I have been on plenty of dates with a number of women. All different kinds of girls… smart, not so smart, funny, boring, happy, moody, interesting, attractive, athletic, selfish, cute, and so on…
There have been lots of good times, but also some equally bad times. I can recall some dates that I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone. I’m not kidding, I could hear the theme song in my head as I looked at some of these girls in the eyes. There are bad dates, which we’ve all been on. I’m not talking about those. I am speaking of dates that you literally couldn’t script to be worse.
When I was 23 I met a girl in a bar, actually a club. I went to Avalon with a group of friends. That was clearly mistake numero uno! This was back in the days when I had literally as much game as Brian Scalabrine. My move you ask? ... crickets chirping...I think the only success I had back then was that a girl thought I was cute, came up to me, we got drinks, hit the dance floor… Well, this happened one night out with some co-workers for a little weekend madness. I was probably a little too drunk, but still managing to stay on my feet, communicate in mostly English, etc… Well, I danced with this girl for like an hour. If you’ve ever been in Avalon it is so loud that you had better know sign language if you want to communicate with anyone. I think one time I was at Avalon and I asked a girl “what’s your name?” and her response was “Bentley College”. I smiled and repeated my question, “no, what’s your name?” and she replied with “You Got It Bad, Usher”. I nodded and walked off. Impossible! Anyways, I was at Avalon with some Filene’s crew and we were about 8 drinks deep. A nice young lady walked up to me, told me I was cute, and dragged me onto the dancefloor. Despite being more wasted than an Irishman on St. Patrick’s Day I managed to keep it together. The next thing I know this girl has her tongue jammed deeper down my throat than Titanic at the bottom of the Atlantic. About 20 minutes later my friends wanted to leave, so I proceeded to ask this girl for her number. She happily obliged and I went home.
I waited about 3 or 4 days after that Saturday to give her a call. You always wonder if it’s a real number and in this case it was. She picked up the phone and immediately recognized my voice. How, I will never know. It was so loud in there I couldn’t have identified anyone’s voice. Anyways, we chatted for 15 minutes or so about nothing important and then I asked her if she wanted to hang out, get drinks sometime. She said yes. I asked her if Saturday was good. She was cool with that. I was about to suggest a place to go and she jumped in and suggested a day at the beach Saturday because it was supposed to be 85 degrees and sunny. Only a stupid 23 year old would think that is a good suggestion. I would get to see her in a bikini right off the bat. Did I think this was going to be an episode of Baywatch? Seriously! I agreed to the “beach date” and told her I would pick her up at noon. Mistake number two!! I got directions to her place downtown and that was that. I was living in wonderful Brighton at the time… land of getting your car vandalized weekly, 40 person street fights at 2am on a Tuesday, and The Kells. Enough said. At this point I wasn’t super familiar with downtown Boston and getting around, but figured I could manage.
Saturday arrived and I got in a quick gym session. Hey, first impressions are important so I wanted to look my best on the beach. I got my crap together, threw it in the car, and I was off. I arrived on time at 11:55am at her apartment building. I waited a few minutes a door opened and out walked a girl. It didn’t look like the girl I met the previous weekend, but she was walking right towards me. Kind of confusing, no? As she is about 5 feet away she smiles, waves, and says hi to me. Is this really the same girl?? Her face looks nothing like I remembered. Maybe I should’ve told my friends out with me that weekend that I got her number and was planning a date. Mistake number three! I never considered how drunk I must have been. Minor setback, but not a big deal. No reason to still not be excited about this date. I drive off and we are on our way. Inside of ten minutes she has asked me insanely dumb question after another and I am getting annoyed. I am starting to get nervous. I don’t mean a little nervous. I am talking about that feeling those sick losers must get when Chris Hansen walks into the kitchen with his camera crew on “To Catch A Predator”. I had a nice sweat worked up thinking about spending the next 4-5 hours with this crazy girl. This wasn’t drinks where I could duck out in an hour. This was the beach!! I then take a wrong turn getting out of the city and end up heading back into the city by mistake. An easy fix, but do I want to?? She then asks me what my deal is for the summer? I am confused and ask what she means. She then asks, “what I’m in it for?”. Again, I am confused and ask what she is talking about specifically. She replies with “Are you in this for a good lay or what?” I immediately get a vision of one of those old Vegas hotels being blown up from the inside-out reducing it to nothing but rubble. This chick is clearly off the reservation! I am starting to panic. She then points out her place of post-high school education. I say, “Oh the Berkley School of Music”. She literally goes off on me like one of those nut-jobs from Brett Michaels Rock of Love when they are fighting over who has better implants. She is yelling at me, “it’s the Berkley COLLEGE of Music”. That is enough for me to know I need to think quick. I need to summon my inner Jack Bauer and pull of an escape worthy of Houdini or Copperfield (without the creepiness). I see a McDonald’s in the distance. I tell her I need to use the restroom. She goes into a rant about fast food and I continue to smile and ignore her. When inside the McD’s I call my buddy Tom and tell him to call me back in exactly 3 minutes and tell me he is locked out of the apartment. I go back to the car, get back on the road (still in Boston) and in a couple minutes the phone rings. I make sure to put it on speaker phone. You know the rest of that trick and I tell her, “we’re already lost, my roomie is locked out, and I even see clouds rolling in… maybe we take a rain check and do this another time.” She agrees and I drive her back to her apartment. She gets out, tells me to call her later today, and I drive off. Needless to say that was the last we spoke to each other. What a miserable date! As bad of a day as that was there were lessons learned, so not all was lost... plus I got to do some much needed laundry that afternoon since I suddenly didn't have anything pressing to do!!
