Horrendous Dates

Finding that right somebody is hard. Some would say impossible. (I’m with that “some.”). The two sexes are just so different. For instance, if I wore one of my brother’s shirts, he didn’t care. But, boy, you’d think the world was ending if my sister caught me wearing one of her skirts.

Even the charges on our credit cards reveal a world of difference. An itemized bill for a girl might list shoes, spas, and hair stylists…as opposed to a man’s bill, showing Hooters, Tequila Jims, The Elephant Grill, Roid’s Sports Bar and Home Depot. The crazy thing is, women have something to show for their purchases. All men have are some hangovers and a monkey wrench.

Even with all our differences, for whatever reason, men and women tend to seek each other out. We go out, banter small talk, tease, flirt, kiss and fight. Our hope is to find that special someone to spend a lifetime with… or at least a couple of months.

I’ve been married twice. The first time was when I was six-years-old. It only lasted a month. It was a bitter break up. My little five-year-old ex got the house in the tree, full custody of my stuffed animals and half my toys. I vowed I’d never do it again. I was wrong. Time had healed the wounds. Eventually, the tree house was struck by lightening and the stuffed animals found their way to Goodwill. I still keep in touch with the puffy panda.

My second marriage lasted seven years. I guess you could say I lived through The Great Depression. The day after the divorce was final, my wife and I became friends. I know I had faults. From the beginning of the marriage I started sleeping around…I slept on the couch, in the garage, in the dog house... it just depends how pissed off she was.

The other day I stopped by to see her. I brought her some flowers, the little ones with the yellow pedals and the beige, speckled arsenic powder on them. Anyway, she was standing there holding her cat. My God, did that thing smell. She was hissing at me, her hair was all natty and she had fleas. Honestly, I don’t how the cat could stand being around her. They say forgiveness helps you move on, but I just hadn’t reached that point yet. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for sleeping with this monster.

Believe me, I wasn’t husband of the year. I would always forget little things like taking out the trash, and remembering birthdays and anniversaries. I think if I ever get married again I’ll wed on Christmas Day, so later on in life when my wife says I forgot our anniversary I’ll say, “No, I didn’t, remember that present under the tree you opened this morning…” Kill two stones with one bird. And, if I can find a girl who was born on December 25th, I’m golden—I’ll be covered on all fronts.

And men, another thing to keep in mind when you start dating,, the first present you get for your lover should be something simple like a pencil, mainly because women expect a better present the next time. I once dated a girl for five years, and on our fifth year anniversary I got her a box kite. Had I gotten her that the first year, I might be looking at buying her a pair of shoes on that fifth year. Go cheap early. The cheaper the better and the easier it will be down the line.

As in any relationship, there is a time to love and a time to fight. Fighting happens quite a bit in a marriage. I always thought that a priest should never end a marriage ceremony with, “I now pronounce you husband and wife,” but instead with, “Let’s get ready to rumble!” The eventual break up wasn’t my fault though. My wife actually ran off with my best friend. To this day, I’ve never been able to thank him enough. Whenever your best friend dates your wife, I don’t care who you are, it always puts a crimp in the relationship. Plus, you spend half the day feeling sorry for him. But whatever the reason, I’ve always found that marriage is the quickest way to a divorce.

I live in a condo and I’ve been seeing this girl for about three months now who lives in the apartment across the street…but that’s just ’cause I have a pair of binoculars. What can I say? I enjoy window shopping.

It’s tough getting back out into the dating world. I’ve had some crazy dates recently. I put up an ad on some on-line dating service. I was up-front, honest and truthful. I said I wanted an old-fashioned girl who would stay at home and cook and clean for me. I got one “interested” response. It was from my mom. Maybe it was my profile picture of Tony Curtis that caught her eye. I always wanted to find a girl just like my mom, but at this point I’m willing to settle for any girl who’s had a mom.

The last girl I went out with wasn’t very bright. When I met her at the restaurant she was wearing these big wooden shoes. I asked her why she was wearing them and she replied, “I thought you said we was going Dutch tonight.” And, when we were looking at our menus I asked her if she wanted to share something. She said, “Okay, when I was ten I French kissed my babysitter.” I told her I meant share something off the menu. Eventually the food came she just stared at her meal for twenty minutes. I asked her what she was waiting for. She said she was just watching what she eats. Sometime during the dinner she got up and went to the bathroom. As women are prone to do, she took her purse with her. Now, ladies, how do you think that makes us guys feel, sitting there, with nothing to rummage through?

