Thanks for all the positive feedback on the previous two Worst Date posts. As crazy as those nights were, it’s fun to go back and laugh at what are now somewhat fond memories.
This time around the blame for the worst date goes to me, so I thought I’d share a few other stories that didn’t quite make the top of the list, but were pretty much my fault:
- For senior prom we had an after party at a friends’ house. This friend had quite a few cats, and I forgot to give my date a heads up about these cats. So while I’m doped up on allergy medicine her face starts to swell to the point that she is crying. The worst part is our friend wanted to get pictures of everyone hanging out before we left. In agreement with my prom date all of those pictures have been tracked down and burned.
- San Diego used to have a great outdoor music festival called Street Scene. For a while it was held downtown, and one of the easiest ways to get downtown and avoid the parking mess was to take the trolley. The trolley ride down was no problem, but the ride back was a nightmare. As soon as the concert was over everyone bolted for the trolley, making for a cramped ride. My date was claustrophobic and started to have a near panic attack in the middle of the packed trolley car. She ended up fighting back tears while curled up in the fetal position while I tried to console her and apologize for being too cheap to pay for parking.
- Same girl from the previous story. I manage to get another date, so we head to Disneyland for the day. After a good time at the park, we spend 30+ minutes looking for my Bronco in the catacombs of the Disney parking structure. After a whole day of being bombarded by every Disney character out there, I forgot which character’s parking level we were on. Then we spend another 15 minutes trying to get my Bronco to start, only to realize that it had slipped into drive. I put the car into park, it started right up, she let out a sigh of frustration that still echoes in my head. To top it off we got lost on the way home and ended up adding yet another 45 minutes to the trip. I’m pretty sure that was our last date.
And on to the finale.
Last year a friend of mine invited me to head up the coast and come check out his church. After worship, a big group of of us headed out to lunch. I ended up across the table from a really cute blonde surfer chic, who volunteered with kids and was big into art and baseball. God, kids, art, baseball. Jackpot. Me and Molly talked through most of lunch, and I had a really great time. The problem was, I was dating someone else, and she was nowhere near as fun to be around as Molly. Later that week my friend called me up and said Molly was really into me, and wanted my number. I explained my situation and told him it was probably better I didn’t contact her. The next week I got one of the best break-up lines I’ve ever received (next week’s post is all about great breakup lines) and promptly called back my friend to get Molly’s number.
I told her I had tickets to the Astros/Padres game and asked if she’d like to go with me. She seemed really excited, so we made plans to meet up in Oceanside and carpool down to the stadium. She suggested we meet at Oceanside mall, so fast fwd to me driving up and down the rows of cars looking for Molly. After a while of me calling she picks up her phone, and says, “You silly, (Red flag. Seriously. Who calls a person a ‘silly’?) you’ve driven past me a few times.” I looked across the aisle and see someone waving at me. A short, pale, brunette waving at me.
On the off chance that Molly had been indoors for two straight weeks and dyed her hair, I drove my truck up to her and she hopped right in. This was not Molly.
I was too confused to speak, which wasn’t really a problem because ‘Molly’ wouldn’t have let me get a word in edgewise anyways. For the next 45 minutes we fought traffic down to the ballpark. During that time ‘Molly’ turned transformed from an unexpected letdown, to one of the most annoying people I have ever had the misfortune to meet. She complained about every thing. Ev-ry-thing. Job, school, no friends, no life, gaining weight (not kidding), feeling old, her car, my truck. After a while her voice started to sound like that of the Cryptkeeper. Somewhere along the line I went into nod-and-smile mode, completely checking out of the conversation, all the while wondering if dropping ‘Molly’ off by my old junior high in the hood then heading to the ballgame solo could be considered a felony. Fortunately for her, that would have taken some extra time and I hate missing the first pitch, so I decided to try and tough it through the night and we headed to the game.
We were still early to the game so we went down to the bullpen to see my uncle and let him know we got the tix okay, but not our passes for after the game. My uncle, being a gentleman, greeted ‘Molly’ with a big smile and welcomed us to the game. Great, now my family is going to hear about ‘Molly’ and wonder who she is. After a few minutes my landlord, who happens to be a family friend of 30ish years comes over and greets us as well. After a quick, ” Andwhoooooiiiiiiisthiiiiiisss?” I introduced ‘Molly’ to her. Our landlord, who is a very sweet lady and definitely meant well, gave a great, “Well, isn’t she cute?” No. She isn’t. In fact I’d rather be stuck in a car with an angry velociraptor from Jurassic Park then here with her right now. Fortunately, I was interrupted before I could put my thoughts into words. Unfortunately, I was interrupted by ‘Molly’s’ pastor, who (of course) just happened to be at the same ballgame. At this point I think I literally laughed out loud. While he was doing his version of, “Andwhoooooiiiiiiisthiiiiiisss?” and “You two on a date together?” I checked the ballpark to see where Ashton Kutcher had hidden the cameras, because I was pretty sure I was getting punked.
After a few minutes of my uncle, my landlord, and her pastor conversing about our date we went over to our seats. Finally, some baseball to numb the pain. Around the third inning she got up to use the restroom, so I texted my friend,
- M: What is going on here?
- F: I thought you were on a date with Molly?
- M: Me too.
- F: You get stood up?
- M: No, but I’m not with Molly.
- F: ?
- M: This chic is brunette.
- M: Who was the blonde?
- F: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
- F: That’s EMILY!
[At this point I should interject that I am not good with names. At all. Faces, no problem. Names, not so much. Most of the time it’s pretty laughable when I get someone’s name wrong. Every once in a while it’s embarrassing when I forget or don’t know a student’s name. But never have I had to face such dire consequences for my inability to recall a name.]
F: You’re on a date with the wrong girl?
M: Yeah. Not going so good.
M: Not funny.
F: Very funny.
F: Oh man…
F: It get’s worse!
M: Doubt it
F: Molly and Emily are roommates.
M: You’ve got to be kidding me.
There are certain moments in life that seem to defy the bindings of time and space. Where for a moment you wonder wether or not you are really a character on a sitcom and there is an audience just past an invisible wall.
I went deep into survival mode and ran-out-the-clock for the rest of the game. As soon as the game was over I dropped her off back in Oceanside, and chalked up the night to yet another ‘did that really just happen?’ experience.
I talked to my friend the next day and he sad Molly was telling everybody about our date. Evidently she had been a part of that big group at lunch, and was sitting down the table from us, listening to us talk. In the ultimate ‘hail mary’ pass of my dating career I tracked down Emily’s Facebook account and sent her a message detailing the events of the past few weeks. Emily replied that it did strike her as a little odd that I called Molly when we had such a great time talking to each other. Emily didn’t say anything to Molly though, because Molly had a tough time dating, and there had been several instances where guys that Molly was into were chasing after Emily. I can’t imagine why. I told Emily I still would like to try and go out sometime, but she said that she’d have to talk to Molly first and handle the situation. Nothing really came from that, but I did hear from my friend that the group as a whole wasn’t too thrilled with Emily trying to ‘steal’ one of Molly’s few interests, and I was kind of viewed as a bad guy for letting Molly know I wasn’t interested in her.
The upside is I have now read every book, article, blog post and pamphlet I can get a hold of on learning how to remember names.
One love, one heart.