Worst Date Ever

Tamara posted a "worst date ever" blog last weekend, and I enjoyed reading about her misery so much that I though I would take her up on the invitation to post my own experiences. Everyone has had terrible dating experiences, let's face it, it's just about the worst situation possible. I mean, two people, who barely know each other, are forced into a situation where they must judge and be judged. Evaluating and performing for someone who you may or may not come to care about, knowing that every word either of you say will be analyzed and mocked or swooned over by the closest companions of the others. It can only turn out badly. It has never (in my experience) turned out well. In fact, all of the friendships and relationships that I treasure have never gone to that dating place. And I am pretty sure that if they had, they would no longer be considered a treasured relationship. I have no doubt that I am the source of "worst date ever" stories. The most frequent response I get at the end of the evening is what I call the "Scared Rabbit". You know when a small, helpless animal is cornered and looking for any escape. That's what my dates look like. And friends who attempt to set me up with someone, beware. Generally the friendship doesn't survive a set-up either. I can openly admit that I am a terrible date. But I have a few winners in my journal as well. And by "winners" I mean losers. That may sound harsh. Just wait.



*names have been changed to protect the innocent. The not-so-innocent have not been offered the same courtesy.

My worst date ever was a blind date. My friends Jill and Paul were the well-meaning offenders. I worked with them, an older couple, up in Roy. Jill though it would be fantastic to set me up with her son's best friend. Paul said that the best friend was a blithering idiot, and I could do better. But Jill was set on it, and insisted. It should be noted that this was the second friend she tried to set me up with. The first time, I jokingly told her that I would go out with anyone as long as they didn't have a prison record. She got very quiet, and said she would think of someone else. So the second one was in order to make me feel better about the first one. His name was Jake. He was 29, just perfect for my 27-yr-old self. And since our ages matched, and we were both single, we must be destined for each other. They gave him my number. He called that night. He asked what I majored in, I told him "Music" His response was that he just loved music. And then he began a 15 minute ramble about the last album he purchased, which vinyl he needed to update, and he even held his cell phone up to the car speakers in his car so I could hear his current selection. You are thinking "that doesn't sound so bad..."

No? Did I mention it was all 80's rock and the occasional early 90's alternative band? So how many of you, when you hear "music major" think "80's rock"?

What? Nobody?

How many of you think "classical training"?

Oh good, most of my friends are not, in fact, blithering idiots. If you were under the impression that I worked 4am custodial for 4 years in order to study Guns N Roses, you have my permission to crawl under your desk and weep for your own ignorance. Then come out and pretend that you knew what I was talking about all along.

Back to the phone conversation.

Jake arranged to pick me up at 6pm on Friday night. He thought mini-golf would be a nice activity. Then he had to go, because his mom wanted him to take out the trash.

He was prompt. 600, on the dot.

We drove to the mini-golf place. It was early spring, but silly me, I assumed he checked on things like this. No. It was still closed for the season. He drove to the next mini-golf place, some story, he drove to two more, you'll never guess, all closed. Now it is 7:30. He has, in the time it has taken to drive to four mini-golf locations, been telling me all about himself. His self-proclaimed greatest skill in life is that he knows how to do the absolute minimum work required at any job. He prides himself on never doing more than absolutely necessary. He brags about the evidence of this skill. What evidence? Well, he has only been fired 3 times. All of his other jobs kept him on because they couldn't think of anything to fire him for. The most recent firing was from a telemarketing place, and he was OK with that because he didn't like them anyways, even if they did pay more than any of his other jobs. Blithering idiot.

By 7:30, I got a word in edgewise and suggested that perhaps mini-golf was not going to work out. My hope was that he would give up and take me home. I should be so lucky.

He decided a movie would be a great substitute. So we began stopping at movie theatres to see what was playing and when. The first movie theatre had nothing beginning for another 45 minutes, so we went to the next theatre. And so forth. For another hour, we drove to every theatre between North Ogden and Layton. By the time we finally got to the Layton Theatre, we could have been half an hour into the movie in Ogden. We got to Layton, he chose a movie that was starting in 35 minutes, because he wanted to have time to run to the store for candy. We went to the store, and he bought himself 3 bags of his favorite candy and some soda. He informed me that since he didn't plan on having to pay for a movie, he didn't have enough money to get anything for me. That's OK, I didn't want to feel indebted to him. When we got out to the parking lot, he asked me to hide his candy and soda in my bag and my coat, so he wouldn't get caught sneaking it in. I told him I felt too dishonest about that. Well, that was a lie, as any of you who have been to a movie with me can attest, I bring entire meals in. But I wanted to see him struggle, so I made him feel guilty. Lovely Passive-Aggressive me. We went back to the theatre and took our seats. The movie began, and suddenly he said "This is a Stephen King Movie". I was aware of that. I was aware because I hate hate hate hate hate horror movies, but was so irritated with him that I hadn't wanted to insist on a later movie. I wanted to be done. So all of the sudden, he says "This is a Stephen King movie. I don't like scary movies."

And in my brain I am thinking "way to go, jerk. It's only been advertised and in theatres for a month now. You would have to live under a rock to not have known that." Blithering Idiot.

Whatever. I was beyond words at this point, so I shrugged and sat there. About halfway through the movie, he leaned over to me and told me the rest of the plot. I asked him how he was so sure and he said "I love this stuff. It's always so cliche and predictable."

Blithering Idiot.

About 10 minutes after his plot reveal, his cell phone rang. He hadn't turned it off. Idiot.

He answered it. In the movie theatre, while the movie was going. Blithering idiot.

It was his mom. He finished the phone conversation, and then he said to me "That was my mom. She says I have to go home and go to bed because I work at 8 tomorrow morning."
And then he got up and left .
That's right. He left the movie. He left the theatre. He left me sitting there. He left because his mom told him to. And I was relieved. I was grateful to have to call my roommate and ask her to pick me up. I was ecstatic that I didn't have to keep thinking about where to put my hands. I was thrilled to no longer have to come up with a polite "uh-huh" ever 7 minutes. I was overjoyed that I didn't have to get back into his car. And most of all, I was giddy that I didn't have to go through the doorstep scene. No awkward attempt at a hug or a handshake.

And there you have it. I have, in fact, been on blind dates since this one, but they were extremely screened and in large groups and the friends who did the setting up had to be present and accountable for their choices. And I invite each of you to consider that next time the thought crosses your mind. Whether it is me or any of you other Single friends, it is only fair that we exact the same emotional punishment from you that you have inflicted upon us.

PS. I would seriously love to hear some of your worsts as well. It helps if we commiserate together.