Story Sent in by Dave:
I was on a first date with Amanda. Everything was going well. She was an attractive teacher, and I was (and still am) an editor at a cable channel. We had a lot of stories to share, I kept her laughing, and for all intents and purposes, it seemed exactly the sort of story to not end up on ABCotD.
Our dinners came and we ate and continued to speak, but something strange happened. She was in the middle of telling me all about her family:
"My dad's side is huge. He has eight siblings. Eight! My Uncle Fred started a toy company that was bought out by Kay Bee Toys, and…"
She went on, and I listened along. So far, so good.
"…and my Aunt Sandra is a concert pianist. She… she… uh…"
She trailed off and looked off into space. It prompted me to ask, "Amanda? You okay?"
She raised her arm as if she had a question, then shook it out. I asked, "Arm asleep?"
She said, "No, it's…" She continued with the arm shaking. I waited patiently for her explanation.
"…it's my arm… it… it doesn't want to be on this date with you, anymore."
I smiled and laughed. She did neither. Then, under the table, I felt a shaking. Her left leg swung from side to side. She said, "Oh no… now my left leg doesn't want to date you, either!"
My smile evaporated. What was she doing? I asked, "Uh… I'm sorry to hear about your appendages, but do you want to be here, on this date?"
She nodded vigorously. "I do! I do! I don't know why they're acting up–oh God!"
Her other arm and then her right leg shook like noodles. She looked back and forth as if she was being attacked. She asked her arms, "Why don't you want to be here? Stop it!"
Her head pitched forward, so far that I thought it would land in her food. She wobbled up to her feet, shook her arms as she grabbed her purse, then said, "Whoa!" as she stumbled her way out of the restaurant as if she was someone's marionette. "No, I want to stay!" she said, as her legs carried her out, "I want to stay…"
I didn't stop her. Instead, I finished my dinner, finished part of her dinner, paid the check, and left for home.
I debated writing to her, because, well, she was clearly nuts. Then again, it seemed weird to me to just let things go at that, so I wrote her a one-line, "Hey, I hope everything's okay, good luck out there," message.
She wrote back:
Story Sent in by Dave: