Two Wheels. One Bad Idea.

Submitted by Donna:

Damien showed up to our first date dressed like he was ready for a day of accounting. After talking with him for about twenty minutes, I realized that there wasn't much chemistry and that this would likely be a first and last date.

After dinner, he asked me if I wanted to take a ride on his bike.

"You ride?" I asked, incredulous.

"My bike's parked outside."

I had been on a motorcycle once before, and was really impressed to see that a guy who gave off a stuffy first impression could really know how to cut loose. I wasn't really dressed for a ride, but I agreed.

We went outside. "Here we are," he said.

His bike wasn't quite a Harley. Or a Yamaha. Or a Suzuki.

It was, well, a bicycle.

"Uh..." I began.

He strapped his helmet on himself. "Sorry, but I only have one. You just stand up on the pegs back here and grab my waist. Stay steady and don't let go."

"Are you serious?"

"Come on!"

I had already agreed to it, and I had psyched myself up for something fun. I know that I could have turned him down, but the sight of accountantman in a helmet on that bike, well... I don't know what it was. Pity? I hopped on.

He took us around some local streets and, to be honest, I was having fun.

Until he took a right turn too quickly. We leaned into it, but he lost control and we spilled. Hard.

I smashed against the pavement and was scraped up and down. He had it worse though. He fell onto the curb, and it looked like he might have broken something (he didn't, I later found out).

He was too busy yelling in pain to do anything, so I called my older brother and a paramedic friend of his to come take a look and pick us up.

They ended up taking Damien to a hospital and me back home. He was an okay guy, but I just wasn't excited enough about his personality to see him again after that.  I also wasn't excited about being bloodied on a first date.