It’s not too often that I go and have a bad date. I mean, I’ve been on a lot of dates! Just because a first date doesn’t lead to a second one doesn’t necessarily mean that it was bad or anything. It just means that the magic wasn’t there and can still have a great time. On the other side of the coin, though, I’ve been on good dates that went south quickly, seemingly for no reason at all. That’s happened a few times. However, I’ve yet to experience a crap date that ended up going well; and, that, dear readers is what I am going to tell you about today.I don’t think there’s really any wisdom for you to gain from my post on this fine fuzzy day. Just come along for the ride, it’ll be short and to the point, I’m hoping.
Anyway, I’d been talking to this girl, Carla, who I met off the good ol’ PoF site (like Myspace, that site should be dead to me… but it’s gotten me so much ‘play’ over the years that it’s hard to turn a blind eye to the damn thing) and we decided we were going to meet up for coffee. Carla seemed pretty warm to the idea and we were set. We met at this coffee house not too far from the local university. She ended up being about fifteen minutes late, she had gotten lost supposedly. Twenty minutes and less I can forgive actually, call me crazy. I’m sitting there with my coffee when she walks up, we give each other a quick hug. I offer to buy her a coffee or something else, she politely declines and says she’s fine. So we sit down at a table. As I’m pouring over and slurping down my coffee, our eyes meet and there’s a couple moments of awkward silence. I was a bit put off that she didn’t get something to drink, that was part of what we were doing, getting coffee and getting to know one another. Right? Carla wasn’t making it easy for me, so I asked her how she was doing. She goes into a story of how she had some car issues and then issues with her job and then more issues with her living situation… Needless to say, she was starting on a low-note.
I inquired about the job situation, Carla didn’t want to talk about it. As I was about to ask her something else, she cut me off and said, “You know, it’s been a pretty shitty month. I don’t want to talk about it.” Okay. At this point I didn’t notice the scalding hot coffee incinerating my mouth and throat due to the awkward turn our date was decidedly taking. Right about then she laments that the weather isn’t cold enough, “it’s nothing like Oregon,” she says. “Oh really! That’s where I’m from!” I reply, excited we have something in common to talk about. That’s when she tells me about the asshole girlfriend she moved up there with. I mentioned that living with friends can ruin a friendship, that’s when Carla offers that they weren’t just friends, they’d been in a serious relationship for six years. Oh. That’s not what I expected. I don’t have a problem with lesbians or gays and bi-sexuals. Hooray for them! I just know that with a woman who swings from both sides of the plate has more dimensions to understand, I see that as a potential flag. Again, Carla spins on about this relationship and the negativity is bringing me down. I set my coffee down and I mention to her: “Dude, I think you need a stiff drink.” Her face lights up, “Best idea of the week!” Okay then! Let’s go to a bar.
I drive us to a Jazz bar not too far from the coffee house. We set down and have a couple beers and listen to some good music, which was a bad call on my part in hindsight because live and loud music obviously isn’t conducive to good conversation. However, I wanted the reason not to talk as things were just really going nowhere. After a couple songs, the house band takes a break. Then I mention to Carla that I have a long day ahead tomorrow and that I should go home. “You’re lame, that sucks” she exclaims. I’m confused by this. I wasn’t really having a good time and she didn’t seem to be either. She yanks my arm to settle up the tab and says, “I know a great bar around the corner from here.” Away we go to another bar. Carla offers to buy me a shot. I told her she could buy us both a shot, but I get to call it. She agrees. I order a ‘Dead Nazi.’ As an aside the Dead Nazi goes by many names and no one gets it quite right, so I just tell the bartender what’s in it and they make it and say, “Oh! You just ordered a ‘blah blah blah’ or something.” It’s a Dead Nazi and here’s what’s in it: Equal parts Jaeger, Rumplemintz, goldschlager and 151. It tastes like cinnamon and burns like a demon blowing his load in your chest. It’s a nasty visualization, I realize… But it’s about accurate.
The shot lights us both up pretty well by that point. Things have obviously lightened up quite a bit between us and she seems to be having a better time. We’re joking around and I know I’m having more fun. We each get up on stage and do a karaoke number each… I think my rendition of ‘Puff the Magic Dragon’ is top comedy, in my opinion. After Carla’s number we go back to my car and I tell her I need to leave and we go back to her car. I’m parked and we’re talking and I tell her I had a good time and we should do it again. She nods her head and gives me a hug and as I begin to pull away she’s right in my face… So when someone’s really in my face, I’ll kiss em. It could be your pervert Uncle, Sid Touchalot and I’d probably kiss that guy, too! So I kissed her and, man, Carla kissed me back as in she rocked my seat back. I mean, I was liking it, it was surprising. So after some number of hot and heavy moments in the car we both compose ourselves…
We ended up back at my place. I won’t give any details, but I’ll just state that sometimes bad dates can “go good.” Alcohol is the key it turns out, alcohol is key…
Until next time, try not to date rape anyone.
Latest posts by yannibmbr (see all)
- Stemmy’s Romantic Tweets - August 20, 2014
- Perspective is Everything. - August 7, 2014
- Ask the Urban Dater: Shit or Get Off the Pot Edition - August 1, 2014