As a new feature, I’m reliving the stories of my top 5 worst/funniest/best-date-story stories. Here’s #4:
It was a sunny and beautiful day in Chicago just a few short weeks ago. I had forsaken online dating months previous and was letting the dating gods take me where they wished. During my lunch break, I was taking a stroll in the loop getting a few errands checked off my list and up in front of me walked a beautiful, tall man. I decided to let my I’m-so-goddamn-single-auras flow while I quickened my pace to get in front of him and his two friends. As I passed the beautiful man, I heard, “Can you tell me where Jimmy John’s is?” in a vaguely familiar foreign accent.
Oh my. It couldn’t be Mr. Handsome, could it?! As I looked over, his friend was talking to me. Apparently my auras were working, but with the wrong man. I decided to run with it anyway. He was foreign, so I should help them, right?! The group must be visiting from another country and have no phone data, it’s the least I can do to help out Handsome and his friends find a delicious, fresh lunch. It turns out Handsome’s friend lived and worked in Chicago, and hailed from Turkey originally.
After I directed the trio to the nearest JJ’s, Señor Questions (not the cutie, mind you) started chatting me up: where do you work, why are you so gorgeous (juuuuuusst kidding…), and would I like to get coffee with him sometime. My goodness was my aura in sync that day! I agreed, thinking what’s the worst that could happen? And when we did get drinks, nothing bad did happen! It was rather nice actually. He even walked me to my office and right on the spot asked me to hang out again. Who doesn’t love a man with cajones, amiright, ladies??
The next night, we met for drinks of the alcoholic variety. BUT the entire vibe had changed. He had turned the creep factor up to 10. He asked to meet my parents. He requested that I take him to visit N.I.U. since that’s where he got his masters and because my parents live so close. He insisted that we were a match made in heaven because we lived in three of the same cities. At one point, he grabbed my hand in order to “help me cross the street like a gentleman.” I yelped that I was quite capable of walking with my own two feet and my own two hands, thank-you-very-much.
While imbibing, he again grabbed my hand. I tried to pull away. He held tight. I tugged harder. He relented, asking “Are you religious? Or else, why won’t you let me hold your hand?” After nearly an hour of sheer torture, I headed for the restroom taking my purse and at least 10 minutes to clear my head. “HOW CAN I LEAVE THIS DATE?! WILL THE KITCHEN STAFF LET ME RUN OUT THE BACK DOOR?!” quickly followed by the awful realization that my bag with my lunch box and sweater were still with him at the front of the restaurant. WHAT AM I GOING TO DO? I thought frantically.
I mustered up the gumption to walk back to the front and say that I was ready to go since I had an early morning doctor’s appointment (which was true; apparently my cajones and my imagination left me for the night to go on a date of their own).
“Let’s go on a walk,” he insisted.
I balked, “No, I’m ready to leave now.”
We paid the bill, I ordered an Uber, and we waited at the corner for it to arrive.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked.
“No!” I nearly screamed. Where was the godforsaken Uber when you needed him???????
After my driver took 5 times as long as the app originally claimed, Mr. Let’s Get Married…Tomorrow tried to kiss me. My cheek the victim. Then he said, “I just wanted you to remember me…” as I hopped in a cab faster than the Easter bunny.
I called Kira immediately, “This has to have been one of the worst dates of my life…”