2003-02-03 - 3:03 p.m.
Once I had a date with a guy I worked with that was rather hellish. We were both working at a jewelry store in a mall, him in fine diamond sales and me at the earrings counter. I have to call this guy "Waterbed Ted" knowing what I know now. He was a sharp dresser, impeccablely tailored expensive suits, french aftershave, quite the expensive dandy! Everyone at work thought that Ted was probably gay as hell so when he asked me for a date I was really surprised. But he was cute and I wasn't dating anyone at that time.
He called me the night before our date to remind me that we were supposed to go out and to ask if it was okay with me we'd just spend the evening at him house instead of going out. He said he wanted to show off his cooking skills for me and we could get to know each other over wine.
The appointed hour came and I showed up at Waterbed Ted's house, dressed in a very delicate white lawn blouse, red suede skirt and boots. He ushered me inside his lavish apartment and began to ply me with Southern COmfort and cranberry liquoir. After hemming and hawing away it turns out there was no dinner at all but I only discovered this after I was pretty tipsy. His idea of dinner and dessert was fucking me on his waterbed he informed me.
As he was telling me this he ripped my stupid blouse off and started trying to carry me into his bedroom, tossing my semi-nekkid body down on the waterbed. I kicked him in the nuts and ran for my car, driving home drunken and wearing just my bra for a shirt in a frigid December night.
hanging out with high school freshmen is not my idea of a romantic date. - 2004-02-13