Sunday, January 26, 2014
Possibly My Worst Date Ever
2 summers ago I had the biggest crush on this girl. She was gorgeous, smart, funny, and just freaking perfect. It took me a long time to work up the courage to finally ask her out. I had planned this amazing date and we had all this flirty texting leading up to it. Everything started sooo good.
The day of the date, I had gotten a ride with my friend to and back from work. I had a few hours before I had to pick her up so I went through my whole routine: pumping out a 100 push ups, taking a shower, applying tanning spray, doing my hair, meditating, putting on my lucky pukka shell necklace, doing my hair again. All that good stuff. Then I start looking for my keys and I could not find them.
Eventually I realize that I left them at work which causes me to trash my room looking for the spare key, but I can't find it. Now I am panicking. I call my roommate to ask if I can borrow his car, but he needs to use it later, but.......but he lets me borrow it to run to my work and grab my keys and come back. I jump into his car ready to speed off but the bloody thing won't go into reverse. I twisted every knob, pushed every button, and pulled every lever I could get my hands on. Putting the car into neutral, I get out, push the car back out the parking spot and then jump in. Strategically driving so that I never had to go in reverse again, I finally get my car keys and make it back to my apartment.
Miraculously I get to my date's apartment only a few minutes late and in time to make it to our show. We had been driving for a few minutes before I finally able to relax. And that's when it hit me.
Holy Mother of Bob it smelt like BO. Like really bad. Like really really bad. I am shocked I had not noticed it before. It had to be me. This was the middle of the summer and of course my roommate's god forsaken car had no A/C. It was like a Sauna in there. During all that running, pushing, and stressing it appears I had done alot of what is known in the medical community as "Sweating your gonads off". I hadn't had time to take another shower and I had been so focused on getting to her apartment on time that I failed to realize just how disgusting I was.
Game over. Before it even started. There was no way she wasn't smelling it. Children and dogs the next county over could smell it. There is no recovering from that I don't care who you are. Rolling down the windows was an empty gesture at that point. I wanted to just turn around, take her home, apologize, douse myself in gasoline and light a match. Needless to say there was no second date.
You win some, you lose some.