The follow-up to the story is an idea I heard that suggests the need to implement a dating “Lemon Law”. Lemon laws are American state laws that provide a remedy for purchasers of cars that repeatedly fail to meet standards of quality and performance. In dating the Lemon Law should be that if inside of 15 minutes on a date you realize you have made a horrible mistake and have lined yourself up with a lemon, then you are permitted to get up, stop the date, nicely say good-bye, and walk away without any hard feelings on other side. I don’t think you can tell if you’re with the right person (or the one) in those first 15 minutes, but you most certainly can tell if you are not!! Thanks Barney, this is certainly a different idea that deserves some thought : )
There have been lots of good times, but also some equally bad times. I can recall some dates that I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone. I’m not kidding, I could hear the theme song in my head as I looked at some of these girls in the eyes. There are bad dates, which we’ve all been on. I’m not talking about those. I am speaking of dates that you literally couldn’t script to be worse.
When I was 23 I met a girl in a bar, actually a club. I went to Avalon with a group of friends. That was clearly mistake numero uno! This was back in the days when I had literally as much game as Brian Scalabrine. My move you ask? ... crickets chirping...
I waited about 3 or 4 days after that Saturday to give her a call. You always wonder if it’s a real number and in this case it was. She picked up the phone and immediately recognized my voice. How, I will never know. It was so loud in there I couldn’t have identified anyone’s voice. Anyways, we chatted for 15 minutes or so about nothing important and then I asked her if she wanted to hang out, get drinks sometime. She said yes. I asked her if Saturday was good. She was cool with that. I was about to suggest a place to go and she jumped in and suggested a day at the beach Saturday because it was supposed to be 85 degrees and sunny. Only a stupid 23 year old would think that is a good suggestion. I would get to see her in a bikini right off the bat. Did I think this was going to be an episode of Baywatch? Seriously! I agreed to the “beach date” and told her I would pick her up at noon. Mistake number two!! I got directions to her place downtown and that was that. I was living in wonderful Brighton at the time… land of getting your car vandalized weekly, 40 person street fights at 2am on a Tuesday, and The Kells. Enough said. At this point I wasn’t super familiar with downtown Boston and getting around, but figured I could manage.
Saturday arrived and I got in a quick gym session. Hey, first impressions are important so I wanted to look my best on the beach. I got my crap together, threw it in the car, and I was off. I arrived on time at 11:55am at her apartment building. I waited a few minutes a door opened and out walked a girl. It didn’t look like the girl I met the previous weekend, but she was walking right towards me. Kind of confusing, no? As she is about 5 feet away she smiles, waves, and says hi to me. Is this really the same girl?? Her face looks nothing like I remembered. Maybe I should’ve told my friends out with me that weekend that I got her number and was planning a date. Mistake number three! I never considered how drunk I must have been. Minor setback, but not a big deal. No reason to still not be excited about this date. I drive off and we are on our way. Inside of ten minutes she has asked me insanely dumb question after another and I am getting annoyed. I am starting to get nervous. I don’t mean a little nervous. I am talking about that feeling those sick losers must get when Chris Hansen walks into the kitchen with his camera crew on “To Catch A Predator”. I had a nice sweat worked up thinking about spending the next 4-5 hours with this crazy girl. This wasn’t drinks where I could duck out in an hour. This was the beach!! I then take a wrong turn getting out of the city and end up heading back into the city by mistake. An easy fix, but do I want to?? She then asks me what my deal is for the summer? I am confused and ask what she means. She then asks, “what I’m in it for?”. Again, I am confused and ask what she is talking about specifically. She replies with “Are you in this for a good lay or what?” I immediately get a vision of one of those old Vegas hotels being blown up from the inside-out reducing it to nothing but rubble. This chick is clearly off the reservation! I am starting to panic. She then points out her place of post-high school education. I say, “Oh the Berkley School of Music”. She literally goes off on me like one of those nut-jobs from Brett Michaels Rock of Love when they are fighting over who has better implants. She is yelling at me, “it’s the Berkley COLLEGE of Music”. That is enough for me to know I need to think quick. I need to summon my inner Jack Bauer and pull of an escape worthy of Houdini or Copperfield (without the creepiness). I see a McDonald’s in the distance. I tell her I need to use the restroom. She goes into a rant about fast food and I continue to smile and ignore her. When inside the McD’s I call my buddy Tom and tell him to call me back in exactly 3 minutes and tell me he is locked out of the apartment. I go back to the car, get back on the road (still in Boston) and in a couple minutes the phone rings. I make sure to put it on speaker phone. You know the rest of that trick and I tell her, “we’re already lost, my roomie is locked out, and I even see clouds rolling in… maybe we take a rain check and do this another time.” She agrees and I drive her back to her apartment. She gets out, tells me to call her later today, and I drive off. Needless to say that was the last we spoke to each other. What a miserable date! As bad of a day as that was there were lessons learned, so not all was lost... plus I got to do some much needed laundry that afternoon since I suddenly didn't have anything pressing to do!!
The follow-up to the story is an idea I heard that suggests the need to implement a dating “Lemon Law”. Lemon laws are American state laws that provide a remedy for purchasers of cars that repeatedly fail to meet standards of quality and performance. In dating the Lemon Law should be that if inside of 15 minutes on a date you realize you have made a horrible mistake and have lined yourself up with a lemon, then you are permitted to get up, stop the date, nicely say good-bye, and walk away without any hard feelings on other side. I don’t think you can tell if you’re with the right person (or the one) in those first 15 minutes, but you most certainly can tell if you are not!! Thanks Barney, this is certainly a different idea that deserves some thought : )
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