Imagine getting fixed up with the same guy TWICE!

This temperamental beast restarted AGAIN! UGH!

These are from my copy of America’s Dumbest Dates: Over 500 Tales of Fumbled Flirtations.

First Impressions

“I wanted to impress Jeff, so I insisted on driving. I got into the driver’s seat and, with infinite grace and aplomb, slammed my hand into the car door. My fingers swelled up like golf balls. We spent our date in the emergency room, where I got my rings cut off and fourteen stitches in my pinkie. He was impressed, believe me.” – Meg.

“When Walt asked me out, he said I should cook and he’d bring the entertainment. Turned out he was an Amway salesman. The “entertainment” was their packaged presentation. It wasn’t enough that I’d cooked; he wanted me to buy his detergent, too.” – Amy, age 30.

“For our first date, I invited Joe to dinner. He brought Tupperware, to take home the leftovers.” – Sophia, age 35.

“Howard didn’t want to date me; he wanted to date my skirt. When he asked me out, I was wearing this skintight, lime-green suede miniskirt. When he came to get me, his face fell. He pouted and asked where the skirt was.” – Gigi, age 35.

“When she opened the door, I was expecting her to be someone else. I’d met her and her girlfriend at the same time, and I’d intended to call the other one. I got their names mixed up. I tried to explain, and she threw me out.” – Ethan, age 33.

“In her personal ad, she’d described herself as having a “great mind, greater body. Stunning.” By “great,” she must have meant “large.” But she was right about the stunning part. I was quite stunned. In fact, I was speechless.” – Louie, age 37.

“Lance invited me over for a drink. The door was open. He yelled, “Come in,” and greeted me, wearing nothing but a silk smoking jacket. It struck me as funny, and I burst out laughing. He made me a drink and sat there, in the jacket and his birthday suit, acting as if everything was completely normal. We talked. I had a couple of drinks and left. Neither of us mentioned the fact that he was naked. Actually, he was a perfect gentleman.” – Sally, age 33.

“When he asked me out, he was wearing a baseball cap. When he came to get me, he wasn’t wearing it. I didn’t recognize him. He was completely bald, not a hair on his head. Not an eyebrow.” – Erin, age 24.

“Ben took me out and introduced me to his car. “This is Suzy,” he said, “Isn’t she beautiful? She’s not just a Trans Am. She’s my baby.” Then he stroked the hood.” – Beth, age 27.

“In anticipation of our date, Curtis sent me poetry – about eternal love, reincarnation, knowing me in another lifetime. Fate and destiny. It was scary. Especially the meter.” – Ruth, age 30.

“I hired a guy to write a brochure for work. The guy messed up the job and missed the deadline, so I chewed him out and fired him. Guess who my blind date was the next Saturday night?” – Dodie, age 36.

“I got fixed up with the same guy twice. He was just as boring the second time. The first date was so dull that neither of us had even remembered the other’s name.” – Marcia, age 35.

“On our first date, Wes brought his buddy along. They sat shoulder to shoulder, snickered at private jokes, whispered. I wondered, what am I doing here? And then, when they both dropped me off, Wes asked if I wanted to go out again next week.” – Lynda, age 33.

“On our first date, as he walked toward me for the first time, I saw that he had no right arm. I was upset, wondering what could have happened to him. A car accident? Bone cancer? It was such a shame. I tried hard not to let my eyes drift down to where his arm should have been; I didn’t want him to feel self-conscious. But I was nervous. I stuttered, babbled, heard myself sound absolutely brainless as we greeted each other. Finally, he said “We ought to get going,” and from behind his back, his right arm suddenly appeared to guide me to the car. I was stunned. Speechless. He might as well have pulled out a herd of elephants. Or a dozen naked ladies. I was in a cold sweat, traumatized, and our date hadn’t even started yet.” – Leslie, age 28.

“So there I am, telling her about my pal Al, who we’re going to double with. And guess who her first heartthrob was? Guess who broke her heart in tenth grade? Guess who never got over it?” – Warren, age 33.

“After our first date, Gary left a Polaroid of his erection on my windshield – with a note telling me to call him when I was ready to go out again.” – Linda, age 39.

“When I got home, I realized that the back seam of my pants had split wide open. Did it happen when I sat down in the car to come home, after I’d put on my jacket? Or had it happened earlier? The whole time we were at the party, did everyone have a view of my panties? My date said nothing to me about it; was he laughing behind my back?” – Renee, age 22.

“The FRIEND who fixed me up with Luigi neglected to tell me that he spoke no English – well, except KISS ME QUICK.” – Carla, age 44.

“Paul asked me out by giving me a list of several professional or formal social functions to attend – not by inviting me to a movie, or to have a drink. When I said I’d like to spend our first date alone so we could get to know each other, he took out his calendar and said his first free weekend was in July, seven months away.” – Carolyn, age 36.

“I got fixed up with my ex-husband. Hadn’t seen him in fourteen years. He’d gained about forty pounds, lost his hair. And I guess he needs glasses, because he didn’t even recognize me. I had to TELL him who I was. Shortest date I ever had.” – Colleen, age 55.

“Julie brought her Chihuahua along. It looked like a half-starved rat and rode in a little bag she had specially made for it. She told me she takes him everywhere. If he can’t go someplace, she won’t either. Whenever I came close to her, the thing growled, and Julie cooed, “Oh, precious poochie’s so protective of Mommy.” And she fed him morsels of her dinner. I paid for the dog to eat veal Oscar.” – Reed, age 31.

“The earring in her eyebrow? Well, okay. The one in her tongue? Goodnight.” – Ed, age 27.

“Amber’s mother came with us on our date. It started out that she asked if I could drop her mom off at her apartment, but on the way, Mama mentioned that she was dying for a steak. Before I knew it, I was watching her chow down on a blood-red New York strip. They had a great time. I didn’t get a word in edgewise, until the waitress asked who’d take the check.” – Webster, age 29.

“He showed up in a pink suit and told me not to call him Jeff; he preferred Flash. When he wanted my attention, he grunted or made animal sounds. And he complained about my clothes, that I should loosen up and wear something with feathers.” – Stella, age 47.

“When he asked me out, he was wearing a three-piece suit. When he picked me up, he was in leather pants, torn shirt, denim vest, a Nazi helmet, and he was riding a Harley.” – Marie, age 24.

“I was late for our first date – really late, like maybe four hours. And it was her birthday. So she got mad and, I guess, rightfully so. But I ring the doorbell and the first thing I know, the door opens and there’s a pie in my face. I saw it coming, but had no time to duck. Whipped cream was coming out of my nose. What could I do? I grabbed her, kissed her, and licked whipped cream.” – Les, age 29.

“Her mom entertained me in the living room, and explained that Justine was running late, finishing with an earlier “appointment” in the family room. Her mom explained that Justine was systematic, determined to get what she wanted, and had lined up two or three dates a night until she’d found the right man.” – Floyd, age 24.

“She gave me lousy directions, so I got lost on the way to her house. I called from the car and got even lousier directions. I called again, and finally she had her roommate give me directions. By the time I got there, I’d been in the car almost two hours. I was sweaty and wasted, and she had an attitude because I was late. She greeted me with, ‘Finally. I was about to give up and go out with my friends.’ ” – Ned, age 34.

“Ira asked me why I didn’t wear false eyelashes, and he suggested that I wear heavier foundation. A lot more makeup.” – Cathryn, age 27.

“He cracked his knuckles once every seven seconds through the whole movie. As soon as you thought he was done, that maybe he was going to relax, he’d crack them again.” – Barbara, age 27.

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