Horror Stories
Here's something no one has mentioned yet. Describe your worst date ever. I'll go first.
Back when I was at Grossmont College (aka Harvard on the Hill), I met a girl named Shannon in a theater arts class, and I was immediately attracted to her. Let's see...if anyone saw the movie "The Village," she looked exactly like the blind girl (Ron Howard's daughter). Anyway, we started hanging out during breaks and talking on the phone. After about a month of this, I decided I was going to just go for it and ask her out. I have to admit I was utterly shocked when she accepted (I've always been one to expect the worst-case scenario). I intended to do the usual "dinner and a movie" cliche, but Shannon suggested that since one of the class requirements was to attend a play (three plays, actually), we'd catch one on campus (she had a Friday late-afternoon class), and then get dinner afterward. We decided I'd meet her at the theater, and then we'd go to dinner together.
I showed up at the theater a little early, and I was standing there examining the cast photos when I realized how un-romantic the evening was beginning to look. The play was the story of John Merrick--the Elephant Man. Great, I thought. The freaking Elephant Man. If that doesn't make someone feel like making out, I don't know what will. Shannon showed up a few minutes later and I was nearly struck dumb by how incredible she looked. I believe the expression is "dressed to the nines." I, of course, figured that since the play was on campus, I'd go casual--Jeans and a long sleeve shirt. My only concession to dressing up was tucking it in. I think all I could manage in the way of greeting was, "uh, hi."
We made our way to the box office I reached for my wallet, realizing to my profound horror that it wasn't there. I'd left it on the seat of my car after driving through an ATM. "Aw, crap," I muttered.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"I left my stupid wallet in the car!"
"Don't worry about it," she smiled. "You can get the next one."
Cool, I thought. There's going to be a next one. Still, I was uber-embarrassed. I looked like one of the Dukes of Hazzard, and I didn't have my wallet. But, I figured, I could make up for it at dinner.
Wrong.
The play lasted until 1045, and by the time we got out after chatting with a couple of classmates, we realized two things: we were both utterly starving, and the only place open late that was anywhere close was Denny's. So we go to Denny's, and over our burgers, we start having this totally in-depth conversation. Life, the universe, everything. Cool, I think. I'm really starting to like her. Then, we start talking about our favorite times of the year. I say mine is Christmas and she frowns. Then we start talking a little about religion, and I realize why. Her entire family had been Jehova's witnesses for GENERATIONS. She'd recently been questioning her "faith" and had fallen away from it some. But she still felt strongly enough about it to start expounding on its virtues. To start proselytizing. I began to drift away on a sea of rhetoric, trying mightily to focus on the fact that this amazingly attractive girl seemed to be interested in me. She really was the most attractive person I'd ever been out with. I paid attention for a while, but even though I wasn't a Christian at that point, I knew enough of the gospel to know there was something awry. So I fell back on my old high school defense mechanism. I started thinking about baseball. I nodded my head when it seemed appropriate, but I was really replaying the 1996 playoffs that the Padres had with Houston. Just try to remember she's beautiful, I kept telling myself. It's enough.
I was at the end of the playoff series when I realized Shannon had stopped talking.
"What do you think?" she asked.
I think your religion is nuts, I thought. That little magazine you guys always try to get people to read? The Watchtower? Also nuts. But I think you're pretty freaking hot, so I'm going to try and ignore that stuff...
What I said was, "I don't know, really. It's a lot to think about. Still dealing with my baptist issues."
So I paid the check and we left. I dropped her off at her car with a hug and a promise to see her again, soon. I wasn't sure about that, but I figured I could probably resist the brain washing a while longer.
There were actually two more dates. The next was lunch at Souplantation. After that, one more play, this time even more romantic--Oedipus Rex.
That was it. I didn't think I could afford deprogramming...
Back when I was at Grossmont College (aka Harvard on the Hill), I met a girl named Shannon in a theater arts class, and I was immediately attracted to her. Let's see...if anyone saw the movie "The Village," she looked exactly like the blind girl (Ron Howard's daughter). Anyway, we started hanging out during breaks and talking on the phone. After about a month of this, I decided I was going to just go for it and ask her out. I have to admit I was utterly shocked when she accepted (I've always been one to expect the worst-case scenario). I intended to do the usual "dinner and a movie" cliche, but Shannon suggested that since one of the class requirements was to attend a play (three plays, actually), we'd catch one on campus (she had a Friday late-afternoon class), and then get dinner afterward. We decided I'd meet her at the theater, and then we'd go to dinner together.
I showed up at the theater a little early, and I was standing there examining the cast photos when I realized how un-romantic the evening was beginning to look. The play was the story of John Merrick--the Elephant Man. Great, I thought. The freaking Elephant Man. If that doesn't make someone feel like making out, I don't know what will. Shannon showed up a few minutes later and I was nearly struck dumb by how incredible she looked. I believe the expression is "dressed to the nines." I, of course, figured that since the play was on campus, I'd go casual--Jeans and a long sleeve shirt. My only concession to dressing up was tucking it in. I think all I could manage in the way of greeting was, "uh, hi."
