Etiquette Hell = Where the ill-mannered deserve to go


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The Dating Game

2002 Archive

Jan - Jun 2003 Archive

Jul - Dec 2003 Archive

I used to work for a logistics company. About 3 years into my stint with them the company acquired a contract for a major pay TV channel's logistics requirements. It meant that we would be seeing some new employees. The newbies arrived, all of them men and one of them was so very um, unattractive. They settled in and it became apparent that Mr. Ugly was also Mr. Sleazy. Perhaps his baldness was caused by too much testosterone, perhaps the white stuff around his mouth was caused by hard to control over-active yeast. Perhaps he was dropped as a baby and his features distorted. All of this added up to a man that was hard to bear. After a year or so he managed to find a girlfriend who very quickly became his fiancée and was express-lined to wife. She was a lovely lady and I couldn't understand what she saw, but love is blind.

It came to pass that I left the company but remained friends with some of my co-workers. They updated me with the news that Mrs. Lovely had cancer. It was inoperable and did not respond to chemo. She soon became very ill and began to die. During this time Mr. Ugly started dating other women eventually keeping a steady girlfriend while his wife slowly died. Upon her death he took her daughter to court over the estate while going about marrying his girlfriend all in a matter of months after his wife's death. He had only been married for about two years but was suing her daughter for 100% of her sizable estate, the results of which are still to be seen. So it isn't just women who dig for gold, eh?



Eight years ago, I moved to a city from a small town. It was scary, but I immediately met two guys who I became great friends with named Freddy and Ron. We were all friends for a while when I started dating Freddy. He and I broke up, very amicably, and a few months later I started dating Ron. Usually, this wouldn't be the best of all possible worlds, but in our unique situation, it actually worked. I was very happy with Ron and Freddy started dating another girl, Jonni. I didn't care for Jonni as she was always very rude to me, but I assumed it was because she knew Freddy and I used to date.

About a year passed and Jonni and Freddy were driving Ron to my home (Jonni was driving) and they had an accident. Ron was killed instantly, Freddy was badly wounded and required six months of hospitalization. I went to the hospital, immediately, and was greeted by Freddy's mother. She was clearly frightened and upset, and when the Dr. said only immediate family could see Freddy, she told the Dr. that *I* was Freddy's girlfriend (Jonni was sitting close by, reading a book - she was completely uninjured and did not speak to me when I got there). When we got inside the ICU, Freddy's mother told me that Jonni had approached her and instead of returning a hug said, "I don't have insurance, so you'd better not sue me." I was aghast. Later I found that she'd said the same to Ron's parents, shortly before the funeral.

She was rude and horrible, yes, but just wait until you hear the rest of the story! Freddy was in the hospital for six months. During that time, I visited him every day. I'd see Jonni less and less until she wasn't there at all. Freddy told me he broke up with her because he wanted me back. We agreed to see each other, but we said we'd wait until he was out of the hospital and completely well to consider ourselves a couple. Freddy also thought it was a good idea not to tell any of our friends (including his roommates) that we were together because they would not support the relationship. I agreed.

Time passed and Freddy was released. We had a loving and fun relationship, but I, after a while, grew tired of the tedium of having to hide from our friends. It got to the point that Freddy didn't even want me to go to his house because he was afraid they would suspect something! I explained to him that it would look even stranger if I didn't hang out with them anymore and besides, I missed my friends!! His two roommates were very good friends of mine as well, and it was hard being away from them. Well, the you-know-what really hit the fan when one of Freddy's roommates, Chris, invited me to a party. He said everyone was going (including Freddy) and he said he really thought I should go. I asked Freddy and he said, "No, I'm not going, so you shouldn't either." I said I was going anyway and he just got mad and stomped off. I didn't hear from him again, and when I showed up at his house for the party (we were all riding over together) Chris told me that Freddy had decided to spend the weekend with some friends in a nearby town! I then noticed that Jonni was there and would be going to the party with us as well.

At the party, I got sloshed, and the only one sober enough to drive me home was Jonni. As we went home, Jonni started talking about Freddy and how upset she was with him because they were supposed to go to the party together and then he just suddenly split without a word. I was confused, but I didn't say anything. The next day I called to Freddy's house and had his other roommate, Trance, pick me up so I could go back and get my car. On the LONG ride to their place, Trance told me that he and Chris knew what was going on between Freddy and me, but what I didn't know was that Freddy had never broken up with Jonni in the first place and the reason I wasn't supposed to come around their house was because Jonni moved in just a block over and dropped by a lot.

When Freddy came back to town, I confronted him, shattered. Freddy had been one of my best friends and he did this!! I couldn't believe it! We both cried and he said he couldn't break up with Jonni because she was "fragile" after the accident. I said that was BS and he swore he would break up with her, then and there. I said okay, but only as long as I could be there for it. He called her from my apartment and broke things off.

We stayed together through Christmas and it was all wonderful. I, stupidly, decided Freddy was still the one for me and I was happily falling ever deeper in love. We made plans to get engaged and so on, until New Year's Eve. At the last minute, Freddy said he didn't want me to come to their New Year's Eve party. Trance's ex-girlfriend was going to be there and while they were all on friendly terms with her, I definitely was not (another story that deserves to be on this site, btw). He said he didn't want me to make a scene. I told him I could be a big girl about it, but he said if I showed up, he wouldn't be happy. Guess what? That's right. I showed up and there was Freddy, with Jonni. When he kissed her at midnight, I turned and left.

Later I found out that he'd told Jonni the break-up over the telephone was just a joke and he'd continued seeing both of us at the same time. He continued calling me for a while, but I never returned the calls and decided to stop being friends with all of the people we had been friends with, so I wouldn't be tempted to get back with him and get burned again. I did run into him and Trance one day, about three years ago, and Freddy asked me out. I declined as I was then dating my now-husband. Trance called me later that evening and told me that it was good to see me and, by the way, Freddy and Jonni are married now, so it's good that I didn't go out with him.


I once went on a date with a guy called John.  John liked to play pool, so we went to a bar in the city.  Although it wasn’t outstanding, we had a pleasant enough evening, and eventually decided to leave.  As we were heading down the stairs I clipped one stair with the heel of my shoe and tumbled down the entire flight (I hadn’t been drinking as I had driven us there in my car).  I landed at the bottom with a twisted wrist and bent glasses.  As I commenced to fall apart laughing at myself, John came down the stairs and instead of helping me up, walked right past me, giving me a severe ticking off for embarrassing him.  I should mention that the stairwell was entirely deserted except for us.  He walked out the door and stood by my car, waiting for me to pick myself up and unlock it.  All the way home he went on and on about how undignified I was and how embarrassing for him my tumble down the stairs was.  Even my driving was up for criticism (severely marred by a twisted wrist and specs).  I had completely written him off by this point so just laughed at him which seemed to only annoy him more.  Thankfully, he was too put off to ever call me again.



I dated my share of goons before finding the guy who is now my husband. I was brought up with a strict sense of etiquette. I dated several guys who were typical of my generation: rude, greedy and demanding. Let's just say that there was a little friction. A couple stories that are now amusing to me:

He was nice, but it just didn't click. So we broke up the weekend of Thanksgiving after two months. Well, a month after Christmas, I get a call from his mother. (How did she get my number anyway?) She first gave a hint that I should have sent her a thank you note. She than asked me why I was ignoring her - she promised not to interfere but was willing to help me in any way possible.

She was under the understanding that I was coming home with him for Christmas. Right before Christmas, he told her that we had something big to announce at Christmas. He came home alone and told her that I had to work at the last minute. (I worked at an accounting firm at the time - didn't she think it odd for me to be working on Christmas?) Of course she was so delighted that her boy had finally found a woman, she went out and spent a mint in fancy jewelry and cashmere sweaters for me and told him to welcome me to the family for her.

I was very glad that we broke up BEFORE he tried something like that on ME and wasn't at all jealous when I heard that he was showering his new girlfriend with fancy presents. I guess he also got double his annual Christmas cash. Greedy!

The next Christmas I was planning to visit my parents for a week. I had a different boyfriend who I thought was a nice person and was nothing like the other one. Apparently they had some things in common!

Three days before I left, he decided that the job wasn't for him and quit (that was a good thing, he should have done it sooner.) He decided that he was coming home with me so he could take a break from life before plunging in and looking for a new job. I called my parents and they said they were glad to have him. I might add that they went out and got extra stuff for him at the last minute.

So we had a great visit. He had family close to mine and I got to meet them as well. As we left to go back to the city we live in we had this conversation: Him: So how much did you get? Me: What? Him: How much did your parents give you? Me: Are you talking about the kitchen stuff? (They had given me a blender and some really nice juice glasses.) Him: I got $50 from my grandfather and another $30 from my Aunt, how much did you get? Me: My parents don't give me money. Him: What? They give you these cheap presents and they don't give you any money? Their present to me only cost $40. That's so cheap. I know they make lots more money than my relatives. I know they can afford to give you extra spending money. Me: I'm an adult and I should learn to live on my own income - they won't be around forever. Besides, what are they? An ATM machine? Him: What's the point of visiting relatives if you don't get money for it? Me: I like being with them. Him: They should have paid for our plane tickets too. They shouldn't expect visits if we have to go our of our way and spend money for them.

Is it any wonder that we didn't last until New Year's Day?


After dating for 8 months, my loser ex boyfriend spent $1,000 on his motorcycle a week before my birthday, so I guess that only left enough for me to get a $20 bath and body works gift set with the price left on it.  I guess I knew where I stood after that.  But I thank him for letting me see the real him before I invested anymore time in him.  



Through my regular participation in local contra dances, I met a guy. He seemed very nice, and went out of his way to do things that would attract my attention and interest. He seemed to be open, communicative, and interested in a relationship. Plus he'd been a professional (unlike the immediately-previous BF), owned a house, was well-educated, and spent a lot of effort working on his personal growth (group counseling and individual sessions). We hung out together for a few months during the summer...since he was not working and I was self-employed, I invited him along on my business sales trips, and paid him for the work he'd done. Meals and such were dutch treat. 

He had a few odd habits, such as demanding to know, "what are you feeling?" When I couldn't provide an answer fast enough, he'd respond with stony silence or confront everything I said with "So????!?" This was his way of encouraging conversation. Often it would devolve into me getting emotional (frankly, I felt belittled by someone demanding emotional closeness) and then he'd get angry. Fortunately we lived some distance apart, and he pulled this stunt close to departure time. Invariably, as we were saying our good-byes, he'd pull me into a tight warm hug, and start sobbing huge tears. Of course, any effort I made to determine the source of his unhappiness was rebuffed; he could demand that I try to explain my emotional state, but he sure couldn't discuss his own. 

The coup de grace came in the fall when he arranged for us to play pool with a buddy of his and that guy's girlfriend. Generally I avoid smoky bars, and I had not shot pool since my teenage years in the early '70s, but at that time I had been pretty good at making the colorful balls go into the little holes. And as I recalled, that was the objective of the game. This was in their part of town, so when I arrived, "Bob," "Alice," and "Homer" were already shooting a round. They finished, and my fellow Homer invited me to "break." So I did, and two balls (a solid and a striped) each went into the holes. I thought that was pretty good, but darling Homer reacted differently. He said, "Let me teach you how to hold a pool cue." 

For the rest of the evening, whenever it was my turn to shoot, Homer would position himself across the table from me, directly in my line of vision, and mimic someone trying to shoot pool while suffering from manual paralysis and an inability to control facial expressions. In short, he looked like Jerry Lewis doing his "mentally impaired" schtick. I was able to ignore this and sink some more balls, but when it came time to "call the shot," I did not do this, and Homer abruptly told me, "you lose." He would not explain what rule I had broken or that I was supposed to call the shot. (In the subsequent years I looked it up.) While this was going on, it was increasingly uncomfortable for Bob and Alice and me. I wanted to tell Homer to knock it off, but instead racked my brain for a polite way to do it that wouldn't result in someone (me) storming out angry or miserable. And I didn't want to embarrass him in front of his buddy (although he was already doing a fine job of that). What was I thinking? The contemporary "me" would never put up with this, but at the time I was desperate to have this guy like me. 

Finally that interminable game was completed, we all said goodbye, and Homer and I went out to the parking lot. He wouldn't even look at me, stood facing slightly away. I waited. "That wasn't about playing pool," he finally said. But he wouldn't tell me what it was about. Control, manipulation, rudeness do come to mind. In the decade since, I've come to realize that no relationship is worth sacrificing my self-esteem, and I've made a short list of glaring red flags that will have me heading for the hills. If that's how the guy acts in a recreational game, we're not getting to a point where I might need to rely on him.


Many years ago, my then-boyfriend and I took a break after dating for two years. We agreed to spend two weeks apart as we were having a few problems, and to get together at the end to see if we wanted to continue the relationship. When those two weeks were up we met and talked everything over, and we had both felt that we still wanted to be together and would go ahead with plans we had made to move in with each other.

After we had decided this, we were sitting cuddled up in a chair when my boyfriend noticed the time and said he was meeting someone at the movies shortly. I asked who it was, thinking it would be one of our mutual friends and I would tag along. It turned out that he had made a date with a cute attendant at a gas station, and was going to keep the date even though we had just agreed to move in together. He just didn't get it that there was anything wrong with that!

Needless to say, he did NOT go on that date after I told him what I thought of it. If only I had taken the hint and saved myself an extra two years of being with such a clueless loser!


I had somehow become a regular at a local bar. I made a few friends, and one girl in particular took a special interest in my love life. She decided that what I needed was a date!   She introduced me to a man who was not very attractive or intelligent, but seemed nice and desperate, and she begged. I agreed.   

This man did not own a car, so I was forced to drive. He decided to take me to a new restaurant across town. He did not grasp the concept of reservations, so the wait was over 2 hours. I had already decided that I was not going to be spending much time with this man, so waiting was out of the question.   The closest place to eat was an Olive Garden. Fine. Who doesn't like the Olive Garden?   We get in, sit down, and order. I order soup, he orders salad.   The server brought the first course. I began to eat my soup, and he began to eat his salad. OUT OF THE BIG SALAD BOWL!!!   The table manners on this man were more than disgusting. I could go on, but I have tried to repress most of the date from my long term memory.   I must let you all know that I come from a family were my first book was Emily Post, and at the dinner table, I had to eat my soup the right way, or I got sent to my room!   Anyway, I lied, told him I had to take my grandmother to church in the morning. I dropped him off at his home, went back to the bar, and told my "friend" I would never go on any more of her dates!   


So here it is, the mother of all things in bad taste. It's long, but worth it-     It was a few years ago, Senior Prom. My boyfriend had already graduated, but was still attending the dance with me. His best friend was also a senior at the time, and we decided to go together with a third couple. It should be a blast, right?

Well, this friend, who we will call Tom, had a girlfriend of a few years. She was a junior, and therefore could only go to the prom if invited by her senior boyfriend. So he did, and we made plans. The plans included a limo, and dinner at a restaurant that was outrageously expensive. This restaurant also did special things for couples going to the prom, and made each couple pre-order their dinner. Steak, lobster, shrimp scampi, and other wonderful items were on the menu. He confirmed with the restaurant, and on the night of the prom our limo delivered us there. Once seated, "Sandy" as we will call her, found out steak and lobster was on the menu.

