The Rating Game

I went on a date a few years back with a girl named Cathy.  She wanted to hike a nearby state park.  I asked her for directions, but she said that it would be easier if we met up for a quick lunch first and if she drove us both to the place afterward.  Sounded good to me.  I can run fast.

We stopped at a local coffee place.  I should have known that things were going to be rough from the instant I ordered a turkey sandwich.  She asked me if I knew that birds were routinely tortured.  I asked her if she knew that birds were routinely delicious.  She frowned at that.

Then the weirdest thing happened.  She ordered the same exact thing.  Turkey sandwich.  Hold the mayo.  Extra mustard.

I said, "I thought that you didn't like to eat tortured foods."

She pointed to a sign behind the counter that said that all of their meats came from a local farm with free range policies, no artificial growth hormone, and where turkeys are treated well, given massages, taught English, etc.

She said, "Ha!" far louder than necessary, which wasn't an accomplishment, as she shouldn't have said it at all.

While we ate, I noticed that she'd never eat while I was eating.  She'd wait for me to stop, and then she'd sneak in a bite.  I asked her, "What are you doing?"


"You're not eating unless I stop."

"And that's... weird?"

"We can eat in unison!"


I took another bite and she said, "Six point two."


"Six point two."

This was a strange thing to say, but I was hungry, so I took another bite.

"Five.  Point zero."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your chewing."

"You're rating my chewing?"

"Ooh.  Talking with your mouth full.  That's a solid zero there, bucko."

"Please don't rate my chewing."


I asked her, "Do you play any sports?"

She thought for a moment, then said, "Four... point one."

"I thought that I asked you to stop rating my chewing."

"I'm not rating your chewing anymore.  I'm rating your conversation topics now."

"Can you stop rating me in general?"

She dropped her shoulders and looked like Twilight fan number 101 in line for a Robert Pattinson meet-and-greet at a 100-seat venue.

She said, "Zero."

"Look, Cathy–"

"I was just rating how much I like that idea!  Don't get so defensive!"

"Are you ready to hit up that park?"

"I'm not done with my sandwich yet.  Finish yours, please."

She drove us to the park, and we had the most awkward hike in history.

"Two point four," she said, then, "Your posture when you walk."

"Six point zero," she'd say, "Your pace."

"One point zero," she said, "The way you're looking at me, now."

When I stopped to drink some water, she said, "Will you save some of that for me?"

I replied, "There are three more bottles in the bag."

"I know, but I want water from yours."

I stared at her, then handed her my bottle.

"Ten!  Ten!  Ten!" she squealed.  It's okay, number 101!  There's a Taylor Lautner meet-and-greet right across the street!

I stopped to take some photos of the landscape.  Impatient, she moaned, "Five... five.. four point nine... four point eight... four point seven... four point six..."

I was done taking photos by "Three point five," but I was so curious as to what she'd do when I bottomed out that I kept snapping shots.

"Zero," she said, and then once more, as if I didn't hear it the first time, "Zero."

I turned to her and asked, "What now?  Negatives?  Complex?"  Then, with special emphasis, "Irrationals?"

She shook her head.  "No.  But you're at zero for now."

It was nice when we made it back to her car, since that meant that the date was almost over.  But when she started the engine, it wouldn't kick in.  I had a similar problem with my car a couple of years prior, so I asked her if I could check it out.

I slowly held down the gas pedal when I started it up, and it turned on.  She said, "Ten all the way, bucko."

I waited for her to drive me back to the lot where my car was parked, and I sprang it on her.  "You know," I said, "The fact that you rated me on everything out loud was kind of... well, kind of unusual."

"Want to know you final score?"

"My final score?"

She looked so happy.  I sighed.  "Yes please.  What's my final score?"

She looked up as if calculating.  Then she calculated some more.  Then some more.

"I forgot," she said.

"Damn," I said, "That earns a great big zero."


"The fact that you can't remember my score.  That earns a zero, I'm afraid."

Then she made a face.  That Taylor Lautner meet-and-greet?  Surprise!  It's Steve Buscemi!  And he hasn't eaten in three days!

She said, "Get out of my car."


"Get out!"


She screamed.  I jumped out of the car and slammed the door.  She backed up, nearly hit an oncoming car in the lot, and screeched away.  I didn't hear from her after that, and that, my friends, is an 11.


  1. You didn't stick around to put your 1 in her 0?

  2. This girl sounds awesome. A date as performance art, i love it!

  3. I wouldn't have continued the date past the turkey sandwich...I can't even imagine people that odd.

  4. Hehe, fun read, crazy girl. You got with the Steve Buscemi bit.. :)

  5. "She asked me if I knew that birds were routinely tortured. I asked her if she knew that birds were routinely delicious. She frowned at that."

    Your misery is my entretainment! Sweet, funny entretainment.

  6. Meh
    4.3, 4.1, 5.0

  7. This is my favorite story so far. Wow. What a nut.

  8. JMG, where do you find these women? I feel like it takes a special kind of crazy to attract this kind of crazy...oh, interwebs :)

  9. This story is amazing. My favorite part: "It's okay, number 101! There's a Taylor Lautner meet-and-greet right across the street!"

