Stop, Speed Racer, Stop

Story Sent in by Franklin:

Colleen was really into motorsports. I'm not. That's about all the background you need. She was a Midwestern transplant onto the coast, and when she first messaged me, she sounded really engaging, so I thought a date with her couldn't go bad.

We met up on a Sunday to take a walk and have brunch. She swerved the conversation right into motorsports, talking about all sorts of racers and cars and races that didn't mean much to me, but I tried to be an eager learner.

Then, she told me, "You know, I used to be a racer."

"You were?"

She said, "Oh yeah. Won the Lawrence Cup, the Smith Cup, and the Philadelphia Cup. First woman to snag all three."

I had never heard of any of those cups, but still, I said, "Congratulations. That's really great."

She gave me a look and said, "You think I'm kidding?"


"I'll show you."

She led me to where she had parked her car and climbed into it. So did I.

"No," she said, "You wait here. I want you to time me around the block. I guarantee I'll beat any time you've ever seen anyone do it."

I had never actually timed anyone else going around that particular block before, so she very likely was going to be impressive, regardless of how fast she went. I watched her pull out, signal into the light traffic, and drive off.

A few minutes later, she returned to the same parking spot. She asked me, "Well?"

I replied, "That was great. Pretty fast."

"Pretty fast?" she said, then threw the car back into drive and drove off, without another word. I assumed that she was going for another pass around the block, perhaps to impress me with how fast she could drive around a suburban block.

Sure enough, she returned, in the amount of time that I honestly thought average for a spin around the block. She asked me how I thought she did, and I told her, "That was definitely faster. I was really impressed." I hoped that that would be the end of it.

She said, "Watch this!" then took off again.

She took a bit longer that third time, but did return and said, "Red light held me up. Watch this," then sped off for a fourth and final time.

When she came back, I told her, "That was definitely the fastest. I can see why you won those cups."

The rest of the date went all right, if you consider a long discussion about all things motorsports to be all right. I decided not to contact her for a second date, but I did look up the cups she had mentioned. I couldn't find a trace of them whatsoever, nor her name alongside any kind of race.


  1. GM Chrysler what a bad date! I checked it out and the Laurence Cup and the Smith Cup were her last two boyfriends. The Philadelphia Cup was just a tub of cream cheese she had in her fridge but by god she finished it faster than anyone!

  2. Amazing what dudes will put up with for a chance of vajayjay time...

    1. That can be true, but in this case the OP said he didn't want to contact her again. He was just being polite.

    2. Not until the end of (or perhaps even after) the date did he decide he didn't want to see her again. Up until that point, he very well could have been in active pursuit of vajayjay time.

  3. Wow! Where these all crazies on these stories come from? I haven't met anybody this cray cray! Not that I am complaining. Not a bit!

  4. Gods of wishes, this is not one of my wishes. Do not, I repeat do not, send crazies crashing my life, as you seem to confuse my wishes and idle curiosities lately.

  5. I got sad when OP told me I didn't need anymore background information...and then gave me more background information.

    1. Well, MCs always say "And now, a man who needs no introduction..." and proceed to introduce the guy.

      Just once, I'd like to see them say that, then turn and walk off the stage.

  6. Isn't it men, not women, that typically bloviate interminably about their favorite subject despite their victim's mounting apathy?


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.