Sorry Dear, You’re an Amateur

The other day I was checking out the wordpress title page for some reading. I spotted a blog under the humour section that intrigued me. The topic of the blog was the most embarrassing date ever. O.K. I was game, so I read it. The long and the short of it was that after a good night kiss the poor woman on the date had a horrible allergic reaction to some orange juice that her date had consumed in the morning. Now I know that suddenly being covered in hives when you want to look your best can be seen as embarrassing but, this was the end of the date, she looked good the rest of the evening and this was a potentially dangerous situation. Really, as I see it there was nothing to be embarrassed about.

What would embarrass me and constitute a bad date in my mind would be the following type of scenario:
Let’s say that a young woman (we can call her Lola) and a young man (we can call him LFH, short for Lola’s Future Husband) decide that for their fourth date they will go away on vacation together. Separate rooms because they’re not that kind of guy/girl. All is going well. They decide to be adventurous and go mopeding together. It’s her first time on a moped. All is going well. What’s that up ahead? Cattle crossing the road? OK, stop let them cross, go slowly, don’t want to wipe out in any manure. Phew that went well. Why has LFH slowed down so much again? There’s no cattle, only a very black stretch of road. Ha, ha, ha I can pass him. Hey!! That road’s black because it’s fresh tar!!! Look at me slide…. Flat on my ass… No pain, no injury just a lot of black tar all down my backside. LFH is not laughing. Thank you for that. A very kind man witnessed the whole thing and called Lola over to his hut where he gave her a manicure set and gasoline to clean off her hands (such kindness can only be imagined, because of course this never really happened). The mopeds get walked back to the hotel. The young couple return to their rooms to get tidied up and go for a swim. Lola’s shorts are history, Lola’s undies are history. Oh my G-d Lola’s behind is history. How can she possibly clean the tar off back there on her own and how will she get the gasoline to do it? She doesn’t. She has to ask for help. She dies a thousand deaths while being de-tarred (yes, she’s a de-tarred) and becomes that old joke; What’s black and white and red all over? Lola wants the ground to swallow her up, she can’t make eye contact with LFH. LFH is handling this well, no teasing just taking care of the task at hand. He finishes and suggests a fun swim in the ocean. Lola, to hide her mortification must be a good sport. They change, each in his/her own room of course and head out into the ocean. Lola trying to pretend that the tarring never happened. She jumps into the waves only to feel searing pain and she swears like a sailor. Jellyfish! She’s just been stung. Out of the ocean, the life guard rubs her leg with a combination of lime juice and sand. She’s OK, back into the ocean. Once again, unbelievable pain. More jellyfish. Only Lola gets stung, why is that? More lime juice and sand.

Lola looks at LFH and states, “I think I need to go to bed and pretend today never happened.”
LFH looks at her and smiles, puts his arm around her and says – Honestly I don’t know what he said that part is eclipsed by the rest of the day that never actually happened to me.

If it had happened to me, I would have to say that, that has got to be the most embarrassing date ever. I dare you, go ahead top me with a worse story. I bet you can’t do it.

Also, if the above were true I would add that our first date was to see the movie Fatal Attraction. Not an auspicious beginning.


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