it in and…the machine ate the card. “It ate your card,” I say. “What?” he yelled at me. “What did you do that for? I’ll just have to write a check. I don’t have any cash.” God forbid you should get the money for the date BEFORE the date starts…, I thought as I crawled back into the car.
Rain still falling, we got to the restaurant and ordered. During dinner, though I didn’t get to say much, I noticed that several times he began sentences with, “Well, after I got out of jail…” (Did I really meet this guy at church?) When the waitress brought the check, Tom said, “Will you take an out of state check?” To which the waitress replied “Not without a current driver’s license and check guarantee card.” Tom appeared to be thinking. When I asked what the problem was, he showed me an expired, out of state driver’s license and informed me that the ATM had eaten his check guarantee card. After much pondering, Tom decided that he would have to leave me at the restaurant and drive to the nearest grocery store where he would cash a check. An out of state check with no check guarantee card and an expired out of state driver’s license. (Of course. What a GRAND idea.) He refused to just let me pay, even though I had enough cash and had told him I thought it was a good idea to call it a night. He said, “I’ll just be right back, ok?” And LEFT. So I wait…and wait…and wait. I wasn’t 21 yet, so I just sat there and drank diet Coke while the wait staff looked at me funny. An HOUR later, he returned. With no money. But NOW he has the bright idea to use his credit card, which he told me he was saving as a last resort. (You’re kidding, right?)
By this time, I was wet, tired and cranky. I wanted to go home. But he wouldn’t take me. Unfortunately, I live in a city where you can’t just get a cab. You have to call for one and then it takes an hour. Tom was insisting that we could go play miniature golf and still have a great time. I didn’t know what else to do, so back I crawled into his battered car, (where it had been raining for the last 3 hours), and sat in a puddle of water on the passenger seat. Tom thought it was hilarious.
We got to the indoor miniature golf place, where, while waiting for the people ahead of us to finish the first hole, Tom pulled me into his arms and said, “Admit it—you’re having a great time!” and then tried to kiss me.
That was the last straw.
(You’re saying “THAT was the last straw? What’s wrong with you?” Like I said, it had been a dry spell.)
I promptly excused myself to the ladies room, where I called my best friend and got her to come pick me up while I hid in a stall. I didn’t feel bad for one second for sneaking out on him. I do wonder what he did when I didn’t come back from the restroom. When I saw him at church again (what is this menace doing at church, anyway?), he waved and said hello like it had never happened.
So, that was Sunshine and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Date. Anybody have a worse one?
