Thursday, April 26, 2007

Didn't Your Mom Ever Teach You Not To Go Bar-Hopping?

This next submission is not as much as funny as it is eye-opening. The author, (who wishes to remain anonymous) wrote in the introduction in her email as follows:

I was so stupid, I should be whipped soundly. But if by reading the following dating horror story, someone learns a lesson, then it works for me. It’s not very amusing, so I’ll understand if you don’t want to publish it.
Of course she is right. It should be something to learn from. Just goes to show you... it ain't all looks! But this is still a Date Out Of Hell!
Years ago… I must have been 24 or 25 at the time… I went bar-hopping with my best friend and a friend of his. At the time I was living in Flint, Michigan and although I had a child at home, I was living with my parents so I had a pretty free and easy life. My best friend knew of this awesome new jazz bar where we could hang out, listen to some good music and try to pick up members of the opposite sex – girls for him and his friend, guys for me.

It wasn’t too long before I noticed this incredible specimen sitting at the bar. Drop dead gorgeous. I caught his eyes and gave him my best come-hither look. He smiled and shot his best back at me. It was lust at first sight. For the next couple hours, we were inseparable – playing pool, dancing, and talking. He was everything I was looking for in a guy – smart, funny, gainfully employed - and he was hot to boot. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was.

Around midnight, he asked me if I wanted to blow the jazz bar and head over to one of the local dance clubs. At least several gin and tonics past the rational thinking point and topping out the hormone meter, I said, “Sure”. Thereby leaving my friends and my ride behind. (I was lucky he was a nice guy, and not some psychotic serial rapist.)

We went to the other bar and this guy just kept racking up brownie points with me. He was a good dancer; he held the door for me; he battled the crowd to approach the bar and he paid for everything. What a man.

Two o’clock rolled around, and we left the club headed for his car – holding hands and almost unable to keep our hands off each other. It was wonderful. After several minutes of intense smooching, he leans back in his seat and reaches above his car’s visor. I had no idea what he was doing, and I wasn’t really caring at that point. Then he reaches up and removes his rearview mirror, and in the dark, fiddles with something in his hand. Before I knew it, he was sniffing along the surface of the mirror.

I was too stunned to speak. Here we were, and this perfect guy was doing a line of coke right there in front of me. He offered me some, and it was all I could do not to scream “No.” I very politely refused and then very politely asked him to take me home.

Needless to say, when he called to ask me out, I refused. He didn’t understand, even when I told him my policy on drugs, but he accepted my choice. I'm just lucky it didn't get ugly.

To this day, I still think how sad it was that a guy who had so much going for him felt the need to mess his brain up with drugs.
Submitted by: Anonymous

No comments: