Monday, November 29, 2004

Losers on Parade

Years ago, before I met The Mister, I dated my share of losers.
I went on many dates, my friends that I really shouldn't have gone on.

The interesting thing about losers is that some of them have excellent concealment skills and can fool a girl into thinking that they are normal.
At first glance and "getting to know you" conversation, a good miscreant can trick a girl into thinking that he is an average, conventional guy.
You might end up out for a few hours before Mr. Idiot or Mr. Inappropriate makes his first appearance.

Like the good looking musician I went out with on two normal dates, only to have Mr. Inappropriate make his appearance on our almost third date.
I say almost because here's how it went:

The musician, (we'll call him "Chip" or "Dale" for the sake of argument) had invited me to his apartment for dinner. As I mentioned before, we had been out on two dates previously, so his offer to cook dinner seemed ok at the time.
When I showed up at his apartment and knocked on the door, Chip opened it wearing nothing but a small girly type apron, and announced:
"Rules of the house. Clothes come off at the front door" or some shit to that affect.
It took me a moment to comprehend that I was not, in fact, in a Fellini film.
I then immediately turned on my heels without saying anything and made for the elevator.
Quick as my high heels could take me.
He came out into the hall, but I guess thought better of coming after me with his "Dale" hanging out.
I wouldn't return his calls anymore.

Or the guy I went out with once who seemed relatively normal, and I liked well enough who sent me flowers at work the next day, thanking me for pleasant evening.
Which I thought was a nice thing to do.
Only to start to fill up my answering machine tape with message after message asking me why he couldn't reach me.
It didn't scare me when he left the first message, it was after the 11th in the span of 5 hours that alarmed me.
I kept that tape, because it's an excellent chronicle of normal to lunatic.

Or the U of T student who thought I'd like to see the skinned monkey from the lab in his car trunk.

Or the guy who took me to the airport for dinner.
I like the airport.
It's one of my favourite places, but not for a first date.

Oh yes my darlinks...there were many more frogs before The Mister rescued me from the dating pool.

Tanks Got.

Tell me your worst date...C'mon...