Story Sent in by Quinn:
In my early 20s, Nate and I were out to dinner at a Mexican restaurant. It was, thus far, a strong first date and I felt as though it had potential. He had started his own small health food distribution company and worked as a kind of intermediary between local farmers and local grocery stores. We talked a good deal about that, my job, and so on.
Not long into dinner, I excused myself to use the bathroom. When I came back, the tone changed in the conversation. Nate started asking me all sorts of questions about relationships and what I admired in a potential significant other and what was attractive versus unattractive and so on. It felt as though he was fishing for information for which there existed more subtle ways of acquisition.
He asked, "Is there anything unforgivable that, if I guy you were seeing for five years did, you would immediately dump him for?"
I thought about it. I try to be forgiving, and at the same time not a doormat. It's a fine line and depending on the situation, a subjective line, at that. I told him, "Maybe if he kills my friends or family."
He smiled. "I see. Interesting. Interesting."
After dinner, we walked down the street together, still on the same topic. He said, "I have a trick I use to see if the girl I'm seeing it truly the one. Ready to see it?"
"Here, stand right over here." He positioned me so that my right side faced him. He then turned his back to me, then walked backwards at me, reached behind himself, grabbed my blouse, pulled me toward him, and let out a gigantic fart, right on my thigh.
I screamed and tore away. He laughed and said, "So? What do you think?"
I replied, "What was that for?"
He said, "I was testing to see if you were the one. To see if you were comfortable enough in our relationship to let me do that and still be okay with it."
I said, "On a first date?"
He said, "I could have killed your friends or family! I decided to do something small, first. So your two unforgivable offenses are killing someone and farting on you. That's a hell of a range."
I replied, "We haven't been together for five days, let alone five years, and what on earth are you thinking? Farting on me? You're sick!"
He looked shocked, then said, "And you're a hypocrite. I'm glad I farted on you, you human toilet."
"I'd rather be that than be near you. Get lost, dick." I stormed away and he didn't follow me.
Story Sent in by Quinn: