Don't usually tell the Board my personal business, this is a first.
The date was with a girl I knew from back in high school. I kinda dug her back then but nothing came of it. Now, after 4 years in college, I decided to go for it. This was last weekend.
First things first, my car was in the shop. But I live in the metro Atlanta area, so I decided the bus would be a good alternative (she didn't have a car either). It wasn't the ideal "first" impression to make, but she understood.
The bus takes us to a strip mall where there is a Mexican joint that she loved to eat at. I love Mexican too, so hell yeah. We sit down, talk, eat, and I pay after the meal is over. Everything is peaches and cream.
That is until I feel a tug at my stomach. Mind you, I have never had this problem before. I excused myself and quickly shuffled my way to the restroom. After leaving her line of sight I broke into a sprint. Naturally, I wouldn't be telling this story if it ended amicably, so you can assume what happened next. I sh** my pants. It was everywhere, all down the backs of my legs...and it smelled something fierce.
I cleaned my ass up as best I could but my pants and underwear were done for. I smelled like Port-O-Potty. Ashamed, humiliated, and fearful of what would come next, I trudged back out to meet my smiling date. I kept my distance from her to avoid smell and tried to keep my head up so she wouldn't know something was wrong. Then she suggested, "Hey, the bus doesn't arrive for another 15 minutes and Old Navy is connected to this strip mall. I need some flip flops. Wanna go with me?"
"Hallelujah!" was all I could think. I could buy some replacements at Old Navy and ditch these smelly, sticky, ruined pants. At Old Navy, I immediately bee-lined for the men's section and picked out a pair of pants that were my size. I resisted to urge to buy boxers for fear of suspicion from her. But, I decided it would be a good idea to get a sweater too, to further decrease suspicion (why I don't know).
I take my outfit to the checkout lane and the lady scans both items. The price came out to over $100. I didn't want to spend that kind of money. I tried to speak to the cashier but just then, my date came up behind me and threw her arm around my shoulders. She said, "You're already checking out? You know you want to buy me these sandals too. They're really cheap!" ...God damn gold digger.
I eased away from her grasp, still self conscious about my horrible smell, and told the cashier to ring them up. But then I leaned in real close to the cashier and whispered to her, "Just the pants and the sandals. No sweater." She gave an awkward puzzled look like she didn't hear me. I tried to repeat myself, but my date interrupted me, "Oh no! I can see our bus coming up! Quick, you finish up here and I'll go hold the bus!"
She ran out the store. By the time I looked back to the cashier she was asking me, "Cash or credit?" I told her credit, swiped my card, grabbed my bag, and ran after my date, who was arguing with the bus driver. After I got on the bus, I jetted to the back to "use the restroom", carrying my bag with me. I flipped on the occupied sign, peeled my crap stained pants and boxers off, wadded them up in disgust, and poked them out the small bathroom window onto the street below. I cleaned my half naked self up once again with toilet paper and wet napkins and I reached into my Old Navy bag
...And pulled out a pair of pink sandals and a sweater. F***.
I gave myself the most epic facepalm I have ever received.
I don't need to continue. Officially worst date ever.
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Huh. I don't usually (and by that I mean never) take the bus. This one had a restroom. Thought that was the norm. Guess this was a deluxe bus, or maybe it's an Atlanta thing. No clue.
CommodoreTN posted... Oh my god you have to continue.
The rest of the story unfolds like you'd expect it to. I tried to squeeze, legs first, into the the sweater at one point. It obviously didn't fit and I managed to ruin the sweater's arms. Not to mention I looked absolutely ridiculous with my boys hanging out of the neck hole.
This was followed by me examining the Old Navy bag for a brief moment for possible shelter before coming to the conclusion that I my only option was to call her up from the bathroom and tell her the story. I tried to stay light-hearted about the story to hide my anxiety but she thought it was just a funny joke.
I got sterner with my voice and told her I really needed her help and that I was indeed half naked in the back of the bus. Then she thought it was the sickest thing ever. But she helped me out. I gave her my keys through the cracked bathroom door. When my stop came up she had to tell the bus driver to hold on again (I have no clue how that conversation unfolded, nor did I care to ask). She ran up to my place grabbed some pants and ran them back out to me.
I don't take being embarrassed too well. We're not going to hang out again.
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