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Beer and Loathing

Story Sent in by Winston:

I had already been on one date with Amy and it hadn't gone so well. She had seemed upset about something while we were out together and she had eventually let on that a beloved uncle had fallen ill. Understandable, but if she had simply postponed the date instead of moping about her relative the entire time, that might have been best.

I wrote her an email after the date to wish her and her family well. She wrote back to apologize for being out of sorts during the date and to ask me if I'd want to go out again. Since I figured it wasn't her fault that she was in a downer mood, I told her I'd be glad to go out again. Maybe to a bar? She said she'd be up for it and so we made it a definite.

We didn't speak very much the week leading up to our second date. She was always busy with something or other.

The evening of the date itself, I bought us beers and we sat down. She acted very similarly to how she had on our first date: quiet, somber, and mopey. I hadn't planned to mention anything about her uncle, but thought it would be nice to ask. I did.

She said, "He's fine. Took a better turn this past week. Thank you."

I hadn't expected that, given her behavior. I said, "That's good. So why are you upset, tonight?"

She said, "Sometime I'm just upset for no reason. Is that okay with you?"

"I guess. You could've just postponed tonight's date if you weren't feeling up to it."

She shot back, "If you can't handle me like this, then you can't handle me at all."

"I suppose I can't handle you, then."

She stared at me and said, "I really can't believe this. You're gonna be a jerk? Just like that?"

She grabbed her beer and slammed it on the table, perhaps forgetting that there was beer in the glass. It spilled up and all over her and the table. I offered to help her clean it up, but she stormed off to the bathroom and never returned. After a while, I was done waiting for her so I finished my beer and left.

The next morning at a little after 7:30am, she texted me, "Where did u go?"

She'll never know.


School Daze

Story Sent in by Stephanie:

During a period of unemployment I met George online. He was a middle school teacher who came off as easy going as well as easy on the eyes. After a little over a week of talking, he asked me if I was around a forthcoming Friday at one in the afternoon.

I was around, as I was between jobs. However, this was in October and Fridays in October were usually school days. I asked him about this point and he said not to worry about it. He confirmed, "I'll meet you in the marking lot of Lincoln Middle School on Friday. One o'clock."

At the agreed-upon time, I parked in the lot and waited for him by the main doors. When he didn't show up after several minutes, I felt like a little bit of a creep for hanging around a school doorway so I returned to my car and texted him.

He didn't reply and it was almost 1:20. I called him, thinking that if he was somewhere important, he'd have his phone on vibrate. I left a voicemail and hung up.

Around 1:30 I saw him exit the entrance and look around. I hopped out of my car and went up to him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, "I'm teaching!"

I said, "You told me to meet you here at one! I was here, I texted, and I called! Why would you ask me to come here on a day that you're teaching?"

Instead of answering my perfectly reasonable question, he said, "You need to leave. You're trespassing," and then scurried back into the school before I could point out to him what a total idiot he was.

My guess is that he figured it out, though. His two phone calls to me over the next day went forever unanswered.


Have You Tried a Giant Mallet?

Profile Sent in by Louis:

My self-summary

I am a freelance fashion photographer by day and I spend most of the night working on my photos. Being a career insomniac has its perks I guess. I get to learn all about how different sleep aids (tried them all - medicinal, homeopathic, spiritual, prayer, tears) don't work. Is not all bad. I can spend so much time fine tuning my profile. I can try out all the 24 hour cafes that I want (and I have) I can do anything it seems except for sleep. I HAVE NOT SLEPT IN WEEKS ANS WANT TO DIE. Other than that I have what you would call a normal life.


Can't Trust What a Robot Says

Email Sent in by Lori:

Dear Lori:

I am not sure why you have not written me back. I had a good time with you. Is it so hard to answer why you did not have a good time with me? I see this as an opportunity for self improvement and you are denying me that.

Let me walk you through what will happen next so there will be no confusion. I will continue to write you and if there is no response (feel free to write at any time) then I will write you actual paper letters to your address (I will find it) and your work address (I have already found it). If there is no further response then I shall perhaps drop by and visit you just for a talk. Again, just for conversation. The conversation will include questions such as why did you not write me back? I was polite and gentlemanly to you and I do not deserve abuse.

If you are evasive and/or do not answer my questions then we will have to have a more detailed talk about your mental state. Someone incapable of answering such a simple question is not fit to be among decent people and I will call the authorities (I have their number) to take you in for evaluation with or without your consent. When they will seek my advice and advice of the robot I will tell them that you should remain in custody for your own good.

Please do not force my hand. I just want an answer to this simple question. My plan will commence if there is no answer starting now.


(Lori says, "I didn't reply this this wacko and he never wrote me again.")


Ex Marks the Spot

(What's a writer's most important job? Click here to find out on this week's Jared's Inkwell! -JMG)

Story Sent in by Eric:

A while back when I was really into Internet dating, I wrote to Denise. I wasn't expecting a response, as most women by and large never even replied with a polite "no-thank-you." But Denise not only replied but actually seemed interested in learning more about me. Feelings were mutual and I took her out to a casual eatery.

For most of our time at dinner, she filled my ears with the latest about her recent breakup. She and her ex had been together for years, she thought they'd marry, she had already picked out names for their four never-to-be-had children, she thought of his siblings as her own, they had done it in so many exciting places, and on and on and on.

Long after I had mentally checked out she asked me, "Will you call him for me?"


"My ex? You can use my phone. You can even leave a message since I know he won't pick up."

"Why would I do that?"

She said, "I just want him to know that I'm out on a date. Please? It's important to me."



"No. I don't think it's a good idea."

She asked, "Why not? You can use my phone. He won't answer. Just tell him that you're on a date with me and having a good time. You don't even need to use your name. You're calling from my phone and that will be enough."

Without waiting for another "no," she dialed this guy's number and shoved the phone at me. I didn't take it.

"Take it!" she whispered, "Take it! Take it!"

I took it and hung up immediately. She asked, "Why did you do that? You were supposed to leave a message!" and she dialed him up again and held the phone out to me.

I took it, and while it faced away from her I hung up but held it to my ear to make her think that I was going to leave a message. But while I held it to my ear for the amount of seconds I thought it would take to listen to a voicemail message, her phone rang.

I handed it to her. She said, "It's him! It's him! Answer it!"

"I'm not answering it! It's your phone!"

She grabbed it, accepted the call, and thrust the phone back at me. I didn't take it. She shook it at me like she really wanted me to take it, but I didn't. I was afraid she'd throw it at me, but the guy must have hung up because she looked at the phone, shook with what I guessed was rage, and shoved it back in her pocket. "Thanks a lot," she said, "You ruined everything."

Boo hoo. I finished my sandwich, told her I had someplace to be, and left.