2/07/2013

You Sank My Relationship

Story Sent in by Paul:

Julie and I met at an Occupy Wall Street support demonstration in our little city. Between holding up signs to passing motorists, we had a two-hour conversation about life, the universe, and everything. I got her number, and a date was next on the agenda.

Our first date dinner was at an upscale restaurant not far from where the demonstration was. It was dimly lit and a pretty romantic atmosphere. We ordered some wine and had a good talk. She offered to teach me some yoga, I offered to give her swim lessons. All-in-all, it was a good first date.

On our second date, she came out to the community center pool where I taught, and I worked with her on her swim technique for a while before we wound up at dinner again, followed by making out in her apartment entryway. A good second date.

For the forthcoming week, I looked forward to a good third date, but on that Monday, something odd happened. Someone from a blocked number called me a dozen times and hung up each time I answered.

On my way home from work, a white Maxima pulled up really close behind me, honked its horn and flashed its brights. The driver was in a Pirates cap and sunglasses, but I memorized the license plate number before he took off. Again, I had no idea who was behind this recent rash of strange occurrences.

Julie and I had been in touch every day, and I would've told her all about these things, but I didn't hear from her that night. I left her a voicemail, but she didn't call back. That in and of itself wouldn't have been too strange (she rightfully had a life outside of me), but to have it happen on the same day that lots of other unexpected things happen was, well, unexpected.

The next day, an email arrived from her around noon. It had no subject and read, "nef" in the body. That was it. No more weird phone calls, though.

That night, I heard from her. She called to tell me, "You shouldn't have done it, Paul. My boyfriend, Murray, is mad. I told him everything, and I thought he'd be cool with it, but he isn't. I told him you tried to romance me from him, and he's really angry. Sorry."

I had no idea that she had a boyfriend. I took a leap and said, "Does he have a white Maxima with a plate that ends in 3AB?"

A long pause, then, "Yes."

I bluffed, "My detective friend already pulled up info about Murray, after he almost hit me, the other day. He tries anything else, he'll be the one who's sorry."

The line went dead.

After work, the next day, I found a note on my front stoop. In black ink, the following was written (misspellings verbatim): "Your lucky. Next time this would be through yo face."

I didn't know what the "this" referred to, but I held onto the note, just in case. Since then, there's been no further harassment from that crowd.

11 comments:

  1. "Your lucky. Next time this would be through yo face."

    What would be through the OP's face? The note? The black ink? I'm lost!

    Maybe I'm just a big old romantic but I don't think there was a Murray. I think Julie was trying to use the D.E.N.N.I.S system on the OP but screwed up the steps.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Nurture Dependence is a tough one to nail.

      That's why I use the J.A.R.E.D. System...

      Delete
    2. JDate scouring
      Allocate a crazy chick
      Regale her with my greatness
      Extricate myself momentarily
      Drink her milkshake

      Delete
    3. It's worth it for a milkshake.

      Delete
    4. Steve, i have to admit, that backronym was kinda genius.

      Delete
  2. Serves you right for picking up one of the 99%. Next time, aim for the 1% like the rest of us.

    ReplyDelete
  3. The 1%er owner of the upscale restaurant thanks you for your patronage!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Chances are good that the restaurant owner doesn't make quite that much.

      Delete
    2. Maybe, maybe not. If the owner is an investor that has many business interests, or perhaps a celebrity chef, then maybe...

      I'm just a bit surprised that 2 people from the Occupy movement would go on a date to an "upscale restaurant." You'd think they'd go "urban foraging" or something.

      And who wants to bet they both have iPhones? Do they even know how much APPLE stock is trading for, while employing people in slave-like conditions. Hypocrites.

      Delete
  4. I'm still trying to figure out what "nef" means.
    Not Extremely Fat
    No Excuse Fucker
    Not Even Friends
    Noxious Expelled Flatulence

    ReplyDelete
  5. On this I would have followed the Jack Donaghy system:

    "Never go with a hippie to a second location"

    ReplyDelete

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