A Fire Between the Seats

Story Submitted by Walter:

It was a Saturday night, I didn't have anything going on, and so I messaged three women on an online site to see if any of them wanted to hang out, no strings.  Coffee and a talk, that's it.

Melody wrote back first and said that she'd be up for something.  We spent about an hour getting to know each other.  What stuck out about her was that she was a painter who saw a therapist twice a week.  I didn't ask her why she needed such frequent therapy, but I was curious.

She said that she was in walking distance of a cafe.  I drove there and we went inside.

While there, she showed me pictures on her phone of some of her artwork.  There were portraits and landscapes, and they were actually pretty good.  So many times, people call themselves "painters," when all they do is splash paint on a canvas or draw shapes next to each other.  Watch me scribble a spiral on a piece of notebook paper and call it "symbolic for the triumph of the human spirit."  How much would you pay for it?  That's what I thought.

I digress.  Melody sucked down three cups of coffee and was becoming jittery.  I advised her to cut herself off, but she demanded that we go out to find marshmallows.

We went to an all-night store, bought a pack of jet-puffed marshmallows, climbed back into my car, and I tore into them.

"What are you doing?" she screeched, "We need to roast 'em."

She took a matchbook out of her coat and lit one.  She pointed to the marshmallow bag and said, "Hold one up."

I held it and she toasted it with her match, right there in the car.

Then, she brought the match near my skin and said, "Whoops!"

She was kidding around (I hope) but I jerked my hand away and she dropped the match between the seats.

"Is it out?" I demanded.

She looked between the seats and asked me if I had any water.  I jumped out of the car and ran inside the store to grab a bottle.

When I came back out, she was dropping more lit matches between the seats.

To put it nicely, I screamed at her to stop, and I doused water all over the seating areas of my car.

As for her, she was laughing the whole time.  She opened her match book with a frown.  "Out of matches," she said.

I kicked her out of my car and drove home.  We weren't too far from the coffee shop, so I'm sure that she didn't have a bad walk.


  1. Sometimes, Darwin misses one.

  2. Totally agree about the art thing; I will never understand how a piece of canvas with a red circle and a green square painted next to each other can be worth millions.

  3. Seeing a therapist regularly wasn't a big enough red flag for you?!

  4. By kicking her out of your car, I hope you mean physically kicking her out with your foot... not just saying get out

  5. ^What Ashley said. Though this story was hilarious!

  6. Seeing a therapist does not automatically mean you are crazy.

  7. Perhaps not Baku, but twice a week? surely that would cause suspicion

  8. Twice a week means that there are some serious issues to wonder about; but he only found out during the date and didn't bother to inquire out of respect (the right thing to do).

  9. Did she also put her shirt over her head and run around looking for TP?

    On a serious note... guessing she had some medication issues, like, it's really hard to find a good stable regimen to keep the mania in check. I have a few bipolar friends - once stable on meds they do very well, but things get a little sideways sometimes...

  10. Well now you know whey she is in therapy twice a week. Sociopath pyromaniac anyone?

  11. I don't think she's a sociopath, Melina. That was definitely a manic spell, tripped into overdrive by the excessive amounts of caffeine. It overwhelmingly does not excuse her behavior, but I have to agree that any person who has to see a therapist twice a week has more issues than you'd want to deal with on a boring Saturday night.

    Shit, when I was in college, I had to see a therapist once a week; I wouldn't wish that version of myself on anybody, much less a stranger.

  12. Therapist does not equal crazy. Therapist equals someone who has issues that they are working through. Clearly, she's got issues, likely of the medical variety. So while I agree that she was a bad date, let's not run to call her crazy. Going to see a therapist is hard enough because of the stigma, when in reality it's one of the best things a person in emotional pain can do for themselves.


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