The Ball, the Chain, and the Muumuu

Submitted by Elizabeth:

James chatted me up at a bar, and I gave him my number.  His first time calling me, he asked if we could meet up for a date.  It was a little fast, but he made the case that we had already met once in person.  I didn't see any harm in a dinner date.

He asked me if I'd be able to pick him up at his suburban house, since he didn't have a car or easy access to public transport.  I didn't mind the idea, and I made it to his place a little early.

I went to his door and rang the bell.  A woman, around my age, in a muumuu, answered.

I introduced myself and asked if James was home.  She asked me if I was his date.  I said that I was.  The woman told me to wait, and she closed the door.

I heard her yell, "James!  Get down here!"

A few moments later, James came to the door.  He invited me in.

The place was a sty.  A small mountain of take-out cartons sat on top of a half-dozen full garbage bags, and that was in the middle of the living room.  James pulled out a wicker chair without a bottom.

"Here, sit on this... somehow," he said as he put his mismatched shoes on.  "Sorry.  I won't be another minute."

The woman appeared again and gave James a list.  He pocketed it and she eyed me suspiciously.  I asked her what her name was.

She belched and farted in response.  I stepped toward the door.

"Okay, time to go," James said, hugging the woman and kissing her on the mouth.  "Love you," he said, then turned to me.  "Let's go."

Out in the car, before I pulled away, I asked him, "What is going on here?"

He explained that the woman was an ex-girlfriend who had gone way, way off the deep end.  She apparently thought that the two of them were still going out!  He had promised to take care of her until she was back on her feet.

"She's getting better," he explained, "She's letting me do the grocery shopping on my own, now," he said, pulling out the list she had handed him.  "Is it okay if we stop on the way back?  It'll be quick."

I still hadn't moved the car.  There was still an opportunity to cancel.  I told him that I wasn't comfortable with a situation in which an angry-seeming, muumuu-wearing woman thought that I was stealing him away.

He teared up, moaned that it was so hard for him to get laid, and asked if I'd drive him to the grocery store and just cut out the date part.

The whole mess made me uncomfortable, but I told him that I'd drive him to the store if he'd find his own way back, I don't know, by calling a friend or something.  Going back to that house gave me a bad news feeling like you wouldn't believe.

He agreed to my plan, I dropped him off, and that was that.  Saddest, shortest "date" I've ever been on.


  1. BP is putting a new cap on the leaking oil well. It could capture up to 90 percent of the disgusting filth that's spewing from there. And if it works, they're going to try the same thing on Mel Gibson.

  2. "He teared up, moaned that it was so hard for him to get laid"
    haha so lame... is that meant to *help* him get laid??

    Nice move abandoning this guy pronto!

  3. Mel Gibson pulled out of a really great movie project, which is the second worst career move he has made since buying Oksana that tape recorder.

  4. Well OP what IS your age or at least give us some idea? This guy sounds like a loser that lives like a slob and is okay with it. Good thing you ran away

  5. Seven-Thirty9/15/2010 11:21 AM

    Excellent account. The misery came through beautifully.

  6. Frightening.

  7. This is why you don't date a man who doesn't own a car. You missed a huge red flag there. Excluding a select bunch of big city dwellers, adults own cars. Plain and simple. Raise your standards a bit and you will avoid losers like this one.

    1. Not just big cities. Plenty of people manage in smaller cities just fine without the expense of cars. It's amazing what a good public transit system will do.

  8. Heck, I got my first car when I was 16. How old is the OP? is this a story about teenagers?

  9. I could see not having a car if you lived in a big city where everything you need/do is within walking distance. But the suburbs? You just plain need a car to get around. And the fact that he doesn't have one is a red flag for sure. I know people can be down on their luck and deserve the benefit of the doubt, but come on...

  10. ^Why would a couple of 16-year-olds live on their own? It seems to me that this is just a couple of fucked up mid-20-somethings with a really unhealthy codependent relationship, and the poor OP got sucked into their drama.

  11. Say what you want about Mel Gibson but at least he has a car! ;)

  12. My name is



    Pleased to make your acquaintance. Good morrow to you, madam.

  13. She lets him do the grocery shopping by himself now and, if you hold his hand, he can cross the street too!

  14. He can only ride his bike around the block though! Poor dear. Maybe his training wheels will come off soon enough!

  15. I didn't get a car until I was 20/21.. I rode my bike everywhere, often 5 or more miles a day. It's not too unreasonable..

    Granted, as soon as she walked in the door she should have turned and walked out..

  16. Home-wrecking whore!


    Now that I've got that out...
    This story was actually quite censored. Jared is a Jew, after all, and we all know Jews started Communism (not full Jew though, just a bit Jew-ish). Here's what REALLY happened:

    Excited to James for their arranged date, when Elizabeth arrived at the door, she was a bit hesitant to put her finger on the ancient-looking doorbell with a slightly darkened ring of mold around the trim of the button. Reluctantly, she pulled a napkin out of her handbag and used it to cover her bony index finger while she pressed to ring the bell. She waited a moment, tapping her foot on the floor to a song stuck in her head she heard and sang along to on the radio while driving home from work this afternoon. "I'm so excited, this is going to be great!" she exclaimed silently to herself. As the door creaked open, a chain jolted the door into position only a few inches open. Elizabeth could see an eye peering through the crack in a darkened room lit only by glow of the television airing Rambo: First Blood. The reflexion gleamed on the coffee table covered in magazines, a large pizza box, and its accompanying crumbs, remnants of the massacre of what was once a hot meal.

