I think when I put a shout out for bad date stories, I should have described it as bad ‘dating’ stories as I’ve had some great stories come in that didn’t necessarily involve a date as such.
This reminded me of a story from my early days of dating where I frequently (more like always…) stuffed something up in a hideously embarrassing way.
Back in the olden days when I used to walk 10 miles to school every day, in the snow, barefoot….wait, wrong story…..
Back in the olden days when online dating sites were still new, still taboo and full of nothing but weirdos, I met a guy online somehow. I think it possibly could have been through ICQ or some other chat program that I can’t recall the name of now….
This was when people didn’t use fake profile pics to hide their less than desirable appearance. Instead they used the excuse that they didn’t have a scanner to scan a photo (yes an actual photo) right now, but going by their a/s/l (age/sex/location) and the way that they had described themselves, you were confident that they were most definitely going to be totes hot and all. I’m not sure now why I was surprised that day I met a guy who I had pictured as resembling someone off the cast of Home & Away but he turned up looking like Marilyn Manson….
Anyhoo, I’d met this guy, chatted online to the wee hours one night, got his number and the next day I fired up my Nokia Snake gaming device and gave him a call at an appropriate time. Which of course was never on the hour or half hour as that would appear too ‘scheduled’. I’d wait until the clock clicked over to a totally casual random time like say, 8:07pm to call. I was also sitting in my car in a car park, engine running and some new release song playing quietly on my detachable face Kenwood stereo, you know, just to give off the right kind of ambience. Yep, nailing this…
Dialling. Ringing. Voicemail. Shit. Now I’ve gotta come up with a message that conveys that I’m fun, hot and that I call boys off the internet ALL THE TIME.
I rattle off something cool which impresses the shit out of myself, hit hang up and toss the phone onto the passenger seat. I then proceed to fist pump and say ‘yes, yes, yes…..best message ever’ out loud praising myself for my efforts.
Just as I’m about to pull out of the car space, I look left to check for traffic and notice out of the corner of my eye that the phone screen is lit up…..and the call duration is showing…..and the call duration is increasing!!!
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Worst. Message. Ever.