Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Bad Date #1

This is how I remember it:

So this Mohawk chick that fell in love with me two weeks into my Junior year of high school agreed to meet me at the Dead Kennedys show.  I had had one "girlfriend" by this time but in the anthropological sense was still not a “man”.  Anyway, this broad had cool hair and a bad attitude so I thought I'd see where it would get me. 

I was waiting outside of the show for my "date" to show up, losing faith in her supposed love for me.  I was dancing in the cold waiting for my supposed amore, shuffling from foot to foot and beating back the cold air.  I don’t care what anyone says, a leather jacket from Bermans and a pair of Chuck Taylors are not made for November in Minneapolis. She finally showed up 40 minutes late, made some small talk about how she was really tired, and then went in to the show.  We found some floor space against the back wall where she promptly fell asleep in my lap.

After the gig, which she slept through, we set up a "make-up" bowling date for the next afternoon.  Bowling, sport of Kings!

Now I had been on a bowling team a scant few years prior, and I still had a good average, high game of that day was 189.  We went to pay at the end of our 3 lines and I found out that in the ensuing 4 years the cost of this most noble sport had about doubled.  I was $3 short.  She had no cash whatsoever, so I did what any chivalric man would do.  I ran home in the snow to beg some money from my parents.
My dad gave me the necessary sums and told me to run my ass off back to the bowling alley.  Leaving my date there was just not class, he said.

Two bad dates in a row, one her fault and one mine.

We ended up staying together for a few years. 

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