I like women of all shapes and sizes. I went out with a chubby oriental chick named Sue Wee. She was kind of shaped like Dodger Stadium, but that’s just a ballpark figure. She was a really nice person, and it didn’t matter that she had reverse anorexia. There was just more to love. Much more. As the relationship progressed she threw out that dreadful question one night: “Do you think I’m getting fat?” I didn’t want to make her feel bad, so I softly stroked her hair and said, “No honey, you’ve always been fat.” She told me she had recently lost twenty pounds and I made the mistake of gently responding, “Well look behind you and you’ll find it.” (I thought women like honesty in a man.) Maybe I was crazy, but there was something cute about the way her cheeks would flap in the wind—all four of ’em. All in all, I did feel something for her. It was like magic every time I saw her. Magic was the only way I could explain how she got her butt into those jeans.

I once dated a really skinny girl. I'll never forget the first time I held her. She felt so good between my fingers. I was playful, swinging her like a five iron. Sometime during the relationship we became engaged and she wore my ring…on her wrist. I use to carry a picture of her in my wallet—on the side of my license. We eventually broke up and I later heard she moved to Colorado to become a ski pole.

Another time, I went out with this lively Italian bella. This girl had beautiful, dark shiny hair; unfortunately it was on her upper lip. Maybe I’m picky, but I only like a handlebar on a bike. Come to find out, she was easy…easy like Sunday morning. Her nickname was “fire sale” ’cause her pants were always half off. I hate to admit it, but I think that was a big reason why we lasted so long.

I don’t like people who cling to me, invade my space, never leave me alone—which is why I refuse to sleep with myself. I’m too needy. I like attention. I can have people talk about me all night long. Really. I’m riveted by the conversation…and sickened too.

I went through a dry spell for awhile. I actually hired a maid just so I could tell my friends I have a girl over the house at least once a week. I was so hard up for some companionship that I took my living room lamp out to dinner. Talk about a cheap date, although she was extremely bright. The night out went badly. I tried everything from compliments to sweet talk, but no matter what I said to the sexy lighting stand, I couldn’t turn it on. I got frustrated so I started drinking. Then I became drunk and ended up wearing her lampshade for half the night. Incidentally, the lamp thought I looked great in the dark.

Some time ago, I went out with a very sweet visually impaired person. Yeah, I guess you could say it was a blind date. I took her to a nice romantic restaurant, and as were leaving McDonalds I began to drive her home. (Luckily, I was the one who drove.) Anyway, when we were in the car I felt this heaving breathing and nibbling in my ear. So I turned to kiss her and it was her seeing-eye dog. I decided to drop the girl off and go out dancing with the dog. A week later the dog dumped me. Two weeks later I went to the doctor and it wasn’t good news. The bitch gave me fleas.

At times I’ll go out fishing in some bar, trying to reel in an easy catfish. One time I saw this quiet, homely girl in the corner, sipping on a glass of wine. I got up my nerve, went over to her and said, “Excuse me, are you free this evening?” She smiled, and the next thing you know we went back at her place. She had lied to me. She wasn’t free that night…she was $300 an hour.

I tried dating an older woman, but we had nothing in common. She was looking for a rich man to support her and I was trying to figure out if her husband died and left her any money. It’s tough to carry a conversation when she’s rambling on about her senior discount on pharmaceutical medications and I’m describing a [i]Family Guy[i] episode.

I know I’m not great-looking. I’m not good-looking. I’m not even okay -looking. I’m just looking…looking for someone who can tolerate me. Toleration is a noble and rare quality. I would just like to find a woman who will (wink, wink) you know (wink, wink) go out in public with me. Look, you never know whom life is going to throw your way. It’s easy to get lost trying to find someone. I know what women like…they’d like for me to leave ’em alone. Finding the right person is a painstaking process. Before you settle down with someone, make sure that person is a friend, a lover, and a beautiful person. So do what ya gotta do…and then tell me how to do it.