We made our way to the box office I reached for my wallet, realizing to my profound horror that it wasn't there. I'd left it on the seat of my car after driving through an ATM. "Aw, crap," I muttered.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"I left my stupid wallet in the car!"
"Don't worry about it," she smiled. "You can get the next one."
Cool, I thought. There's going to be a next one. Still, I was uber-embarrassed. I looked like one of the Dukes of Hazzard, and I didn't have my wallet. But, I figured, I could make up for it at dinner.
Wrong.
The play lasted until 1045, and by the time we got out after chatting with a couple of classmates, we realized two things: we were both utterly starving, and the only place open late that was anywhere close was Denny's. So we go to Denny's, and over our burgers, we start having this totally in-depth conversation. Life, the universe, everything. Cool, I think. I'm really starting to like her. Then, we start talking about our favorite times of the year. I say mine is Christmas and she frowns. Then we start talking a little about religion, and I realize why. Her entire family had been Jehova's witnesses for GENERATIONS. She'd recently been questioning her "faith" and had fallen away from it some. But she still felt strongly enough about it to start expounding on its virtues. To start proselytizing. I began to drift away on a sea of rhetoric, trying mightily to focus on the fact that this amazingly attractive girl seemed to be interested in me. She really was the most attractive person I'd ever been out with. I paid attention for a while, but even though I wasn't a Christian at that point, I knew enough of the gospel to know there was something awry. So I fell back on my old high school defense mechanism. I started thinking about baseball. I nodded my head when it seemed appropriate, but I was really replaying the 1996 playoffs that the Padres had with Houston. Just try to remember she's beautiful, I kept telling myself. It's enough.
I was at the end of the playoff series when I realized Shannon had stopped talking.
"What do you think?" she asked.
I think your religion is nuts, I thought. That little magazine you guys always try to get people to read? The Watchtower? Also nuts. But I think you're pretty freaking hot, so I'm going to try and ignore that stuff...
What I said was, "I don't know, really. It's a lot to think about. Still dealing with my baptist issues."
So I paid the check and we left. I dropped her off at her car with a hug and a promise to see her again, soon. I wasn't sure about that, but I figured I could probably resist the brain washing a while longer.
There were actually two more dates. The next was lunch at Souplantation. After that, one more play, this time even more romantic--Oedipus Rex.
That was it. I didn't think I could afford deprogramming...
posted by Anonymous at 10:14 AM
3 Comments:
Awesome. Never really heard it in its entirety before. What is it about guys sometimes?
There is no way I can top Jehovah's Witness girl or a puck to the side of the head, but here is my offering.
About five years ago, I had just gotten out of a long three year relationship and I was still in that moping, feeling-sorry-for-myself stage. After some time of that though, a person begins to get tired of it and it was time to look forward. A friend of mine, being the good well-meaning friend that he is, offered to set me up with someone he knew. Now my friend, who we shall call Terrence, did not have a very good taste in girls. But, going out was better than moping, so I figured why the heck not?
So it is totally a blind date. Another friend of mine is having a party, and we were all set up to go. I pick her up at her place. She's cute. She did not run away when I pulled in the driveway, so far so good.
But then, on the way there, she opens her mouth. Good lord what a filthy mouth this girl had. Not talking about language we might hear on ABC either. We are talking f-bombs, crude remarks, the whole gamut. Now, I have been around some foul-mouthed people in my time. You hear all sorts of things on a basketball court or at work. But she would have made Eddie Murphy in his hey-day blush. Nothing more unattractive than a girl with a filthy mouth.
By the time we got to my friend's place, I was ready to boot her out of my car. I was thinking I got to spend the next three or four hours with this girl. Not to mention the embarrassment of having such a foul-mouth for a date.
At this party, there was a "friend" there and this friend we shall call Fred. Fred was a player. At least Fred thought he was. Fred was the bane of every guy that went to our church. Whenever a new girl showed up at church, Fred would smother them. Fred's favorite subject was Fred. What Fred ate for breakfast. Fred changing his oil in his car. Fred. Fred. Fred. Fred. Fred. It goes without saying, that girls did not stick around Fred too long. Girls did not stick around our church too long because of Fred. And if they did have the courage to stick around, Fred would write them long love letters and songs. He would write them songs and play the songs for them on his guitar. Of course, he couldn't sing and couldn't play, but what did that matter.
Fred also had no respect or honor in regard to his friends. If a guy actually made it to talk to a girl before Fred got to her, Fred would walk up,butt in and take over the conversation. The guy would walk away dejected. Fred never had the opportunity to do this to me...
Until that night.
Fred was there. Fred was between girlfriends. Fred was looking. Of course, Fred was always looking. I wish I could say I intended to do this, but Fred introduced himself to my date. Normally I would have been hacked, but not that night. That night, Fred saved me. Amazingly, they hit it off while I snuck off. Let's see, I did not even have to take her home, and they provided us with a soap opera for a few months. Got to say, that worked out fine. Those two really deserved each other. :)
that's awesome. The big dude was looking out for you!
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