    "Who the fuck is it?!" thundered a growl from within.
    "Oh, uhm... hi. I'm Elizabeth," she whimpered.
    "Hold on," came a raspy grumble, and the door slammed shut. "Hey faggot, get your ass down here!"

    Elizabeth was already starting to regret this date. "Fuck, how am I going to get out of this one?" she pondered. Just as she was turning to walk back to the car, the door swung open. The smell of animal urine overcame Elizabeth in a wave that felt like a brick wall.
    "Hey, Lizzy, what's up? Come on in," James called from inside.
    "It's Elizabeth, please. I don't really care for Elizabeth," she replied and walked hesitantly toward the door.
    "Sure, sure. Come on in. Here, sit here, somehow for a bit; I'll just be a minute." James rested what was left of a wicker chair against a wall in a dim corner.
    "I'm fine, I can stand and wait" Elizabeth noted as she saw the jagged, frayed hole in what used to be the seat of the chair. The edges of the hole were bent in as if caved in by pressure. Perhaps James was dumb enough to stand on a wicker chair while changing a light bulb? "Should I really be dating guys I meet at a bar?" Elizabeth thought, increasingly regretting stepping foot in this shithole of an excuse for a living environment.

  17. James made haste and threw on the first shoes he could find. He looked anxious and unsettled. Maybe he was just nervous for the date? He rushed toward the door when a large hand collided with his shoulder, stopping him dead in his tracks.
    "Here, fix this" came a voice from the dark. Suddenly, as Rambo stood shooting his gun in the reflexion of the television, a figure came into view from the bright ambient glow and what looked like a pale, pinkish-white wildebeest appeared from the darkness draped in a light blue muumuu with white spots.
    "Fucking Christ, she's a monster!" Elizabeth thought to herself. "What the hell is that thing?!"
    "Hi, ... what's your name?" she diplomatically queried.
    "Fuck off." Her chins wiggled as she tilted her head and nodded while chastising.

    "Yeah, okay then, we're gonna head out. See ya later, love you!" he stammered while giving her the quickest peck on the lips before walking full-speed to the door. "Let's hit it."
    He looked back to give a smile to the mutt he just proclaimed love to.

    Elizabeth and James walked back to Elizabeth's car at a pace close to jogging. They jumped in, buckled up, and before she could move any further, Elizabeth's curiosity got the best of her.
    "Okay, so what's the deal here? What is going on?"

    "Shit!" James thought. "She'll never take the bait if I tell her I'm married."
    "That's, uh, an ex-girlfriend. We broke up a while ago, but she's not having the greatest of times right now. Financial situations are rough for her, and she's a bit psycho. She's pretty bossy, but she's getting better, really. I almost feel that I'm to the point I can leave her and she won't flip out. Heh, look, she even lets me go shopping on my own now!" He pulled a wrinkled piece of paper that looked like a bullet list. "Mind if we stop by the grocery store on the way back?"

  18. Elizabeth tried to think of what to do to salvage the rest of the evening, or make a quick escape. Should she stay? James was no keeper himself. In the bar, he claimed to be 35, when in daylight, it looked like a really rough 35. Early 40s seemed to feel more appropriate. His smell reminded Elizabeth of the putrid odor from inside the house. His facial stubble made it seem like he hadn't shaved in several days, and he looked a bit ridiculous wearing shoes that didn't even match. "What am I supposed to tell my family about how we met?" she thought to herself. "We met at a bar? That'll go over well. We can just tell them we met at the grocery store. It seems appropriate."

    Elizabeth started the car, but something still didn't sit right. She stalled with her hand on the shift. Suddenly, James burst into tears.
    "She's just so mean to me. She hits me. I know it's all my fault, and that if I made her happy it wouldn't happen, but I try! I really do! I just don't really know what to do anymore," he whined. "I can't go through with this. Can we just go to the store so I can get this food for her?"

    "I don't really think I'm into this. I'll tell you what, I'll drop you off at the store. You can go do your shopping, but I'm going to go. Do you have a friend you can call or do I need to call you a cab home?"
    "No, I'll be fine. Thank you."

    Elizabeth rolled the windows down to relieve the smell and hopefully salvage her poor car interior of smelling like piss for days.
    "I just don't know what to do anymore. I haven't had sex in months! I'm dying here, and I'm stuck with that in there! I can't get hard to that. At least you looked hot at the bar, and I was able to really get myself riled up. It's just too bad we couldn't finish the job. Well, I guess we still could, if you wanted to go behind the grocery store in the back lot."

    "No, how about I just drop you off there and I'll go meet up with friends?" Elizabeth asked, appalled at the suggestion.

    "Whatever, just drive. Fuck this place."
    Elizabeth pressed to the gas to the floor, determined to relieve herself of this problem once and for all.
    James sobbed, "I hate that bitch. You know, because she's fat." As Elizabeth sped away, James leaned out the window and let out a bellow toward the fading house, "FAT BITCH!!!"

  19. wow...tmtoyh

  20. ^ You misspelled "Toyota".

  21. @ Gulliver...

    "FAT BITCH" not funny months ago, still not funny. even the Tiger Woods jokes are better, at least more original.

  22. ^Disagree. I think the above story by Gulliver was a good read and fairly original. Much more interesting than the manifestos Seven-Thirty spews in this forum.

  23. I think 4:41 is just taking it personally because they're fat.


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