Story Sent in by Caroline:
Brad asked me out over a dating site. He suggested that we take a walk to a good restaurant one weekend evening. In the week leading up to the date, he mentioned that he was just over a cold. I wished him well and asked him if he wanted to postpone. He said that he'd be fine, and so I looked forward to meeting him.
Meet him I did, at a street corner. We hugged each other hello and started our walk. As we walked, he sniffled and snorted. Then, completely out of left field, he said, "Hang on," to me as we passed a row of shrubs. He stuck his face into them, inhaled through his mouth, and heartily blew nostril-fuls of mucus into the bushes.
He gulped down another lungful of air, then did it again. Then once more. He pulled his face out, wiped his nose on his shirtsleeve, and gave me a big smile. "That's better," he said, and continued walking on.
He noticed that I remained rooted to the spot, and asked, "What's wrong?"
"That's disgusting," I said, "Do you usually blow your nose into people's bushes?"
He replied, "I used up all my tissues. If you don't have any, my only other option is to let it stop up my nose and drip down, into my mouth. Since I'll probably be kissing you later, I don't think either of us want that."
Stunned, I said, "I didn't realize we'd be kissing each other later."
He waved his arms around in a weird way and said, "This is a date, isn't it?" Before I could reply, he held up his hand and said, "Hang on," then turned to another set of bushes and blew a mighty blast of moist air and snot into the unfortunate shrub.
I said, "We're getting you tissues right now."
He wiped his nose on his sleeve again, and we walked to a nearby pharmacy. Within, I handed him a box of tissues and we walked up to the checkout together. He handed them back to me and said, "You're paying. I don't need them."
"But your nose is running!"
"I have the bushes! Once we make it to the restaurant, I'll have napkins and toilet paper! I don't need tissues now."
I put the tissues back on the shelf and we walked out together, in considerably worse humor. We were within sight of the restaurant when he stopped once more to blow his nose in the bushes. This time, there were more people around, and some walked right by and glanced at him as he did it.
He must have been at it for a full minute when he said, "Now I'm just doing it to piss you off."
I said, "Then the hell with this," and I returned to my car, leaving him there.
He sent me a few sanctimonious texts: "Sorry that I was sick. I'll tell my body to fight off infection better next time," and "Why does everyone love to blame sick people? Answer."
I didn't answer anything.
Story Sent in by Caroline: