The Pizza, the Pond, and the Wardrobe

Story Sent in by Mitchell:

Ashley had me over to dinner at her house. We had been seeing each other for three weeks, and she had tempted me over with the generous offer of, "Name something, and I'll make it for you." I inferred that she liked me a good deal, based on that. Previously, she had bragged a bit about her homemade pizza, and so I requested that she cook that up. I offered to bring something of my own, and so all seemed as though it would be a very pleasant evening.

It was a warm night, and before I showed up, over the phone, she asked if I'd want to eat on her back deck, overlooking a small pond. It sounded great. I arrived at her house and walked around to the back.

A cast-iron table set with glasses, plates, napkins, and silverware awaited me. Two chairs with pillows were set at the table. A note was under a glass: "Hi Mitchell. Make yourself at home. I'll be back soon….?"

I wasn't sure what she meant by the ellipses and question mark, and I looked inside the back door window, which looked through to a pantry. There was a light on in a nearby room, but I couldn't see anyone. I sat down and waited for her.

After 10 minutes, she hadn't arrived, and I took a walk around the pond in the dusk. Still, she didn't arrive. Maybe she needed help with something. I called her and left a message.

Fifteen minutes later, I tried her again. It was growing darker and darker out. I knocked on the door to the house and tried the knob. It was open. I walked into the silent house to find lights on in the kitchen and all the signs of a hasty, four-person dinner strewn about the kitchen table. It smelled like someone had been cooking pizza. No one was present. I called for her, walking through all the rooms of the downstairs, and there was no reply from anyone.

I walked upstairs and down the hallway, calling for her. No response. No one seemed to be home.

Leaving the house, I walked around it, called for her some more, returned to the backyard, waited a bit longer in the dark, entered the house again, called for her some more, then phoned her, left another message, and left.

Several hours later, an email arrived from her, and she was mad: "Mitchell, way to ruin the evening! I guess I'm not important enough to you to have looked everywhere for me. I was just hiding in my bedroom wardrobe! You could've looked a bit harder but I guess that I'm just not worth it to you, and then you even left! I made you what you wanted and still you left! This is NOT how I expect to be treated and in the future I expect that you will demonstrate greater concern for me and my wellbeing."

I didn't reply, and haven't seen her since.


  1. A REAL MAN wouldn't have given up so easily. I guess your genetic material is not suitable for combining with her's...

  2. I heart people who set up traps for their dates in order to "test" them. It always ends pretty much exactly the way you'd think.

  3. Any other date would have screamed at him for "invading their privacy", but she wanted him to pull out all the stops.

  4. ^Exactly! As in, "What are you doing in my bedroom, going through my closet!"

  5. I would've taken some food with me when I left.

  6. Clearly, she wanted him to enter the house, find her weed, get high, then having the munchies, eat the pizza.

    After that, get high some more and see through the wood, noting her location in the wardrobe.

    Seeing through wood while high is all the rage.....

  7. Oh forgot to add: Howie will be getting high, right after purchasing a wooden lingerie set for this girlfriend.

    Bad call - Think of the splinters!

  8. Sadly I believe this story because I dated (and lived with) a girl like this. She would randomly hide and "test" me to see how long I would spend looking for her. I caught on to the game after about the 3rd or 4th time. After that, if she went missing, I'd go play video games with the volume loud enough so that she'd know I wasn't looking for her, or just silently leave but close the front door hard enough so that she knew I left.

    Chicks and their head games...

    1. It's chicks like me that don't play head games that don't get boyfriends or dates. Yeah, I'm bitter. And now my bitterness is why I don't get dates. Circle of life...

  9. I would have just robbed her liquor cabinet once I came to conclusion she led me one for some weird reason.


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