Your Awful Story Olympics IV

You think it’s hard picking up a girl in English, try doing it in another language. I had the good fortune this weekend to find myself across from a fetching young girl from Belgium and a very normal New York guy, as they attempted to get to know each other. (Sad what passes as good fortune for me on the weekends). You could tell from the body language that she was physically digging him, but you could also tell from the confused expression on her face and the desperately eager one on his that he still had some work to do. He led with Belgium beer, which is a logical place to start.

He: “It’s so good!”

She: “Yes, it is very good to drink. I do miss it. Better than your Budweiser.”

A hearty laugh is shared.

This money little exchange bought him about 4 minutes of non-awkwardness. Then, high on his success, our young hero barreled through Belgian french fries and chocolate in 90 seconds flat, as if he had an unlimited amount of topics the rest of the night. Ah, the foolhardiness of youth. He found himself so out of sorts that he spent the next three or four minutes on a particularly misguided inquisition about the Swiss Army Knife, which she entertained politely even though it’s akin to asking him when he danced his first Argentine tango. After this, there was silence. A silence so enduring that it makes you feel better about every silence you’ve ever had. Dead people make more noise than these two. They sipped their drinks, waited, and then sipped again. Then, out of nowhere, he erupted with confidence and excitement. He had found the topic that would bridge the gap, bring their two nations, hearts, and genitals together. Proudly, heroically, he cried “So, land of the waffles, huh?” Love knows no borders.

Which brings us to the first entry in this month’s Awful Story Olympics…

The Bronze:

B, do you ever check out the gay dating sites? You really should, they’re hilarious. Some crazy shit going on there. -Davis L, Cincinnati, OH

Then Davis attached a profile from his travels, and for that, I am eternally grateful. First, there are two pictures of a person I can describe only as Rerun in a bra.

Like this, but with less clothes.

Then, there was the profile. Ahem…

i an looking for boifren sirios i an very sexy in romantic i an looking for sirios people i no looking for play games i an very honest i an like dancing i love black people is me speciality i an looking for me relation i an very cute sexy i love coking i an sometimes play balibol i like going in de park i love please no pley  

i an like dancind i love check muvis i love sometimes i like going teatro i an like porno muvis

OK, so obviously English is not this fellow’s first language, and there’s no shame in that. But I’m pretty sure Spanish has sentences. And commas. And the idea of thoughts making sense.

Favorite part of the profile, hands down? Under profession, he writes: social workes. Which means, if I’m interpreting correctly, someone, somewhere, is going to Bra Rerun for advice. Yippee!

The Silver

I started e-mailing with this guy and he seemed like a nice guy. I come to find out he breeds spiders and has over 300 of them…in his bedroom…and had 8 snakes and quite a few large lizards…While I love animals, I let him know that I probably wouldn’t be comfortable being in his place.  

When we finally hung out we watched a few movies at my house and hung-out. I’m not shallow, but I’m a pretty educated person, come from a well to do family, and would like the person I’m dating to be just as driven. This guy’s car was alright, and wanted to go back to school so I thought we may have a potential person here.

After hanging out, he texted  saying “I think I’m going to treat myself to the strip club this weekend”. WTF! I’ve been to strip clubs, I know what goes down there and I’ve known women who were in that industry. I’m sorry, but the majority of them are dirty. So I said this to him and he freaked out. Replying back “So my sister in law is dirty?” Well…in my eyes yes, she is. The fact that she is married and her husband is alright with this? To each his own, whatever. After saying I was sorry and that I didn’t mean to offend anyone in his family, it just based on my experiences, he said it was his “deal-breaker” because I’m judgmental… Are you kidding me?!  -Mary, Ann Arbor, MI

So…let me get this straight. You went out with guy who a guy who kept hundreds of lizards, spiders, and snakes in his bedroom, but you thought it would be OK because he had a decent car. Then for some reason he told you he was hitting the strip clubs, you told him strippers are dirty, and he told you to step off because actually his sister-in-law was a stripper?

God I love having this website.

The Gold

This one got the Gold based on the introductory sentence alone.

I agreed to meet up a guy with blurry pictures at a Barnes and Noble in a strip mall then head to a bar to watch a hockey game. (I mean, how great was that?!) At first glance several things were not OK, terribly wrong.

I can't be the only one who was thinking that...

A.  Not only did he have a mullet, but a rat tail as well.
B. He was wearing a dangle cross earring.
C. He has wearing a tuxedo jacket and open blouse. Yes, a blouse. 
D. He had on white leather boots and a brown snake-skin belt.
E. Creepy ass goatee.

I could have maybe been OK with one of these qualities, but not all at once. It took every bone in my body not to bolt but I am not a terrible person and I introduced myself.  He decided on this stupid sports bar, didn’t order food, and informed me he once lived for 2 months on candy as an adult and only ate processed meat. He also told me about how is cat saved his life he when he thought about killing himself and how he found Jesus on the roads of America.  He kept calling my hometown “Philthy”. What the fuck, you’re from Detroit. No food was ordered just 2 sodas which pissed off the waitresses. He never once asked about me or let me speak for more than 15 seconds at a time and showed me a picture of his cat. He also bashed dogs, vegetables, and told me he had to drain his lizard. While he was doing that I thought about darting out of this empty bar and fleeing but I stayed. I waited a period of time that would have been long for a 80 year with prostate problems to pee, so I assumed he left or was taking a shit. Either way, I told him I had to pick up my dog from my friend. On my way out of the bar, I asked these people for a light and told them about my terrible internet date, I pointed him out and laughed.  I had lasted roughly 45 minutes, but I took it as a learning experience.

1. Don’t meet up at lame strip malls in a college town.
2. Don’t go out with guys that have cats.
3. Don’t go out with people who have blurry pictures.
4. Pooping on the first date is not okay, ever.

-Julia P., Baltimore MD

I’ll add a #5. Or, rather, I’ll give you a new #2, because cats obviously rule and you’ve clearly made some sort of terrible typo. Also, about #4, what if you’ve specifically planned it to be a Pooping Date? I’m getting off track.

2. If something is requiring every bone in your body to accomplish, don’t do it.

I mean, they’re your bones, you might as well listen to them. If it turns out you’re on a date with Kenny Powers, just hit him with an Alan Alda and get the fuck out of there.

Except, wait. How was his car?

If you’d like to be included in next month’s Awful Story Olympics, email me!

This entry was posted in Your Awful Stories. Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Your Awful Story Olympics IV

  1. Denise says:

    I now feel like I need to plan a pooping date.

    • B says:

      I know. Me too. I’ve been on a lot of dates and don’t think I’ve ever pooped on a single one. Maybe that’s what i’m doing wrong?

      • michelle says:

        This is my first visit to your blog, and I’ve been reading from most recent to older posts.
        Thus far, these may be the first ‘awful stories’ in which I’m not sure if I’m more horrified by the authors or the subjects.
        In retrospect, I’m thinking that my Match experience to date hasn’t been so bad…

      • B says:

        Deciding who’s worse, the author or the emailer is part of the fun!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s