Pardon My French

Story Sent in by John:

In college I dated Stephanie, who went to school about 150 miles away. It was clear that we were exclusive and over the course of our six-month relationship, we tried to see each other at least every two weeks. She invited me to a party at her sublet one Saturday night.

I arrived early, helped her and her housemates set up, the guests arrived, the booze flowed, and the music blasted.

As I mingled around, I found myself in conversation with Josie, a French major (like me) and we talked French for a while. Platonic. Friendly. That was all.

After our chat, I looked for Stephanie. I found her in a corner with her pants half off, making out with some tall blond guy. It wasn't quite how I imagined our relationship ending, but I took the high road, backed away without her noticing, and left the party.

When I was about 10 miles away, she texted me, "Where are you?"

I wrote back, "Out of your life."

She called and I (perhaps stupidly) picked up. She asked, "What's wrong? Where are you?"

"I didn't want to interrupt your fun with that blond guy, so I checked out."

A long pause on her end of the call. I was about to hang up when she said, "Drake is just a friend. It happens. I don't see what the problem is."

I replied, "That's the problem," and hung up.

She then texted me, "You're an asshoIe," and then a few minutes later, "AsshoIe," followed shortly thereafter by, "SUCH an asshoIe."

If walking out on her made me so, then I accept that. Still hurt, though.


  1. This comment has been removed by the author.

  2. I think Brad removed his comment because HE WAS THAT BLONDE GUY.


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.