My Worst Date, Well One of Them

I was over at Kelly’s Casa DeChaos reading about her really bad date. That got me thinking about my really bad dates. I have had some doozies. A few stick out in my memory more than others and some are downright scary. You can read about one of them here to THE DATING GAME go on I’ll wait.

I was away at college living in a dorm. Now this dorm was a girls only dorm. They were very strict on their rules. No boys allowed past the front door and they locked the doors at 10:00 p.m. If you weren’t in by 10:00 p.m. you were out of luck and had to find some other place to lay your head. There were two of us in a room and the rooms were pretty simple. Two beds a closet and a desk and a radiator that got turned on to 100 degrees in September and got turned off in May. Now this was in Central Texas where temperatures in September are still in the high 90’s and it starts heating up to the 90’s in February. That’s it. No bathroom, no sink and no toilet. If you wanted to use the toilet that was down the hall around the corner and down another hall, very inconvenient when you’ve been drinking beer. The shower you went down the hall and up the stairs oh and they had toilets with their showers. You couldn’t flush any toilet in the building while someone was showering or you would hear screams of agony from being scalded. I digress.

I was living in this lovely dorm taking a full load of classes and working two jobs. I don’t know why I thought I had time to date but I was young and full of energy. I met a guy who looked exactly like Barry Gibb. He was tall, he was good looking and he was a really good dancer at least that’s what he told me. I met him at work. I worked at a department store in the men’s clothing department. It was an easy job. A young coed tells a man they look good in something they buy it. Easy peasy and I worked on commission. He came into the store in need of some underwear. When he left he had new underwear, socks, shirts, several leisure suites, two pairs of shoes and a date with me.

I worked weekends as a bartender after I got off my day job so weekend dates were out for me. Also since I bartended I never got off before 2:00 a.m. which meant that I was not allowed into the dorm to sleep until 6:00 a.m. when they unlocked the doors. We made plans to go dancing the next Monday, my only day off.

I was excited, nervous and generally giddy with anticipation. He was so good looking and so suave. I told everyone about him and the fact that he could be Mr. Gibb’s twin brother. Finally the fated day arrived and I got myself ready. I blow dried my hair straight and then curled it into a perfect Farrah Fawcette hair-do. I put on my danskin leotard and wrap around skirt in shocking blue because it brought out the blue in my eyes. I put on my platform Connie’s T-Strap dancing shoes. I layered another layer of Maybelline Great Lash on my eyes, applied another layer of Aziza Blue Eye shadow, shadowed my cheek bones with a brownish blush in an upsweep and applied my copper penny Revlon lipstick on my thin lips. I was a vision of disco loveliness.

Cherry, the dorm dick, knocked on my door to let me know I had a visitor. I fluffed my hair one last time smiled to make sure I didn’t have any lipstick on my teeth, blew into my hand to make sure I had that Close Up fresh breath and headed out to meet my date. There he stood at the front door to the dorm waiting. He stood in his white suite, black shirt open to the navel hair shining in the setting sun. Around him stood 200 college girls batting their eyes and trying not to giggle too much. “Well, hello” Barry said as he looked me up and down and back up again. I blushed underneath the 14 coats of make-up and reached out as he offered me his hand. I looked back over my shoulder at the gaggle of envious girls and waved goodbye.

We arrived at the local discotheque and started inside. We stopped at the bouncer who looked at me then at Barry and said “That will be $10.00 a couple.” Barry pulled out a $5 then looked at me with his hand out. I looked at him and then at the bouncer and said “Excuse me?” Barry stood there with his hand out and said “I thought we would go Dutch.” My jaw dropped to the floor. I had never gone ‘Dutch’. I mean that’s not a date, that’s just hanging out with friends. I looked at Barry and said “I don’t have any money on me. I didn’t even bring a purse.” Barry sighed a heavy sigh and then reached back into his pocket and brought out another fiver. Now a million things started to roll through my mind. Should I order a drink, I mean I don’t have money and he certainly doesn’t want to pay for it. Did I mistake his invitation?

We got a table near the DJ’s stand and watched the couples on the raised multi-colored dance floor do the Hustle under the disco ball. Barry ordered himself a drink and I asked the waitress for water with a lime. Then the DJ played “You Should Be Dancing” by the Bee Gees. Barry looked at me and mouthed “wanna dance?” I nodded yes. I mean after all that is why we were there. He had professed to me while I was fitting him with his nice white polyester suit that he was indeed an excellent dancer. I loved to dance what better way to get to know each other.

We stepped out on the floor he grabbed my hand and spun me around. Then he proceeded to throw me around like a rag doll. Stepping on my feet and jerking my arms out of the sockets. Then he grabbed me and turned me upside down in an attempt to flip me. Now I had disco danced enough to know that flipping takes a lot of practice and is not something that should be done cold. Just as he turned me upside down he lost his grip and dumped me in the floor on my head. Then not even apologizing swooped me up and continued to throw me around. Finally the song ended and I wobbled shakily to the table. I got a drink of water and decided I need to set the next song out. This is when Barry started telling me about how much each of the women in the club wanted to sleep with him. He also told me how lucky I was he chose me to accompany him. Then he got angry because I didn’t want to dance.

We mutually agreed it was time to leave. My head was pounding and my neck hurt. I felt I surely had both whiplash and a concussion. Barry told me I was making way too much of his dropping me. I was quiet on the drive back to the dorm, which for me is unusual. I didn’t feel well at all and just wanted to get to the dorm before 10 so I wouldn’t have to sleep in my car. Barry on the other hand used my silence to tell me how ungrateful I was for not staying and dancing the night away. I mean after all he had just purchased a very expensive new pair of boogie shoes.

Salvation was in sight as we pulled into the dorm parking area at 9:57 p.m. I did not wait for Barry to come round and open my door, nor did I check to see if he was even going to disembark from the automobile. I just wanted to get inside take some aspirin and sleep.

I reached the front door and felt his hand on mine. I turned and looked up into his gorgeous Barry Gibb look-a-like face. He bent down and planted his lips firmly on mine. Then he did the unthinkable with his tongue he parted my lips. Now honestly I don’t know if it was the fact that I hadn’t eaten in a couple of days or that I had been dropped on my head and was suffering from a major internal head injury or if it was this guy had become repulsive to me but that’s when it happened. A deluge of bile exploded up my esophagus and into my mouth which of course ended up in his mouth. I was horrified! I had just thrown up in Barry Gibb’s mouth. Oh man! I grabbed the door handle and fell into the lobby just as the Dorm Dick came to lock the door. I ran to my room in shame and pain.

I left Barry spitting vomit out of his mouth and never saw him again. Now I’m sure out there somewhere is a balding egotistical man with a big chunky gold chain around his neck and his shirt unbuttoned to his waist telling people about the worst date he ever had. He is telling story of the stupid bitch that puked in his mouth.

So what was YOUR worst date?