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the handsome loser

The life and times of a handsome loser. Humor. Love. Sex. Dating. Life.

One Bad Date Among Many

Saturday, July 08, 2006

If you were to ask me what my favorite song or movie is, the answer you would get would differ from day to day. I love so many that choosing the one that beats them all will largely be based on the kind of mood I'm in at the time. I'm a fickle kind of guy. Things are much the same when it comes to choosing my worst first date. Again, there are so many 'good' ones to choose from. See, this is the problem with being a handsome loser. My face gets me so many opportunities for my brain to make a complete rhinos ass of myself. At the moment this is my current 'favorite'.

My friend Susie- who I suspect has been in love with me for a decade or so but that's a whole different story- has set me up on date with her friend, Leah. I'm in two minds over the whole idea of being set up on a date. I like that I get to avoid the terrifying ordeal of asking someone if there may be some ungodly reason that they might, in future, spend some time with me on a voluntary basis. Then again, I dislike the possibility/probability that I may be getting paired off with a monster- I mean, how hard is someone who's in love with you going to try here? By the way, I'm not talking about monster a in the physical sense. I mean, what if she's psychologically disturbed in some fashion? It's something I always fret over due to the disproportionate statistics of it, as pertaining to myself. One in every fifteen women is a nutjob. This is a truth universally acknowledged. Of the women I have dated, four out of every seven had unpredictable psychotic tendencies. I run through worst case scenarios in my head, each awful thought topping the last, before deciding that a date arranged by someone else may actually be less prone to worst case scenarios than one that my own cursed hand has been involved in.

So, I turn up. We didn't have anything arranged beyond a meeting point- yeah, I had to worry about what the hell I was going to suggest into the bargain- and when I arrive Leah- who, it turns out, is very attractive- suggests that we go see the rock band of an old friend of hers. This sounds good to me. A couple of hours of ear drum bursting noise will save me from the stilted, vein-popping awkwardness of first date conversation. Even if somehow things are going well up to that point, it's a couple of hours where I won't have the chance to say something that dispels any questions in her mind as to whether or not I might be a complete dick.

It's a nice, sunny evening. We decide to walk to the gig and on the way we pass a small fairground. 'Let's go ride something,' Leah says. I panic and I instantly scan the place for any rides that might scream 'painful twisted metal death' or 'paraplegia guaranteed' at my lame chicken ass. Thankfully, there's nothing there of that wild nature, just a lot of things with the common theme of spinning around. We choose a ride that has a particularly strong sense of that spinning theme running through it. I don't know what you'd call it but basically there's a large circular floor that spins quickly and on top of that floor are a collection of orbs that spin with the floor but also spin independently. Apparently spinning is the key to thrilling joy and happiness. Leah and I get inside one of the orbs, sit down, lower the dangerous looking safety bar and the ride starts up. Within twenty seconds I'm starting to feel sick. Unmistakably, stomachly sick.

To be continued.....
posted by handsomeloser, 5:07 AM


Like you´re writing! Curious how the rest of the date went... :)
commented by Blogger Tess, 1:51 PM  
Extremely well written...a man who has the same view and humour on life life as me! But, hey, 'only' 1 in 15 women are "nutjobs"? I must be very unlucky then!
commented by Blogger DBA Lehane, 11:04 PM  
tess- I am slowly revealing the painful details.
commented by Blogger handsomeloser, 2:40 PM  

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