  10. "I turned to her and asked, 'What now? Negatives? Complex?' Then, with special emphasis, 'Irrationals?'"

    At that point I'd be wishing she were imaginary....

  11. Imagine this chick in the sack ..... Ohhhh 6.7 .... right there ... 9.5 yes yes yes .....lmao .... oh man this chick is hilarious .. the fact she rated out loud in awesome ... annoying I can imagine but awesome .... should have slayed her dude to see what your score could have been hahaha

  12. Wow, Jared. A story of yours that was actually entertaining. ;) Seriously though, I agree that I would have cut the date out the second she started rating my chewing. I don't have time for that level of batshit insane/judginess.

  13. You should have hit it. Based on your score, a number of tickets which can be traded in for prizes would have printed out of her vag.

  14. Jolly good work Jared. You've earned yourself praise from Nikki, the authority on literary prowess and precept for comment posting.

    It may be more enthralling to hear about how you made it home rather then your verbosity of the counting girl's each and every endeavor.

    I'm not sure what is worse, enduring her company or the fact that she deprived you of the total and then drove off.

  15. 6:43:

    Thanks for the constructive criticism.

    I drove home. The end.

  16. sounds made up to me, therefore i can only give it a 2.5

  17. I was under the impression that your date drove you to the State Park from the coffee place. So when you mentioned she took off I had all kinds things coming to mind... having to hitch a ride from less than desirable chauffeur, or something of a bizarre or funny or embarrassing nature.

    Imagine (my remix) -

    I met this girl for a date at a coffee shop in which we planned to go hiking afterward. We each ordered a sandwich, at which time she began verbally rating my actions and continued to do so throughout the course of our hike at the state park in which she drove us to from the coffee shop.

    She insisted driving, and yes she immediately lowered my interest in her with the incessant verbal ratings 5.2, 3.6 etc.

    I overlooked the awkwardness poorly rationalizing she had first date nervousness expecting her to loosen up during the hike. That did not turn out to be the case.

    And wait... the best part. After the hike in the parking lot, this girl asks me if I want to know the final score... but she forgot. She then tells me I've been relegated to a score of zero, jumps in her car taking off abruptly showering me with gravel dust. The haze of what just took place hadn't dissipated even after the dust settled leaving me in utter awe. What a classy women, the guy that snags her will be one lucky man.

    How the hell am I to get home?

    [Some crazy story about getting to your car, no cell phone service, lack of traffic and people around, maybe throw in an encounter with a bear or Buck in heat, lost a shoe, bruised and bloody, torn clothing, and that you ran into some hot girl (back at the coffee shop) who took sympathy on your experience, who also offered her number saying that she will take you out on a proper date and would treat you with respect]

  18. Now I know how a tortured turkey feels.

  19. 8:52, you need a life. You rewrote a dating story on a Saturday night. In detail. Therapy would help you but turning your computer off now and then might do the trick on its own. Good luck!

  20. Worst part, 8:52? Your story was poorly-written and not nearly as witty as you thought it was.

    Gonna have to give it a 1.5, and as 6:43 pointed out, I am pretty much the end-all, be-all of commenters on this site. I'm sorry...you'll have to leave.

  21. @6:39 AM

    The date and timestamp values reflect the server's time zone (GMT-5). Thus, actual time relevant to the poster may vary from 7 hours prior up to 17 hours ahead. GMT-12/GMT+12

    Thanks for the concern though. Care to comment on your post time of 6:39 AM? What time did you actually post your criticism?

  22. @Nikki

    It was my intention to provide

    Maybe you could teach me to be a better writer given your omniscience. But could you be more 'general' on the criticism?

    FYI, 6:43 was posted by me (being delusional probably contributed to that oversight).

    Cross reference "literary prowess" and "precept" to the love note I left you in the comments under "The Love Juggler". You may not have had the pleasure to read it.

    Looks like we are in it for the long haul. For the qualities I lack you possess, we complete each other.
    (*note to self - start saving for the ring)

  23. Oh, and Nikki... I just love how you talk dirty to me.

  24. 8:52, a big yellow truck with pink graphics spelling "pussy wagon" pulled in, a tinted window lowered revealing a toothy grin, then these fateful words "my name is Buck, and I came to fuck" rang out. Thus providing the perfect ending to a totally screwed up meeting.

  25. I LOVE IT. I love everything about it.

  26. Kind of lost points on the name dropping. Other than Steve Buscemi, I have no idea who any of the other people were. She was crazy, you only get a 1.2 on the obscure analogies.

  27. Sorry, Anonymous Sarcastic Stalker, I stop going back and reading comments after a certain point. Far too much trolling to get through. Sorry you can't pick up on sarcasm as easily as you can dish it out. Stop taking yourself so seriously.

    PS: I'm baby-free. That's my niece. So if I lose my job (which I won't, because I work for the government), it really doesn't affect her beyond the fact that her birthday and Christmas gifts from me won't be as expensive.

  28. It's not meat lips, but that'll do.

    I would have slapped her mid lunch. 9.6 on your patience to my 2.3.

  29. I loled at turkeys being taught English. 8.5 :D


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