Story Time - My Worst Ever Date

Story Time - My Worst Date

I'm not going to profess to being a cassonova, but I've had my time with the ladies, some terrible, some very good...

I've turned up to dates, blind dates, exciting dates, scarey dates and one date I've wanted to chew my own arm off just to have something to hit the girl with!... Lets talk about that...

It was a late spring day, not cold, and I was given the number for this lass Claire... I can't remember how I got her number, I think though a guy at work... Anyways, we talked on the phone once or twice and then arranged to meet and she chose to meet by some shops in a nice part of the city, so I figured she lived near there and was a nice person (please note I was born in St Anns in Nottingham and grew up on Top Valley - you may see both in the news - so I'm not judging here, trust me).

Anyway, she described herself as an average build, shoulder length blond, with blue eyes and long legs... I myself am a post college karate toned hottie... Yes, I'll be honest, I was dark haired, clean cut, nicely dressed and a black belt toned body... Not a weekend went by I didn't have some interest from somewhere... Anyways....

I pull up, and look around for this long legged blond... No sign... There's a short fat girl by the shop door... Smoking... and she stubs out her cigarette and comes over... and the voice from the telephone comes out...

"Hi ya" <insert hacking cough>....

Yes, this was my first introduction to her, this hacking cough, a proper phlegm orgy in her throat... I didn't like the look of her, her clothes didn't fit, she was smoking (which I hate) and her face was not nice, she had what I can only describe as lines down her face, as if she'd had a tribal tatoo removed, and she'd used foundation to try to hide this, but she'd used three different shades of foundation, a bronzer across her forehead, a very white pale one over her cheeks and then a slightly yellow one over her mouth and down her neck...

She looked to all intents like a coughing ventriloquists dummy...

I shook her hand and said, "If you're not feeling well, we can do this another time, would you like a lift home?"...

A polite, get out of jail card, as I didn't like her, and she was clearly ill... But she did not take the hint...

"Oh no, I've booked a table at a restaurant now"...

SHIT she's not going to abort this... So we get in the car, it wasn't a big car, but normally people fit in it... She's so large she spills out the passenger seat and into me in the drivers seat... Normally this would be a good move in my car, but she was unaware of this spillage, it was her bingo wings on her arms and as she folded into a seating position this globulous hump came out her side... seriously.

So we set off, she assures me the restaurant is just around the corner... We turn and she directs me, and we turn again... and soon we're on the M1 motorway... This is not good... We go a junction, we're still in Nottinghamshire.... We go another junction... She's trying to talk, but everytime she tries she coughs this hacking cough, and I'm pretty sure she wanted to spit out of the window more than once...

As she coughs she's so heavy the car moves in its lane, so I'm holding the wheel and making small talk, but I'm essentially talking to the hacking rocking shoulder of this coughing lump...

And then her eyes start watering, she's coughing so much her eyes get blood shot with the effort, and tears start to stream down her face.

We've gone two more junctions by now... And we're leaving the county... How far is she taking me... "Where are we getting off the motorway?"

"Junction" Cough "27"... We set off from 25.... It is only 2 junctions. But it is now a long way, perhaps too long with this coughing lump.

So we get off the motorway, and she's got tears streaming, and I notice has her perfum evaporates she smells a little... not bodily... she smells kind of stale... I crack the window open, the sun is setting, it's gone the normal time one would be sitting down to eat.

And we're snaking around country lanes going to god knows where, she seems to know where... She says she's been to this place before.... And then I drop the bomb... "So long as its not a fish restuarant"... It is... It almost exclusively does fish and lobster... Fatty wants me to buy her lobster!  But I'm allergic to fish and shell fish in all forms!

So we pull up thie very posh, over posh, gravel drive and I realise she's trying to take me to this very posh place... Its like £70 a plate... We go in and she gives her name and they lead us to a table... This place is empty, dead, the last diners ate an hour before... We're the last to be seated in a completely empty dining room.  And her mascara has been running, so the tribal tatoo effect is just emphasised and she immediately goes off to the loo to sort out her face and I'm left with the waiter, impatiently wanting to take my order...

I order a steak, and ask what sides comes with it... None I would eat... No veg... no chips... Just a steak...  What will she have, no idea... And then we hear her coming back...

She's coughing her lungs up... hacking and choking.  The very posh waiter turns and lets her fall into the chair, which creaks under her weight... And she begins to order...

I'm having a single dry steak remember...

She's orders... 6 king spawn shrimps in some oil sauce thing... A lobster... A monk fish dish and a half bottle of red...

This duely arrives and she eats like a total pig... and I find fish very off putting, I really don't like the smell, and these dishes stink... My steak comes with her second course and its swimming in a fishy smelling sauce, so I don't touch it.

She scoffs and tries to talk between swallows and hacking coughs... And she's now got bits of seafood in her teeth, so as she coughs its landing on me, and at one point she coughs just as I open my mouth to speak and a piece of fish lands in my mouth, and I freak out, I go to the loo, wash my mouth out and take as long as I can.

"Sorry I took so long, I don't feel right, that's why I've not eaten"... I try to let her down easy, shes scoffing... She wants pudding... The waiter - who is the only member of staff left - comes and appologises but the kitchen is now closed, she can't order pudding... Its gone eleven by now she's eaten like a pig spitting bits of food, mouth open chewing, and this constant coughing... So she goes to the loo again and I pay the bill... £215... And I tip the guy £10, fuck 10% this shit just cost me so much and I didn't eat a bite.

We go out into the night and its cold, we get back in my car, and she's sweating now, she smells of fish and moldy wet bread... She's still not making very good conversation, still with this hacking cough, and I want out now, I've been polite, I've made small talk, I've paid through the nose for shit all and I look a complete fool with this girl...

We're back on the motorway and I'm speeding, I'm pushing my little car to 110mph and booking it down to drop her off...

"You didn't" mchhhhaaaaaaaough "have to pay, I have money"... and she did, she had £50... I just smiled...

"Ducky, that cost £215, and I only had a £10 steak"... She just looked at me...

"Oh my god, I".. mmmmmaaaaaaaough.... "didn't know it cost that much, we went".... hackkkkkakaough... "there for my 21st"....

So she'd been, but never paid... Classic... I pull up at these shops where I picked her up, and basically got her out the car, I was loosing my patience, and didn't want to be nasty to her, she was just clueless... She gets out the car, and she before she can come around I pull off...

But... I didn't notice her string like handbag handle had caught in the door....

And she has it hooked over her shoulder.... I drive off... And it yanks her over, but ths bag handle doesn't break, it digs a nasty red line into her already puffy flesh, drags over her face, stripping it over the layers of foundation, and it pulls her over so she bangs her chin on the ground...

I stop and get out appologising and offering to take her to hospital, she says she's fine, but she's sat there now and looking even more of a mess.

Where the foundation has been scrapped off her face its caked in a thick layer on the bag strap and up into her hair in lumps, her eyes are streaming again, she's coughing and as she wrinkles up her chin blood is seeping out the graze of curled abrasion, and her top is all over to one side as the bag strap twisted her to the ground.

All in all, a pretty impossible situation.

She called me again about a week later, and I pretended to be moving house and very busy to talk to her...

She called and called, in the end she finally asked... "are you not interested"....

"No, ducky, sorry I'm not interested at all..."  She seemed very surprised by this.