The Worst

In talking about dates, I thought I would tell the worst one.

Still in the year 1994, just much earlier. March.

I was in a sketch group, and we were doing a show that was multi media. We had film, and a band, and honest to goodness live people.

I had created a short film for the show called Underwear. In it, I walk around Chicago in nothing but my tighty whities. The joke is, nobody gives a damn. It was hilarious, and got great reviews.

A friend came to see it with some friends of his. One of his friends liked me and asked him to set us up.

So, he did.

I felt odd about going on what was for me a blind date, but for her was not only not blind, but she had already seen me in my underwear.

I guess that was a good thing.

I called her, and we made plans to meet at a Caribbean restaurant I had recently discovered.

In getting to the restaurant early, I discovered it was now closed. I stood out front waiting for her, not knowing what she would look like.

This blond comes walking up to me in a very hurried manner.

This was my date. Not really pretty, but no dog either. She just seemed stern, and that put me off.

She also took charge.

Right away she says her sister dropped her off, and I would need to give her a ride home. I laughed. I didn't have a car. I told her no problem, my car is the yellow one with the taxi light on top.

She didn't get the joke.

She also wasn't thrilled when I told her the joint was closed for good. I suggested a Mexican place up the street, and she begrudged me.

At the place, I lit up a cigarette, and she told me it was disgusting to smoke.

We are on our first date! You are calling me disgusting! Hey, you wanted this date!

I made sure to smoke a lot during that meal. We ate, and drank, and got the hell out.

We were on the north side of town, and she lived south in the heart of the city. We walked along the lake. She grabbed my hand, which was so odd. It wasn't like their was any romance. It was more like obligation. I remember being unable to think about the conversation, because I couldn't stop feeling our cold hands locked together in some desperate plea to form a bond.

When we got to her place, it turned out she lived with her sister. Her sister asked me in, and then asked if I would help her place a rug in the living room.

We had to move a couch, and then some tables, and then lay the rug, and then move all the furniture back. My date kept apologizing for making me work, and I kept saying it was all right, but I couldn't wait to get the hell out of there. I should have lit a smoke.

My date offered to drive me home, which I tried to decline, but to no avail.

When we got to my house, right away she says that this date had been her idea, and that if I wanted to see her again, I would have to call her. Then she told me how she was going to be out of town for a few days here and there, so not to call then, but to try and remember when she would be in town, and to call on those days.

I just glazed over and listened.

It's like when you are on the phone with someone, and they say write this number down, and you have no intention of doing it, so you say, ok, go ahead, and they give the number, and you repeat it like you were writing it down, but you are really just standing there faking like you care.

It was like that.

I just took in the dates like I was going to call, but I was just faking it because I had NO intention of ever calling her again.

When her speech was done, I said, Ok, good night. I hopped out of her car, and didn't even look back.

After a few weeks, my friend called on her behalf. He asked if we were going out again, and I laughed and said no.

He seemed troubled by that, but I knew he was thinking how he was going to have to break up with her for me.

He would have to be gentle. She would probably not take it well.

I did feel bad for him.