12.23.2006

Dud Chronicles



So my little Mystery Date post yesterday got me thinking about my own history of bad dates. For someone who's been in a commited relationship or married for 24 of the 28 years since I had my first date, it is sad that I could have had so many rock-bottom experiences in that arena. Granted, I was complicit in most of these, not only in that I agreed to go out with the losers, but also in that I was predictably intoxicated, which was pretty much the only way I socialized with men at all from the time I was 16 until I quit that at 41.

In any case, I figured it might be fun to tell a few of the stories in the next couple a days and challenge you to top them on your own blogs. You know you want to.

I'm going to start with the professors.

#1:

Dr. Childs was was my history professor at UGA, a scraggly-bearded man you couldn't pin an accurate age on because he had the pinched face and growth-stunted body of one of those guys who started smoking when they were 11. You know the kind--their 28/30 Wranglers scrunch all the way up their slightly bowed legs. In any event, he would have been between 35 and 50, I guess. For reasons best left to a future blog (involving domestic violence, a restraining order, court), I missed the final exam for his class. When I went in to talk to him about it, to see about getting an Incomplete, etc., he kindly offered to let me take the test the next day. While I was busy feeling grateful and relieved, he asked me if I'd like to go to a party with him the coming weekend.

I said ok, duh.

The party was, oddly, mostly students my age (18-19), maybe the history club or something. I don't remember. But I do remember everyone being surprised to see him with me and him acting like we were "a couple." As usual, I consumed many strong beverages to survive the evening and woke up at his place the next day (fully clothed!). All I could think about was how fast I could get out of there politely, but he had already planned out our afternoon. He fixed me breakfast and asked me to go with him to look at apartments--said he was moving at the end of the month and would like to have a second opinion on the rentals.

Go with him I did, and by the time we looked at door #3, with him holding my hand like a million dollar bill, and me finding no escape route, I suggested the place was nicer than the other two, that maybe he would enjoy living there, what with the on-premises laundromat and the highway so convenient to the back yard. At that point, he asked if I would enjoy living in that same apartment, because, really, he was looking for a place for US to live.

Date over.

9 comments:

Anonymous said...

excellent.

i won't be able to participate in your cross-blog plan, but i will be eagerly anticipating the stories of yourself and others.

gross.
i just said "eager."

last night one of my friends called me and kept saying "nougat" over and over again.

is it possible you will post these stories twice a day? i'll be looking for reading material while i put off cleaning.

Anonymous said...

I have a theory that bad dates are as good as or BETTER than good dates...especially if they are just FREAKING awful...I love it when people are socially inappropriate, presumptuous or just, plain odd...it makes my heart sing.

Rupert said...

omg, that is an amazing story, T - seriously - and now I have to consider that perhaps all men ARE jackasses (hee-haw) . . . ya know, if you could chain yerself to a keyboard and tap out all those bad stories (ages 18-41) . . . we're talking screenplay, we're talking options, we're talking sequel!

Tania Rochelle said...

MF--Nougat.

Mary--can't say I agree with your theory.

Gare--it's good for George you have no one to compare her to.

M Ru--you yankin' my chain?

Anonymous said...

That's weird Garey, because she's told me an awful lot of date stories about you. Like that one time.....

Anonymous said...

I have a bad date story... It was my birthday and a "friend" asked if he could cook me dinner for my birthday, and I said that would be nice but it might have to be on friday b/c I had to work on Saturday if that would be ok. He did not like the sound of that b/c he was planning on Sat. Well, I thought we had agreed on Friday, so after not hearing from him all week, I called fri afternoon to see if we were still on...He was really rude and said he didn't get anything to cook, so I said "forget it". He said, "no, it's your birthday you have to do something." He asked if I wanted to come over to his apt and hang out. My reply was, "...and do what?" No answer. So I suggested going out to dinner. Well...to sum it up. He ordered the most expensive appetizer and entree on the menu, ordered a $44 bottle of wine, secretly ordered a dessert for me, and then made me pay for my own and HIS dinner on MY birthday. $150 later, he asked me to stay over. I said thanks, but no thanks!!!! That just added to my list of most awful birthdays ever!!!!!

Anonymous said...

I have two bad date experiences that readily come to mind, one I might put on the blog and the other one so disgusting and horrible that only one other person in the whole world knows about it and she's been paid to keep mum.

And why won't you be able to participate MF? Are you in some kind of witness protection program? Actually...that would make a lot of sense.

Jennifer said...

I'm trying to remember any bad date stories I might have, but none come to mind. I can ususally sense a disaster before I go out with one. I did get stalked by a jackass (hee haw, hee haw, M. Ru Pere) that I met on an airplane. Seems some people think if you hold their carry on bag while they go find the men's room then you are having a relationship.

ktothefe said...

ooohhhh T!! Thank you for sharing that! I'm going to have to agree with Mary--i love it when people are iappropriate and make things slightly uncomfortable! the last date I went on ended up with me and the guy at Swinging Richards!...need i say more.....

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