My family is discussing and praying about decisions that my dad has to make as a result of his appointment with the neurosurgeon yesterday. It wouldn’t be appropriate for me to say anything else just now and honestly, I need to not talk about it here today. Sometimes I come here to think through things. Sometimes I come here to get away from things for just a little while.
I get most of my news from the radio in my car. Until the Disney Channel offers a news ticker at the bottom of the screen, I’m dependent on whatever I hear when we’re in our home-away-from-home aka the minivan, Sprocket the Rocket. (Every car I’ve ever driven has been named Sprocket. It’s one of my very favorite words. Don’t judge me. Judge George Foreman and all his Georges.) My kids aren’t allowed to watch the news on TV due to the graphic content and the glut of ED commercials that seem to be shown during that time. We’re sticking to basic phonics and multiplication facts at this stage.
So, as I was saying, most of my news comes from the radio and most of the time we’re listening to a certain positive and encouraging radio station so if anything really negative or discouraging happens in the world that you think I should know, please call or shoot me an email or Tweet because I probably haven’t heard it.
Yesterday on the way to school I heard a news story about a first date that went terribly wrong. Some girl in Detroit went on a date to Buffalo Wild Wings with some guy she’d met the week before in a casino and knew only by his first name. When it came time to pay the bill, her date said he had left his wallet in the car and asked for her keys because apparently she had driven. He never came back. And he took her car. I’m fairly certain someone could write a successful country music song about this little story. “Our Love Flew About as Far as a Boneless Wing But You Flew Away in My Impala,” or “The Caribbean Jerk Sauce Wasn’t the Biggest Jerk in the Room,” or “The Salt from My Tears Turned the Smiley Potatoes Smiles Upside Down.” I’ve never actually written a country song, in case you were wondering.
After I heard the news story I started wondering what I would consider to be my worst first date story. I remember one first date that I had with a guy who wasn’t raised in the South. I mean no offense to any of my friends who are not Southerners and I know for a fact and have met gentlemen from areas outside the South who knew more about charm, manners, and the proper treating of a lady than many Southern gents. The only reason I even draw attention to the fact that this guy wasn’t from below the Mason Dixon line is because that’s the excuse he used for any behavior that was less than gentlemanly. The first time he said it on our date was while I was working for ice to put on my nose….the nose that slammed into the door he walked through and allowed to shut in my face. Now I wouldn’t consider myself high maintenance, but you have to understand that I was out of practice with rude. This was during the summer of my college years and I attended a small Southern school where guys opened every door for the girls. During dinner he talked about how much money he made and how important he was and how stupid people who live in my state are. Apparently he was saving all that money for something very important because he also asked me if I wanted to go halfsies on the dinner bill. He was truly a gem. I’m not sure how I let him slip away.
Less you think the South is tacky-free, I should in fairness tell you about the first date I had after we moved to Louisiana. My date drove me to a little town about forty-five minutes away to look at the big Christmas light display that is one of the town’s proudest events. Except the actual lights weren’t turned on until the weekend after our date. My date didn’t want to fight the crowds that accompany the big lighting event so he just took me around town and described to me what everything would look like once it was fully decorated and electrified. He didn’t even use creative adjectives in his descriptions. When we got to the restaurant he told me that he didn’t have much money with him and asked if I’d planned on ordering something big. I tried to be gracious and told him that I really wasn’t that hungry and thought I would just order a side salad and a glass of water. He proceeded to order the seafood platter which I noticed was the most expensive item on the menu. We didn’t have another date after that one.
One night my friend Stacey and I went on a double date with a couple of guys. The date was so extremely horrible that we both went to the bathroom in the middle of the meal and started crying and trying to figure out how we could leave the restaurant without the guys knowing. We didn’t sneak out because they knew where we lived, but that seemed like the longest night of our lives.
What about you? Do you have any fun first date stories? Save your “not first date but tragic all the same” stories for later because I have some good ones to tell, too. Let’s hear it. What’s the worst first date you ever had? Did any of you give the poor guys a do-over?