She started to whine, and I could feel my cheeks flushing from embarrassment. The other couple, which was one of my best friends and her date, gave me and my boyfriend 'the look'. It's not like this was the first time.

But, since this was such a classy establishment, they waiter offered to bring her a vegetarian dinner. Fine, she said. When she received it, it was obvious that Tom had just paid over $100 for asparagus and mashed potatoes. The problem was, the restaurant had prepared steak and lobster for her, so they still had to charge for it!

And it gets better. Instead of eating every freakin' bit on that hand painted plate, she pushed it around. "What kind of potatoes are green?" she asked the waiter, who replied that they were pesto mashed potatoes. "Oh" she said, barely hiding her contempt. She ate about two bites, then started whining to her date about how gross it was. To make the evening even more special, Tom couldn't remember some etiquette rule, and she patted him on the arm and said "It's not your fault that you don't have any manners honey, your mom didn't raise you well...". Oh yeah, she said that. Literally. Stunned silence followed.

And to close out the evening, Sandy decided that her two bites (remember, the ones that cost about $50 each?) didn't fill her up, so she made us stop the limo on the way home and buy her a hamburger from Wendy's. I am totally serious. And, he bought it for her!!!!!! But wait, there's more!

To top off the magical evening, Tom had spent too much money, or not brought enough (maybe the trip to Wendy's broke him?), and he could only afford like $35 for the limo. The bill for the limo was over $150, not including the tip. So my date and I, as well as the other couple, had to cover the rest. And Tom has never paid us back.



So I had been out a few times with Norbert, and once again, I found I had selected another young suitor without a car. I did not normally mind if I was the only one driving, but it had become a little tiresome. Norbert had organized a USA delegation to the International Championship Game of Kick the Can in Europe. However, Norbert trusted some idiot in another state that he had never met (the person not the state) to get him a wicked cheap airfare, that required a bizarre game of chance in terms of which flight he would take. This was before 9/11, I don't know that this process still exists. 

Apparently, three days before traveling, Norbert realized he might be screwed and stuck in the middle of the US, totally landlocked. The only way for this to be solved was for him to go face-to-face with a higher up customer service person at a ticket counter for SunnySkies Airlines. So I drove him to Log-on Airport. (*snerk*) and we solved the problem, after waiting on line FOREVER, with him whining and fretting and getting progressively weirder and more annoying. I paid for parking and tolls. Norbert calmed down considerably to the point where he was not longer embarrassing to be around.  

He suggested we go to dinner. I agreed, figuring, "Aha! I misjudged him, he was really stressed, and now I have helped him out of it and he wants to thank me. How nice." We went to dinner. His voice changed from a pleasantly expressive tone to a flat, creepy tone. He told me long, sad stories about his mentally ill mother and his own lack of social skills. (REALLY!) When the check came, he grabbed it and I didn't argue - after all, I had just driven him all over creation and paid for it myself. He looked at the bill, and said "Let's see here.... OK, you had the Chardonnay, so...." at which point I grabbed $30 from my purse and threw it down (my share was more like 18 or 20.... but whatever. I had a 20 and 10.) and said "oh, for god's sake. HERE!"

He looked at the money, opened his wallet and asked - "Do you have another dollar?"

I replied, blinking two or three times, "No." and began watching the hockey game on TV.

I didn't think we would be going out again after that.

Norbert called me a few weeks after his European trip and asked when we'd get together again.


After my divorce, and I was ready to start dating again, I signed up with a few on line dating agencies.  I got a ton of weirdoes, which I quickly screened out.  Then "Mike" emailed me.  He seemed nice enough, we exchanged a few emails, finally went on to a phone call.   Again, he seemed nice enough, seemed to have a good sense of humor, seemed smart.  We exchanged pictures.  Not a bad looking guy.. pics are kinda out of focus ... but to me, it's not looks, but what the person truly is.  We decided to meet.  

