more dating misadventures

Bitches,

I'm trying to come up with a writing sample about dating and the internet for something.  I have to shave 200 words off of this but I'm just going to throw it at the wall and see if anything sticks. 
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The first time I used a website to meet new people was the first time I ever needed help meeting new people.  After a lifetime of knowing everyone and their mom in my hometown, relocation to another city for college was quite the shock.  I was terrible at fitting in socially with the rowdy college crowd.  I dismissed the men at my university as a potential dating pool the first time I attended a fraternity party and a spiked drink intended for some lucky young lass in flip flops and a ruffled mini-skirt wound up in the hands of my 250 pound male neighbor from the dorms.  As a group of us carried our drug bloated friend back to campus I realized two things: 1) This drunken heavy lifting will probably result in a memorable hernia and 2) I need to come up with a plan B for my love life. 

It was about two years later I met the man whose profile was the first to jump out at me.  From his writing he seemed distinguished, fiercely intelligent, and darkly hilarious.  We met at a neighborhood bar/restaurant he frequented for its free wi-fi and famed pub food.  Upon arrival I was alarmed to discover that my date was the one whose pungent body odor you could smell from the first few steps within the bar.  His stained clothes, unwashed hair and amphibious strappy nature man-sandals suggested he was not only less sophisticated than I was hoping but he may have been straight-up homeless. 

In the infinite optimism and patience possible only in females when it comes to dating, I sat down and introduced myself.  After all, I had thoroughly enjoyed our email correspondence and sartorial elegance shouldn’t be a deal-breaker.  Right away he hands me a stack of paper checks and asks me if I can duplicate his boss’ signature and sign them while we talk.  I agree to this even to my own surprise.  Besides, I already had a drink coming.

It was around the time he told me that he lived on a small boat that I decided to do the only thing that seemed appropriate:  drink until a bad date becomes a good date or at least a memorable story.   The night wore on in a drunken blur.  As I recall we decided to try our luck at one of the garish casinos in the area.  It was when I arrived at the marina that I knew I had made a huge mistake.  Going along with this lunatic of a man had landed me at the city’s edge with no way to get home and a brain that was not sober enough to think of an escape plan. 

Things took a turn for the worse when I politely declined to strip off my clothes and jump into the murky marina waters with him in a spontaneous moment of passion.  My reluctance to join him for a naked cathartic swim invoked some sort of unforeseen rage in him that honestly had me a little worried.  He took his clothes off and dived right in calling me a “fucking baby” on the way down.

“He’s going to make a stew out of my kidneys,” I thought to myself as I approached the edge of the boat to make a jump onto the dock.  I was waiting for the boat to drift close enough to be able to step onto gloriously dry land.  As he naked doggie paddled in the opposite direction I made a lunge for it, only to feel my left shoe fall into the water.  “No time to worry about that now,” I told myself and jogged with one shoe toward the parking lot where I had seen a police car earlier. 

“Hey where are you going?” I heard from behind.  I whipped around defensively to see my dream date running after me.  I had to focus all of my energy on not letting the image of the nude male form trotting, appendages swaying to and fro, push me past the point of no return with my already delicate sanity. 

Luckily the marina security showed up just then and demanded that my date put his clothes back on.  I asked the cops for a ride.  The cops asked me where my shoe was.  Neither of us got the answers we were looking for and I was left to call a cab to take the 50 dollar ride home. 

As the cab pulled away my now partially nude date optimistically yelled “I’ll call you tomorrow!”  

Now that even more time has passed and I have been on dates I found exponentially more irritating than that one I realize that maybe I judged too harshly.   Clearly this was not the right match for me, but after going on dozens of dates to the same bland restaurants listening to stories about law school and internet start-up companies I have to say that naked swimming in marina sludge is starting to sound pretty good right about now.  Onwards and upwards!

Comments

[Amanda]

you must submit it! "naked swimming in marina sludge" is priceless.

[Sol]

Leslie I think you should give up the vet idea and start writing a memoir.

[corine@ hidden in france]

Submit, quick.

[meinkc]

..love the part about duplicating the boss' signature - oh my god - i've done the equivalent of something like this so many times - all smiling and hoping This Will Make Him Like Me. Too funny. You are an amazing writer. :)

[Janice]

I second Sol.

[Christine]

I was about to delete all my favorites just now in an attempt to fulfill my New Year's Resolution (end internet addiction). So glad I didn't. That story was awesome.

[Kirk]

Are you kidding me with this? This is a true story? Good lord. Hilarious.