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10/22/2014

Nail on the Head

Story Sent in by Darlene:

Mark seemed like a nice, clean-cut guy. We met online and spoke enough to meet in person. When we did, I couldn't help but notice that his nails were long and he was wearing shiny silver nail polish.

"Nice nails," I said, and I meant it. I was hoping he'd take it as a compliment.

Instead, he scowled at me and said, "Want to come to my house?"

I replied, "Let's do dinner, like we originally planned."

We spoke during dinner, but he spent a lot of time looking at his nails. At one point during a pause in conversation, he actually kissed each one. When he caught me staring, he said, "You love your nails, too. I feel it most when I read at the bedtime. They do not let you down. Like people."

While my nails have never let me down like some people have, they're also just nails. Since we were on the topic, I asked him, "Why do you paint them?"

He said, "I will never cut them or keep them unpainted. Mostly for a memory."

"What memory?" I asked.

"All the nails I've cut before," he said with a sad face.

Well then. I pretended to find him normal for the rest of the date, and when he hugged me goodnight, I pretended to not feel his nails lightly digging into my back. I haven't seen him since, but by this point, his nails are likely a quarter of a foot long, if not half.

*

Is marriage an abduction?




10/21/2014

Carbonational Security

Story Sent in by Robert:

Before we went out together, April and I had the now-standard conversation about vegetarianism, food allergies, and whatnot. She was a vegetarian who never drank soda. I'm a vegetarian who likes soda now and again. I'm glad we established that.

On our date, we went to a funky cafe. She ordered a lemonade. I ordered a blueberry soda. After the waitress left, April said, "Why would you order a soda? I told you I don't like soda."

I said, "I remember. You don't have to drink it. I ordered it for myself."

"But why would you order it? After everything we've been through?"

All that she and I had been through was about 10 minutes of small talk. She then said, "If I knew this place even served soda, I would've insisted on somewhere else. In fact," she stood up and gathered her things, "I'm going to find a place that doesn't have soda. You're welcome to join me."

I remained sitting where I was. She asked, "Will you not join me? Us? Together?"

I said, "I really like the soda here. It's organic."

She sat down and leaned in. She said, "We have to make plans to leave here, you and I. But before the soda gets here. Once it comes, it'll be too late. Are we together on this?"

"Uh... no."

She looked disappointed. She stood up, said, "Pity. You were my last hope," and left the place.

A few moments later, our drinks arrived. I told the waitress I could use another minute to decide on a meal. Soon after, April returned. She approached the table, then stopped short. I assume she saw the soda on the table. She gave me a hurt look, then left forever.

On the bright side, I drank down some of my soda, added some of her untouched lemonade, and made lemonade blueberry soda. And it was good. So at least I had that.

*

Ho ho ho. Who's that in my chimney?


10/20/2014

Kangaroo Smack

Story Sent in by Jacque:

I was out to a first date dinner with Joe when his cell phone rang. He picked it up and listened for a few moments before handing it to me. I took it and listened to the caller.

The caller was a guy, identifying himself as "Roger Kangaroo." He asked me if I was enjoying myself with Joe. I said I was, then asked "Roger" who he actually was.

He then spat out a tirade of horrific insults, the nicest of which was, "whore."

After only a few seconds of it, I hung up and shoved the phone back at Joe. I asked, "What the hell was that about?"

He looked at his phone and said, "You hung up? You actually hung up on Roger Kangaroo?"

"He was screaming obscenities at me!"

Joe looked insulted. "But you don't hang up on people! Are you a stupid little kid?"

"He called me a whore! And that was the least of it!"

Joe shook his head. "Doesn't matter. You fail that test. Completely."

I hesitated a moment to gather some thoughts, then stood and said, "Excuse me for a moment. I'm going to the bathroom."

"Come right back," Joe warned.

I never went back. AsshoIe.

10/19/2014

The Lone and Level Sands

Story Sent in by Earl:

Barbara was really excited about our first date. We were making an evening visit to a beach that according to her, she hadn't visited since she was very young.

When we arrived, she seemed instantly disappointed. "Where are the dunes? There were dunes here. I know. I saw them."

"When you were a kid?" I asked.

"Yeah. And the beach is so much smaller! They must have expanded the parking lot or something. It's not at all like it was..."

Barbara started to cry and moaned, "The dunes... the dunes... where, where are they?"

She sat down in the sand and was despondent for a while. Finally, when she seemed to be done, I helped her up.

Then, she screamed to the sky (and to anyone in earshot), "Where are my dunes?"

I had no idea who had made off with her dunes. But as soon as we made it back to that (purportedly expanded) parking lot, she slipped into her car and drove off, without even a goodbye.

10/18/2014

Conspiracy Eerie

Story Sent in by Martha:

After a couple of weeks of dating site emails, Kenneth asked me out. I arrived at the restaurant and he stood me up.

Pride a little bruised, I went home. I didn't write to him, but a few days later he wrote me. "Hello? What's up?"

I wrote back, "We had plans for a few days ago. You stood me up. Remember?"

He wrote, "I didn't stand you up. Those plans were for next week."

So I went back into my emails and sure enough, there was iron-clad confirmation from him that I was correct. We had agreed on the night I showed up and he didn't.

When I brought this to his attention, I expected a mea culpa from him. Instead, he wrote, "You're just making that up! I never said that!"

I advised him to check his own emails. He then wrote me, "I NEVER WROTE THAT. YOU MUST HAVE HACKED MY EMAIL OR THE SITE MUST HAVE DONE IT. I DIDN'T WRITE THAT I'D MEET YOU THAT NIGHT. NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER."

I wrote back, "Then how do you explain the fact that you wrote it?"

"I DIDN'T," he wrote back, "YOU MUST HAVE DONE IT SOMEHOW. YOU ARE A LIAR AND CHEAT AND I DON'T EVER WANT TO SPEAK TO YOU AGAIN."

Oddly, he didn't block me right afterward. But I rectified that, myself.