He told me he was 5'10" and 170 lbs.  Nice size, since I'm 5'2" and 125.  So, I go to the public location where we are to meet.  I don't see any 5'10" guy walking around, but I do see this little nervous guy about 5'1" and maybe.. MAYBE 110 lbs.  Yup.  Not only was I taller, but I outweighed him.   That was Mike.   We decided to go to a huge open market in Seattle for our date.  This guy IMMEDIATELY latched onto me and would not let go.  Each time we walked by another guy, Mike would wrap both arms around me and cling to me.  UGH.  Finally I had to pat his arm and say "Don't worry.. I'll protect you."   

Mike must have suffered from sinus problems.  He kept blowing his nose into his hanky.    He'd pull out that hanky, honk loudly into it, THEN PEEK!!   Also, he kept um.... releasing intestinal pressure.  We all fart, and sometimes one does slip out.  You get embarrassed, say excuse me, and move on.  Not this guy. He kept farting.  Didn't say boo diddly about it either.   

We went into one of the shops there.  It had all kinds of old stuff, which I love looking at.  I picked up a hat, tried it on, and thought it looked really cute.  The price was much much MUCH more than I would have thought, and I said a surprised "Sh*t!!"    You'd think I just ran over Mike's mother the way he carried on.  He threw his arms up, looked completely surprised, stuttered.. and said he's not used to such 'foul language.'  

Well, by this time I know the date's gonna end soon and it's gonna be the ONLY date.  So I had to have fun with him.  I started saying every cuss word I could think of just to watch his reaction.   We got hungry, so we went to eat.  He said he couldn't eat spicy as it didn't agree with him.  So we went to a Chinese place and got Mongolian Beef.  Um... SPICY!  The waiter kinda tossed two menus onto a dirty table in the corner and said that was our table and pointed us there.  He brought the tea, I poured (Mike's cup first, manners you know) and the pot kinda slopped a bit.  Mike jumped up, squealed like a little girl, threw his arms up and jumped back about 3 feet.  All for a drop of tea that landed on the table.   

The Mongolian Beef comes and we start eating.  I used the chopsticks and wasn't paying attention to Mike, kinda just nodding and saying "uh huh" a lot.  I was starving so was eating.  I ate a good 2/3 of my lunch, then glanced at Mike's plate.  He barely had 1/4 of his gone.  He said "Oh, I chew each bite 27 times.  It helps me digest it better."  Sheesh.   I said I wanted to go home as I had to pick up my son and take him to a movie I had promised to take him to.  We're walking to the car and I was putting my earrings in my ears.  I have 7 holes.  He looked kinda nervous and asked if I had my nose pierced.  I don't, but I have a teeny gold hoop earring that will sit just right so it looks like I do.  I put that on and grinned at him.  He looked even MORE nervous and asked if I had anything else pierced.  Right there on the streets of Seattle I said, loudly, "SURE!!  Both nipples!!  Wanna see??"  and started unbuttoning my shirt.  The look on his face was priceless.   That was a first date/LAST date with that guy.  I did call him up and thank him for a memorable afternoon (hey, I didn't lie!), but I don't think we'd be compatible in a serious dating situation.


Hi Jeanne,   After reading your section on bad dates, I have to tell you this story.  It was the absolute worst New Years Eve I've ever lived through, but... there is a very wonderful ending to the story.  I had just broken up with a boyfriend and decided that I was going to have a great time on New Years Eve no matter what.  I mentioned this to an acquaintance and told him of my plans:  Go to a favorite Irish pub, have a pint of Guinness and see one of my favorite bands play.  Since he didn't have any plans, I invited him to come along, with the express understanding that this wasn't a romantic date and I wasn't in any way looking for a relationship, because I was still heartbroken over my breakup.  This is fine with him and we made plans for the evening.  

