Old Flame

Story Sent in by Corine:

Daniel was a nice guy from my college English class. We flirted a fair amount and we studied together. One night in the library, our one-on-one study time turned into a make-out session and he asked me out on a proper date for that weekend.

The date went great and I had a terrific time with him. We went to dinner and candlepin bowling. I had no indication whatsoever that anything was out of the ordinary.

After the next week, which was the final week of classes, he asked if he could come over to my sublet to cook me dinner. I was floored, as no guy had ever offered to do such a thing for me before. Of course I said yes.

He cooked chicken and pancakes (a strange but somehow amazing combination) and we sat down to eat. Shortly after we began, he told me he had a surprise for me and told me to close my eyes. I trusted him and so I did.

I heard the sounds of him shuffling around and then my house door closing, as if he went outside. He was gone for a little while when one of my housemates came yelling down the stairs, "Something's on fire in the front yard!"

Oh, there was a fire in the front yard, all right. But it wasn't just anything on fire: I soon discovered that it was my school backpack! That ass-hat had actually taken my bag, brought it out to the front yard, and lit it on fire. Why? I couldn't begin to guess.

We called the fire department and filed a police report. He ended up on probation for the following term in addition to having to replace my bag and the two textbooks within. Thank goodness I didn't have anything irreplaceable in it! He did all the replacements through intermediaries and I never actually saw him again after that night.


  1. Is this some version of cross burning I've never heard of? Burn a backpack on the front lawn to get you to move out of your pants?

  2. He was obviously making a political statement about the decreasing value of a college education verses the rising cost of tuition. The fire symbolized the oppressiveness of the pressure put on young people by their parents, society, and the media to go into soul-crushing debt for a degree that will not help them get a better job in a depressed economy. My god this man was deep.

    Or he was batshit crazy. Yeah, I'm going with batshit crazy.

    1. This comment has been removed by the author.


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.