Faux Force Five

In early college, I met Rita in one of my classes.  She and I would chat before class, after class, and online.  I asked her out to dinner.  When I met her in front of her dorm, the first thing she asked me after a big hug was, "Is this a date?"

I wanted it to be.  She was attractive (short, blonde, and a lovely smile) and intelligent.  "I think so," I said.

Apparently, that wasn't the answer she expected.  She gave me a frown, said, "Oh.  I'll be right back," and returned to her dorm.

She came back about five minutes later as if nothing was amiss.  "Okay.  I'm ready, now."

We walked down the street and I asked her, "What was that about?"

She replied, "I just had to take care of a few things."  She obviously didn't want to tell me, so I didn't press the issue.  She didn't say much else, and I performed the vast majority of talking.  She'd answer my questions as quickly as possible, and she didn't seem at all as interested in conversation as usual.

Her mostly-silence continued until we made it to an Italian place at the edge of campus.  Once we sat down in a booth, she asked me, "Do you want to have sex with me?" with a tremble in her voice.

I replied, "It's a bit early to think about that.  Why don't we just focus on having a good time?"

"By 'good time,' you mean sex, right?  That's, like, guy code for sex."

"Not in my case."

"But you're a guy."


She clammed up after that, making dinner uncomfortable and awkward, although I did my best to keep the conversation going.

She interrupted me at one point to say, "You talk a lot.  If you're trying to talk me into having sex with you, then it's not going to happen."

I replied, "You're the one who seems obsessed with sex.  I haven't mentioned it once."

"Because you mentioned it."

"I never mentioned it."

She raised her hands as if she had spent the better part of the day teaching a toddler how to use the toilet, only to watch him point his rear at a white wall and spray.  "You're mentioning it right now!"

"Are you for real?"

She stood up and said, "I'll be right back," and walked off.  I watched her walk out of the restaurant, pull out her phone, and make a call.  She did not return, but instead waited out there.  I wanted to know what she was up to, but I didn't want the waitstaff to think that we were ditching the check.

I flagged down a waiter to ask him if he could check on her, maybe to ask her if everything was all right.  He did, and he came back to tell me, "She said that everything's about to be fine."  I didn't worry much about it, and instead turned back to my dinner.  I wasn't about to wait for her.

Ten minutes later, she walked back in with four other college-aged women.  They stood at the end of the booth, shoulder-to-shoulder, and blocked any exit.  One of them, tall and with glasses, said, "You'd better watch it.  Rita's one of us, and we don't let one of us get fucked with."

I replied, "There's going to be some major fucking if you all don't back off."

They looked at each other, likely not expecting to be resisted.   I asked the tall, bespectacled one, "Could you get a waiter for me?  I'd like to grab the check."

She leaned in to me and stuck a finger in my face.  "Don't fuck with Rita, okay?"

I shoved her finger away and yelled, "Back off!"  They didn't move.  Again, I yelled, "Back off!"  They stepped back.

The same waiter I had spoken to before came by and asked, "Is everything okay over here?"

I said, "I'd like the check, please," then glanced at Rita and said, "Separate checks."

One of the other girls turned to Rita and mumbled something like, "Asshole."

I paid for my half of the meal, shouldered past them, and didn't say another word.  I don't know what Rita meant to accomplish by bringing in reinforcements, but in the end, she accomplished quite a bit in ensuring that I thought her too nuts to interact with again.


  1. ...which, in retrospect, was probably fine by her.

  2. Yeah, she and her friends probably thought the OP got mad and stormed off because his plans to rape her were foiled.

  3. I was thinking at first that girlfriend might have ran back in to put in one of those birth control sponges. Then it was getting uncomfortable so she was asking about sex because she wanted to know if she should take it out or not. But enter the Pink Ladies and I'm all out of ideas.

  4. Wow, conceited much? To automatically assume that you're so attractive that all men want to sleep with you is incredibly arrogant.

  5. Another instance in which all she had to do was say "I'd really rather go out as friends," and problem solved.

  6. I'm thinking these girls were lesbians and that Rita was one too but didn't know how to tell the OP, so instead of just being normal and saying what Nikki said "let's just go out as friends b/c..." she had to go all psycho.

  7. Obviously these are rhetorical questions)

    WTF is wrong with people? Is it really that hard to say, "You'd rather be friends?"

  8. URGENT NOTICE to all men/guys (Chaz Bono + butch lesbians included) everywhere!!
    The code has been cracked, the women are on to us, 'good time' is no longer safe to use. As you all know Guy Codes (GCs) are 'I want to/let's have sex' cleverly disguised to appear genuine, innocent or unassuming. At this point it is to be assumed other GCs have also been compromised, as of now a complete revision is in effect. The following GCs may also no longer be safe:

    Can I buy you a drink?
    We should take things slow
    I respect your feelings
    How is your grandmother doing?
    How much for uhm, er you know?
    Let's go to a strip club
    Nice to meet you
    I've been hurt before
    I'm an accountant
    Guten Tag
    How was your day
    My faith is very important to me
    I'm Dominique Strauss-Kahn
    Good morning
    Godd afternoon
    Good evening
    I love you
    Can you help me, I'm lost
    So where're you from?
    Mind if I sit here?

  9. "I'm an accountant" ftw.

  10. "How much for uhm, er..." :)

  11. To be fair "I'm Dominique Strauss-Kahn" should never have been considered "safe".


Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.

Content Policy

A Bad Case of the Dates reserves the right to publish or not publish any submitted content at any time, and by submitting content to A Bad Case of the Dates, you retain original copyright, but are granting us the right to post, edit, and/or republish your content forever and in any media throughout the universe. If Zeta Reticulans come down from their home planet to harvest bad dating stories, you could become an intergalactic megastar. Go you!

A Bad Case of the Dates is not responsible for user comments. We also reserve the right to delete any comments at any time and for any reason. We're hoping to not have to, though.

Aching to reach us? abadcaseofthedates at gmail dot com.