I am minor-ly obsessed with “Friends” and have so many episodes that I love but this one brings up the topic of horrible dates. I have had so many wonderfully horrible dates and I feel this is the best topic to do for this blog post. I am grateful for these dates, not because they made me a stronger person (that whole concept is crap), but because now I have the absolute best stories to share. Moments and stories that have made my friends pee their pants and I love it! Like I said I have many horrid date experiences…as well as good but I will share a couple of the stories. I will now share the first of these stories with you and save the second one for a later post this week. I will also tie in the media on the next horrible date post so stay tuned so you may know how this pertains to media. I hope you enjoy!
The first horrible date experience that I had is a funny one, although not the funniest. It is basically here to warm your diaphragm and abdominal muscles up for the story that will follow.
This first date took place in St. George with a young boy named Bitalo, now I pick this name for him because in Uganda that means finger-licking—I found this out when searching for boy names for my son, this little name will mean so much more to you at the end of the story and you will giggle just as much as I did when I came across it. So Bitalo was a friend of our families nephew from out of town. He was 17 years old, just as I was. It truly was not love at first site but hey a free meal and the flattery of being asked out by anyone is worth going out with someone at that age…hell at any age.
The date with Bitalo started with me picking him up, red flag anyone?! He didn’t have a car because…well come to think of it I’m not sure why, hum I should up my standards and listening skills perhaps. All the same I picked up Bitalo at my “second family’s” house. Once I got there his uncle and my “father-figure” said, “why did you ask her to drive, you creep?” So luckily he ended up letting Bitalo borrow his car for the night. When we got into the car I asked dear Mr. Bitalo where we were headed and the best answer he could come up with was, “ummmm…well…I guess dinner.” I’m really glad he had put a lot of thought into this date, I could already tell it was going to be a magical evening. Bitalo drove us to the Claim Jumper in St. George, hey at least he had good taste in food and knew I was not the dainty salad eating girl but really needed substance on my plate…in the form of a giant dead yummy cow! (That was meant to gross out the vegetarians out there). We sat down at the table after little delay, it was after all a Wednesday night at 6:00pm.
After ordering our meal we had a sparse conversation. Now for those of you that know me I can have a conversation with just about anyone. The only exceptions are lads like this fellow who do not contribute to the conversation in the least. I would ask a question like, “How are you today?” He would then look at me like I had just asked him, “What is the mathematical equation and the rate of speed that it takes to get an elephant into a space shuttle once it has already blasted off?” For real it was like he didn’t even know English. He did know English, it may not have been proper English but it was English all the same! Well luckily it did not take our food long to get there. I was thoroughly excited to dig in but of course wanted to look somewhat dainty while I plowed into my hunk of beef so I slowly grabbed my napkin, unrolled the silverware, placed that on the table and napkin in my lap. As I was doing this I was still trying desperately to talk to this young soul about absolutely anything…seriously I was pulling from all resources, sports, school, work, wax in ear canals even things like how much personality does a box of rocks tipped over in the desert have? I wanted to answer this with probably more than you but that of course would not have been polite.
I achieved the napkin unrolling and placement of silverware without a problem and as I was going to put my napkin in my lap I looked up to see him flip the napkin in the air to unroll it sending his fork and steak knife flying. Seriously this is a full on movie moment when everything goes still and the steak knife he so stupidly sent flying slowly falls to the table. I was relieved that the knife landed on the table, not sure how it didn’t end up in my face, but all the same grateful for its landing. I thought all was well until Bitalo sat up and abruptly held up his hand. I looked over, thinking all was innocent, only to see his fork, that silver steak fork hanging out of his hand. Of course I flipped out, really this is me and this is a situation in which an entire fork is now dangling out of my date’s hand. At this point of my minor—okay major break down—I heard Bitalo say, “Wow that is so cool! You really should look closely at this, it’s so cool!!” Then, because clearly I was not showing my full vomiting capability over blood, he thrust his hand at me. Well when someone thrusts a hand that has a fork coming out of it at you blood will in fact also be flung at you. I couldn’t not look, it was like a train wreck. The tong of the fork was in his middle finger, from his knuckle down to where his finger met his hand and you could honestly see every detail of that fork in his finger, every ridge, bend, everything. You could also see the blood running down the fork onto the table.
So if this entire penetration of the fork does not gross you out maybe what he did next will. He full on pulled the fork from his finger releasing even more blood. Truly I have never been that close to vomiting and passing out at the same time in my life. I was terrified I would then asphyxiate on my own vomit and that would be the end of me. It was an epic experience. I asked if we could please go and have my step-dad, a professionally licensed Doctor, stitch it up for him. I mean yes this was a giant steak dinner but even the carnivore in me could not stomach anything after this episode so why not leave and call it a night. Well Bitalo had different plans. He wiped his fork off on his white napkin, wrapped the same napkin around his finger and then proceeded to dig into his steak. Truly I cannot tell you what it took to hold back everything I had eaten that day, forget just that day, for my entire life!
Needless to say I ate next to nothing, only to not come across as a complete anorexic, and because well you should never let a yummy rib eye go to waste. Bitalo ate everything paid the check and then asked if I was ready to go. REALLY?! I was ready an hour ago, even before the blood bath I had witnessed! Well we walked to the car and once we got out he removed the napkin, he had just stolen, from his finger (another red flag, freaking klepto!) to show me the wound, apparently I had shown a great deal of interest in seeing the event unfold that why wouldn’t I now want to see this wound after filling my stomach?! He was for sure the brightest crayon in the box. Well the wound was as disgusting as you have just imagined and the napkin, stolen property, was of course covered in blood. I was so grateful to get home and grateful he self-proclaimed himself as a “MAN” and didn’t want my dad to give him stitches. And I’m sure you have guessed, our “relationship” sort of fizzled out after that…mostly because he went home and proceeded to tell my second family that we had made out, I would never do that with you in the first place and really with your repulsive bloody hand still attached to you? NO WAY!
Hope you enjoyed the first failed date story I shared with you today.
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