Memoir of a Bad Dater
Whenever you hear a woman say “I HATE the dating scene!”, if they haven’t dated me, they’ve probably dated somebody just like me. I’ve had several first dates in my life. I’ve had two second dates. One of those second dates went badly…went nowhere. The other second date went very well, and is still going on its 19th year. I credit its success to Eva’s tolerance, not to my dating skills. That there even was a second date is a miracle, as usually when a guy shows up to the first date 45 minutes late with Cheetos powder handprints all over his jeans, a second date is out of the question. To kick off the 2012 London Olympic spirit, I share for you here my “bad date” Olympic medals.
Bronze Medal – The Holy War
Barb was pretty, and very nice. We were going to see a movie that night, “Back to the Beach” with Frankie and Annette, Bob “Gilligan” Denver, and Barbara “June Cleaver” Billingsly. First we stopped for a light dinner. Somewhere along in the small talk, she threw me the opening pitch.
“Wiz, do you believe in God?”
“Yes, sort of in my own way.”
“You should come to my church.”
“Thanks for the invite, but as I said, I believe in my own private way.”
She stared at me, with a nearly threatening look. “You should come to my church.”
“Again, no thank you.” Each syllable was emphasized.
“I think you are being close minded.”
At this point I knew I didn’t need to start saving for a wedding ring.
“Barb, for me, will you NOT go to church for a few weeks. Just to try it, with an open mind?”
“You don’t worry about going to hell?”
“I feel like I’m there already.”
Those were the closing words of our date. The movie was cute though.
Silver Medal – Guilty by Association
An old college buddy of mine, Scott suggested a double date: He and his wife Diane, and me and his wife’s beautiful younger sister, Jenny. Sounded great!
Something you should know. Scott is a great friend, but can sometimes be a real ass. Got it?
So we met at a restaurant. WOW, he wasn’t lying, Jenny was really really pretty. I smiled and said “Hi”, and they all said “Hi” like they were mad at me. We walked in. My stomach was starting to hurt. It turns out they weren’t mad at me, they were mad at each other. More specifically, they were both mad at Scott. We sat down.
I tried “Have you all eaten here before.”
I got three “NO”s.
“Yeah,” Scott said to Diane and Jenny, “Why would you pick somewhere for a first double date when you don’t even know if the food sucks?”
Diane said “Shut up! If you don’t want to f-ing eat, then don’t. I don’t even care.”
“What the hell is your problem?” Scott asked.
“Why do you have to be so mean to my sister?” Diane turned to me. “Wiz, Jenny didn’t pass a test for her career, and Scott was making fun of her.”
“Wiz, ” Scott explained, “She flunked the stewardess test.”
“Flight Attendent you asshole!” Jenny clarified. I liked her.
Scott continued, ” ‘You’re serving beef and chicken, and you run out of beef. What do the rest get?’ “
“NO,” my date defended herself, “the test was harder than that.”
“Like what?”
“Like ‘You’re flying from Chicago to New York City. Name two states you are likely to fly over.’ “
“And you couldn’t do it?”
“No, and you probably couldn’t either.”
“Yes I could Jenny,” Scott said. “Montana.”
“Well fine,” Jenny said, unknowingly flunking again. “So you know the states. YOU go be a flight attendant. Oh, that’s right, they don’t take fat asses or dickheads. Strike two for you.” I was actually starting to love her.
None of us ate much, and since we were going to take two cars to the movie theater, I knew I could try to turn things around. “So Jenny,” I began, “are you going to take the flight attendants exam again?”
“No, I don’t even want to be one. I want to work at a club med or as a model or something… but Wizard?”
“Yeah Jenny?”
“I’m sure you’re nice, but it makes me sick that you’re friends with that asshole. So do you mind if we don’t talk, then sit through the movie, then go home?”
“Uh, yeah, I guess.”
The movie was, appropriately, The Untouchables.
Gold Medal – Green, but Not With Envy
I had liked Nora for a couple of years, but never had the guts to ask her out. I wouldn’t be able to stand her telling me know.
But one day I worked up the courage and asked. SHE SAID YES!!! That’s when I really started getting nervous. She was pretty. Extremely pretty in fact. But she was really nice, and a little bit bizarre, which, in theory, made her a pretty good match for me.
Our date was set for March 17, also known as St. Patrick’s Day. This was a day on which I had traditionally made bad decisions, as the DeKalb, IL police might tell you.
In my infinite wisdom, I decided it would actually make Nora like me more if I painted a little shamrock on my face. I did, with food coloring, but it was hard to do. It didn’t look like a shamrock, and as I tried to keep correcting it, it got bigger and bigger. Eventually, it took over the middle of my face, and still didn’t look much like a shamrock. But I was running late. At the last minute, I realized that if I’m going to date a girl like Nora, I should have a car. But I didn’t have a car.
“Brian,” I asked my roommate, “Can I borrow your mustang?”
“Sure Wiz. Remember, it’s stick.”
I didn’t, and still don’t, drive stick.
I drove about two miles toward sorority row, stalling the car at every stop sign. Eventually I figured out I should stop stopping. I found that I could shift gears, or concentrate on where I was going. At one corner, I was trying to shift from first to second when I realized I was heading right into an NIU Husky bus. I had to decide between hitting the bus or the curb. I hit the curb. The only trace of wisdom I had that day. Eventually I made it to Nora’s sorority house, but I parked about a block away. I decided we would walk to the theater, as I would have felt horrible if I killed my date on the way to the movie.
I knocked on the door. A girl opened it and started laughing when she saw me. In all my traffic troubles I had forgotten about my green face.”
“Um, is Nora around. I’m Wizard.”
She called out to Nora, and quite a few other girls. “THIS is Nora’s date,” she said. I wished I was at home in bed.
Nora came out, and although she looked a little surprised and embarrassed, she had such great character that she grabbed her jacket, mercifully a green jacket, and said “Let’s go, Wiz.”
Before we escaped one of the girls insisted on taking a picture, in case someone didn’t believe the story.
We watch “On Golden Pond,” a movie about a screwed up family whose father is mean, grumpy, and dying. I again forgot about my green face until we walked into the lobby and people were staring and laughing at me.
I brought Nora home. We didn’t have a second date. But I have to say, it was awfully cool that she didn’t all of a sudden come up with a “headache” when I showed up.
I hope to never be single again, because if I am, I’m afraid my dating skills might be a little rusty after all these years.
