That's the Way the Mercedes Bends

Story Sent in by Val:

Brad and I met online. He was cute and had started his own upholstery business. Within a week of his first message to me, he asked me out on a date.

We were supposed to meet one evening for dinner. I arrived in front of the cafe a bit early, and I was nervous, but couldn't wait to meet him.

He showed up in a superhero mask and shiny, dark blue spandex.

"Whoa!" he said, pointing at me from down the sidewalk, "A lady in distress!" He ran for me, grabbed my arm, then pulled at me, as if to yank me away from the restaurant.

"What's all this?" I asked him.

"Your made-to-order superhero man. I'm Elastic Man! I am so bendable man!"

He let go of me and demonstrated some stretches with his arms and legs. Truly, he was a marvel of flexibility.

I clapped, deciding to play along. He then bowed low and said, "Elastic Man wants you to bend with him!"

He grabbed for my arm and tried to bend it. I ripped away and said, "Uh, I don't think I'm as bendable as you are."

"Elastic Man says to bend or end!" he said, "Bend or end!"

He stepped away and bent around again: on his back, on his side, sitting, standing, a full acrobatic demonstration, right on the sidewalk. If he had a hat or coffee cup, he could've probably collected a good amount of coin from passersby.

After a good five minutes, I said, "What say we grab dinner, Elastic Man?"

He jumped to his feet. "Bend or end, my lady. Bend or end."

He looked at me, expectant. I didn't know what to do, so I tried a simple stretch, hoping that it would be enough. He shook his head, took several big steps back, tripped over the curb, and smashed back, into a parked station wagon.

"Oooh!" he cried out.

I ran to his side. "Are you okay?"

He regained his footing, nodded, and said, "Let's get dinner, my lady." He presented me with his arm, and escorted me to the restaurant.

We attracted some stares, to be sure, but overall, dinner was mostly painless. He kept asking me if I would bend for him, and I continuously, politely declined.

When the check came, I offered to pitch in. He refused the offer, paid, and ran off right afterward, his fist hoisted high in the air, off to fight crime or save a cat or bend or whatever he wanted to do with the rest of his life.


  1. Methinks he must be sniffing some kind of toxic fumes down at the ol' upholstery shop, like the old hatteries of yore.

    In any case, at least the OP wasn't a dinner-wh0re... :-p

  2. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theophilus_Carter

    1. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bender_Bending_Rodriguez

  3. 2 options here besides the mad hatter theory stated above:
    1. am i going to have to be the first to say it? it was a dare. he probably made more $ off the date than what the dinner cost him.
    2. or the op is a fatty and/or ugly, and this was his plan for escape in such a situation. if she's hot, he hops into a phone booth and he's a veritable clark kent for the date. obviously, the op was not.

    i must add that i believe the op may have missed the boat on this one since elastoman probably translates into a superhero in the bedroom as well.

    am i the only one who now has radiohead's the bends in their head now?

  4. Why assume he was trying to sabotage the date? It sounds like a (very) quirky sense of humor to me, perhaps just trying to make the first date memorable and give her a laugh. The worst thing he did here was not let the "bend or end" joke go, which is fairly minor on the scale of social awkwardness, and doesn't even register on the scale of social malice.

  5. He sounds like he could have been fun and quirky, but unfortunately he was too insistent. If he'd asked her to bend once or twice then let it go.... But no.

  6. Who doesn't have a story that starts "He was cute and he had started his own upholstery business"?

  7. I call Title-Plagiarism!


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