Date #93 was a carny. Ok, not a carny in the literal sense, but we DID meet at an amusement park where he was manning the admission booth so can we just say “carny”? Good.
Archives: 100 Bad Dates
Date #86 was dirty. Not Ron-Jeremy-dirty (though Mr. Jeremy sort of straddles the line between smutty and slovenly… and it’s a super-hairy sort of straddling, too), but Bert-from-Mary-Poppins-fresh-from-the-chim-chimney dirty.
Date #21 robbed me blind. Not in an emotional way, but a felonious one. This happened during a time in my life when I was doing a little too much drinkin’ and a little too much lovin’, and it was bound to catch up with me. But I hadn’t seen enough Lifetime movies to know that yet.
Date #55 was tan. Really, really tan. This guy made George Hamilton look like a mall-haunting goth. I met him through a personal ad in the local free paper…
Date #18 was a sassy paraplegic. He was Backstreet Boys handsome (think Brian Littrell before Jesus and the Swine Flu or Nick Carter before he became vomitrocious) and screamingly funny.
Date #2 was my high school heartthrob. He was more The Geek than Jake Ryan, but a boy had never so much looked at me before, and I had a serious case of Sweet Sixteen and Never Been Kissed and wasn’t picky.
Date #80 was a girl I blatantly hit on while walking my dog in the park one day. She was sitting under a tree, reading a book, and the way the light filtered through the leaves and bounced off of her dark hair made her look like an angel. Or a girl in a feminine hygiene commercial.
Date #63 was Date #62 turned the party scene from Anchorman. If you’ll recall, we had gone on a date and watched one of his friends rock it like a hurricane. It was on that date that I found out he had a policy of being completely honest. About everything. Always.
Date #62 was a rock star. Okay, not a “star”, exactly, but he was in a band and you couldn’t tell him he wasn’t the hottest shit to ever hit that town.
Date #39 was a girl, because I tried that out for a while. The truth is, aside from obvious anatomical differences, it’s not all that different. Dating is dating, and the awkwardness of trying people on for size is not gender-specific.