The Anti-Valentine's Day Blogfest
Feb. 15 Post your worst Valentines Day or worst date story–don’t have one? Lucky you! Not only have you never wasted precious hours of your life but you get a chance to write fiction. Make one up!!!
Okay, I'll leave it up to you to decide whether or not this is true.
When I was in HS, I got set up on a date. It's a little unfortunate, since I can't remember his name, but let's call him Kurt. Kurt and I talked on the phone a couple of times planning the evening. We decided to meet at the mall on the south side of the city—a mall 35 minutes from my house. We would meet outside of the food court, and then leave from there to go to dinner. Kurt wanted to go to this great place for dinner that I'd never heard of, an Italian place with tasty breadsticks. Then we'd go see a movie. Seems like a pretty reasonable date, no?
So, we meet at the mall. First impression: lack of understanding of a washing machine. Holey, threadbare flannel shirt over a stained white T-shirt and wrinkled jeans. And I'm not positive he had showered recently, but I might be projecting that in my memory. Not particularly someone who cares about their first impression, though, that's for sure.
We agreed to leave one car at the mall and take the other one to dinner and then to the movie, and he insisted—being the man (this is important, I promise)—that he should drive. That was fine by me, because it was cold and beginning to snow, and my old 1967 Dodge Dart didn't have the most functional heating system. So we went to his car. It was a mess inside, with old, empty fast food cups, papers, blankets, and general dirty crap. He had to spend a moment cleaning off the passenger seat before I could get inside... after he had suggested that he drive.
Notice, we haven't even gotten to the real date yet.
So he takes me to the amazing Italian restaurant with fantastic breaksticks: *drumroll* Fazoli's. It was new to the area, and I had never heard of it before. I had been expecting table clothes and candles and nice food, not a counter where you order and then sitting while they appease you with breadsticks until the food comes. This, to me, is not a date spot. Sorry, but it's NOT. And while we're waiting in line to order he says to me, "Oh, and we're going Dutch, right?" My thought, "Wait, you want to be the man and drive your shitty car, but you don't want to be the man and pay for my cheap meal at this fast food place that's a perfect date spot?"
And I already knew this couldn't go well. Duh!
While we ate, it started snowing rather heavily. I suggested that maybe we skip the movie (no, I swear, I had NO ulterior motives), but he insisted that it wasn't that bad. Even as he drove at 20 MPH from the restaurant to the movie theater, he insisted we see the movie. But then we had a good 40 minutes at the theater to wait until we could ENTER the movie theater, and what did I do? Watch the blizzard roll in. I told him in no uncertain terms that I needed to go since I lived so far away and I needed a while to get home on the freeway, and he refused because we'd already paid for the tickets. I offered to pay for his, and he turned me down. So we watched the movie—luckily I don't remember what it was, but I do sincerely remember hating it, something along the lines of Scream 7052 or so.
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Then he drove me back to the mall and seemed surprised when I dashed through the snow to my car without a kiss goodnight. Did I mention he was kinda gross? Even if he'd been the nicest, most cavalier gentleman EVER—which he wasn't, Mr. "Wait Until The Last Minute To Suggest Going Dutch"—I still wouldn't have kissed him because he was GROSS.
It took well over an hour to get home through the snow, more than twice the time it took me to get there. I got home, got in bed, started to pass out from sheer exhaustion from the crazy lack of sense of my evening, and the phone RANG! He called—even though I had told him he could never call after 9:30 because my mother went to bed early, and it was sometime between 1:30AM and 2—to be sure I got home okay. Then he decided to rehash all the positive parts of the date.
Okay, I'll give him this: he seemed concerned. But I was so tired and so annoyed and so at the end of my fuse, I hung up on him. And then I got in trouble the next day because the phone had rung so late. And then I screened all of my phone calls for months and avoided his number.
So that's the worst date of my whole life. I don't have much else that even compares, but I'll have to save it for the next anti-valentine's day :)
Any bad date stories out there that you'd like to share?