New Years Eve rolls around and I had to work that day.  When I got back from lunch, there's a very pretty vase of flowers sitting on my desk, from my friend. A little strange, but it was a nice thought.  I pick him up that evening and he makes sure to let me know that his daughter had helped him pick out an outfit for the evening and it took them over an hour.  Okay.   We get to the pub and I order a half pint and a plate of corned beef and cabbage.  He orders a shot of vodka, calling the waitress darling and putting his hand dangerously close to her derriere.  He drank 4 more shots before I was even halfway through with my dinner!  

Intoxicated to the point of actually falling out of his chair, he began telling me about his anger management classes, the physical fights he and his ex wife got into and how he hadn't been in a barfight for a whole 6 weeks (and he was proud of that!)  At this point, I was beginning to get a little nervous, but I was determined to have a good time, so I did my best to ignore him.  He continued to drink and started acting aggressively toward any male that happened to look in my direction, including one of the members of the band that was playing, leering at me, and touching me constantly, even though I asked him not to.  It was pretty obvious that his intentions were much different than he'd led me to believe and the notion that I wasn't ready for a relationship was totally lost on him.  

Shortly before midnight, I realized that I had a disposable camera in my pocket from a recent trip that I took and excused myself, stating that I wanted a few pictures of the band. I found a spot on the corner of the stage and this got me away from him for a while, but a few minutes after midnight, he tracked me down, looking for a New Years Eve kiss.  Instead, I told him that I was ready to go home.  He did and asked me if he was making me uncomfortable.  I told him that he was making me a little uncomfortable and he said "Well, I made you a little uncomfortable and only fell out of my chair once.  I'm doing pretty good!"  Lovely!      

When we got into my car, I was honestly afraid of the guy.  I mean, he admittedly has problems with his temper, has a history of being violent and he was disgustingly drunk.  I got my canister of pepper spray out of my glove compartment and told him that if he made a single move toward me, I'd spray him and leave him on the side of the highway.  He was on his best behavior on the way home.  He IM'ed me a few days later and asked how I thought the evening went (he apparently forgot about the pepper spray thing) and did I want to get together again.  I was honest with him and told him that I had a horrible evening, cried when I got home that night and I never wanted to see him again.  He blamed his aggressiveness on chivalry (?!?!?!?) and begged me to give him another chance, because... he's really not like that and he drank too much because he was nervous.  I declined.   

The happy ending I mentioned?  Well, due to this date from hell, I really didn't get to see the band play, which was one of my reasons for wanting to go out that evening to begin with.  I found out that they were playing again that weekend at the same pub and went to see them, alone this time.  When I was taking pictures of the band that night, I caught the eye of the singer, who is a very charming Irishman, although he almost twice my age and I made it a rule never to date anyone more than 10 years older than me.  We spent every break chatting and I figured that, hey, that bad date ended up allowing me to meet a very cool person, so it all turned out just fine.  

It gets better.  Long story short:  We continued to have many of those wonderful evenings, I decided to disregard my policy on dating older men and that charming Irish musician is now my wonderful husband.  The pictures that I took that New Years Eve are the first photos that we have in our family photo album and I still laugh about the circumstances.  I did hear from Mr. Bad Date shortly before my wedding (which was perfect!) and he was shocked that I'd marry an old, balding musician rather than give him another shot. 



A short story, but one that left me with my mouth hanging open at the time.

I was a birth coach for my younger sister Jess, since her boyfriend Mike didn't want to do it. One evening when she was eight months along, we were walking back to my apartment when he pulled up beside us in his car and started yelling at her, ending in them breaking up, and her no longer having a place to live. We muddle through, like always, and everything seems to be going okay. Jess goes into labor at 4 in the morning. She was in labor for about fourteen hours when Mike shows up, proudly telling everyone in the waiting room that his son was being born... and he brought his new girlfriend with him. Even the nurses were offended on Jess's behalf by this!


Page Last Updated May 15, 2007