Food for Thought

(Hey. For some odd reason, a lot of comments hit the spam filter lately. I just unblocked them all. Sorry about that. No one's been blocked. You'll just have to try harder. - JMG)

Story Sent in by Elizabeth:

Robert took me out to a local outdoor plaza food court. We ordered take-out Japanese at a nearby restaurant and went outside to sit at a table. As we divvied up our food, he glanced over mine and asked, "Did you get the spring roll you ordered?"

Sure enough, it was missing. He said, "I'll be right back," and disappeared around the corner, toward where the Japanese place was.

He didn't come back. I sat there as the food went cold. I called him and his phone went right to voicemail, as if he had switched it off, or maybe the battery was dead. I left a message, and finally ended up bagging up the food and searching for him.

I visited the Japanese place first. He wasn't there. I went back to the table. He wasn't there, either. Having exhausted my only leads, I decided to wait at the table for a little while longer and try his phone again. Voicemail.

I was about to leave when he showed up. He was sweaty and reeked of alcohol. "Hey Bethy-Boo," he said to me, then cracked up and sat on my lap. I shoved him off and he hit the ground.

"Where the hell have you been?" I asked.

He said, "I just stopped for a drink. Isn't that... isn't that what I told you?"

"You left to get my spring roll."

He sprang up. "Yeah! Your spring roll! Oh honey, I'm sorry. I completely forgot. I'll go right over."

I said, "It's too late. Just forget about it." It's more that it would appear suspect to the restaurant if we said that we were missing a spring roll that we should have gone right back to ask about 40 minutes prior.

Robert slurred, "Don't say that! Don't say that! I'm sorry! I'll get you any spring rolls you want... any, oh, God, I'm sorry. I just, I just..." he teetered and his hand went to his chest. I thought he was going to puke.

Instead, he said, "I would give so much money, right now, to see you naked."

Well, that's all, folks. I pulled his food out of the bag, slammed it on the table, and carried my food away from there. I thought he'd try to follow me, but I needn't have worried: the guy could honestly barely stand up, by that point.

He actually called me back two days later as if nothing had happened. I let it go to voicemail, but he referenced the messages I had left for him while I had been waiting. "Hey, Beth. Got your messages. You said you're waiting for me? Did we have a date scheduled today? Heh. Anyways, call me back..."


  1. Alcoholism is a terrible disease.

  2. FINALLY....Being blocked really hurt Howie

    1. Apologies. I actually was clued into the situation when I noticed a paucity of Howie comments. This place wouldn't be the same without you.

  3. Goddamn I'm going to do whatever I can to hang on to my man, especially after reading this post. Frack me, this is ridiculous.

  4. i once had a partner who took a roadie (a beer for the road) EVERYWHERE he went.. it was pretty embarassing seeing him put four beers in a bag for a trip into the city (the city was fourty minutes away) oh the mistakes we have all made Haha

  5. holy hell...you were way more patient than I would have been


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.