Search Site


What the Beep?

Story Sent in by Herb:

I was out to eat with Joan on our first date and we were sharing funny stories. When I was done telling one, she laughed and said, "I have to show you something. I promise it's related." She took out her iPhone and dialed a number. Beep beep beep went her phone. Ten numbers. Twenty numbers. Fifty. Over a hundred. What was she doing?

I asked her, "Are you dialing Jupiter?"

"Just hang on... hang on..." she said.

She kept going. Well over 200 numbers. I said, just joking, "I have plans for next week, so–"

"I can't..." she mumbled, "I can't..."

"Can I help?" I asked. She and I both had iPhones, after all.

"I can't stop dialing... I... I think I'm cursed..." It was a mumble, but that's what it sounded like she said.

"What?" I asked, positive I'd misheard her.

"Cursed... cursed..." she said, then stood up with her purse, keeping her eyes on her phone, still dialing, and walked right out of the cafe.

I assumed that she was just punking me and that she'd be back to say it was all a joke. Or maybe she was ditching me. I wasn't sure, but I assumed the latter, although I honestly couldn't say why she'd do that.

I didn't have long to wonder, though. A minute later, she came back in, still dialing her phone. But she didn't come up to me. She walked up and down the aisles of tables, still dialing away. Then she walked out again.

I waited to see if she'd come back once more, and sure enough she did. She hurried in, still dialing, walked up to our table, drank down the rest of her water with one hand while she kept dialing with her other, and then hurried out again without a word.

She didn't return. We hadn't ordered anything yet, but I took a sandwich to go. On my way back to my car, I saw her on the other side of the street, fast-walking and dialing and dialing. I chuckled to myself at the crazy woman and drove off. Didn't see her again.


The Glassy Knoll

Story Sent in by Cynthia:

Paul was an athlete who played lots of baseball. At dinner, he filled my ears with tales of his storied career. He promised that after dinner, he'd show me some moves.

Once we were done with dinner, he led me outside. I figured that he had a ball and bat with him in his car, but he apparently didn't. We walked down the road to a house with a big front yard and walked right onto the lawn.

I asked him, "Where are we going?"

He said, "I promised I'd show you my moves. Check it out." He pulled out a glass he had stolen from the restaurant.

"You're going to use a glass?" I asked, incredulous.

He tossed the glass into the air and slapped at it with his hand. The glass flew onto the lawn. He scooped it up and did the same thing, hitting it once more. Again, it banked off his hand and landed in the grass.

For his next trick, he tossed it higher into the air, leaped up, and slammed it with his head. Amazingly, the glass again didn't break when it hit the ground.

But Paul's head was in bad shape. His hands went to it and he nearly buckled over. "Ow!" he said "Ow, ow, ow!"

I helped him back to his car and despite his non-stop moaning and groaning he somehow drove away.

As for me, my car was close by so I drove back to that front yard, found the glass, and returned it to the restaurant before driving home.

I wrote Paul once to ask him if he was okay. He replied that he was and asked me out again. I declined.


Grey Matter

Story Sent in by Rudy:

I met Samantha on OkCupid and we had some laughs in our intro messages. We were to meet at a restaurant on our first date and meet we did.

About five minutes into it, she gave me a big smile and said, "By the way, I have the perfect friend to set up with you."

I was confused. I asked, "Set me up? Aren't you and I out on a date now?"

She laughed long and hard, then stood up and said, "I'll be back in a second."

About three minutes later, a woman who had to be in her 70s strolled over and sat down across from me. "Hello," she said, "You're Rudy?"


She beamed at me and said, "I'm Brook. Samantha sent me over to keep you company."

I looked around, hoping that Samantha would reappear, tell me it was all a joke, and send Brook on her merry way. But that didn't happen. I was speechless, and Brook looked at me as if she was expecting something.

I said, "Nice to meet you, Brook. Is Samantha coming back?"

She said, "I don't know. I think she left."

I looked around a bit more and Brook asked, "What looks good to you on the menu?"

Well Brook and I had a nice time together. I didn't want to just leave her there. When I asked her how she knew Samantha, she told me that she was a family friend. We chatted, ate, and parted ways. I didn't reach out to Samantha afterward and although Brook was a very nice lady, we only had that one "date" together.


Red Flag, Green Light

Story Sent in by Tina:

It was my second date with Tommy. The first one went seriously great. This time, we were on our way from a stand-up show to dinner. He was driving and I was riding shotgun. We were quoting funny lines from the comedy show back and forth at each other.

When we were stopped at a traffic light, Tommy was in the middle of a sentence when he glanced out his window at a young woman strolling by. He stopped talking and watched her go down the sidewalk.

The light turned green. I was about to ask him if he knew her when he rolled down his window and yelled at her, "Hey, you bitch!"

I caught the look on her face as Tommy floored it through the intersection. I was so in shock I didn't know what to say. A moment later he hit the brakes. We were stopped at another red light. Tommy looked in his mirrors and gasped.

The young woman he had just apparently randomly insulted was running at us. Tommy panicked, flailed a bit, threw the car into park (right there on the road), jumped out, and ran away down the sidewalk, leaving me in the awkward position of having to scramble into the driver's seat and park the car once the light turned green.

I didn't see where Tommy or the girl wound up, and I had no idea what to do. I ultimately left the keys on his seat and left his door unlocked. He never called me after that, and I certainly didn't reach out to him.


All by My Selfie

Story Sent in by Charlie:

At dinner, Elsa whipped out her smartphone and remained glued to it. Oh, I asked her questions and she responded but she barely looked up at me once. I asked her twice to put her phone down and both times she replied, "When I'm done." Yeah, right.

When our food arrived, she snapped a photo of it from almost every angle imaginable, ate a couple of bites, and then went back to tapping away on her phone. I couldn't really take the rudeness anymore, so I took a silly selfie with my own phone and messaged it to her.

She kept frowning at her phone and didn't react. I took another, then sent it again, then repeated the process over half a dozen times.

"Stop it," she finally said, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

I said, "Finally, I have your attention."

She gave me a smile like I was a stupid child and said, "Okay. Stop it." She went right back to her screen.

I took about 20 more selfies and she didn't notice a thing. I then rapid-fire sent them all to her phone.

"What the hell?" she nearly shouted, "Stop it! Oh my God, stop it! You freak! You stupid freak!"

I re-sent nearly all of the selfies yet again. I couldn't help but crack up. She was furious. She actually stood up, found our waitress, and asked for the check to be delivered immediately. When she returned to the table she didn't sit down but jammed a hand into her purse, threw down barely enough to cover her food, and she left me there.