Friday, July 29, 2011

The worst date ever

You know those times when you are hanging out with a group of friends and bad-date stories come up? Well, here is the story of my worst date ever.

This was a date I went on back home in California, so it's been a couple of years now, but it still reigns as the worst. I had met a guy at a young single adult dance, we'll call him Bob. Bob chatted me up, asked for my number, and he seemed like a nice enough guy so I figured, why not? He called a few days later and invited me on a date to go ride bikes at the beach. I thought that sounded nice, I would just have to borrow one of my brother's bikes, but that wouldn't be a problem.

The day of the date comes, he picks me up. We're in his truck driving to the beach and chatting, and at some point he asks me how old I am, I was 23 at the time. I then find out that he is 35. Now, I met him at an activity that is meant for the 18-30 year old crowd, so that's a little odd. He's 12 years older than me, and that's also a little odd. Oh well, no biggie, not a deal breaker.

We get to the beach and it's one that I'm pretty familiar with and I'm a little confused.
Yeeeup, we're gonna ride on the sand. I'm thinking "Are you kidding me? You remember that I had to borrow a bike right? As in, I don't go mountain biking every weekend. As in, I thought we were biking on a path right next to the beach, you know, the kind with pavement.".

I stop whining internally and ask where we're riding to, because I don't know of an "end" on this beach, not for miles anyway. He assures me that there's a path a little ways down that we're riding to.

Alright, I decide to trust him. Here we go.
I start out determined to conquer this ride. We're riding in the wet part of the sand so it's fairly firm, but still takes some muscle to pump those bike pedals. We ride along for what felt like forever, and I'm starting to feel the burn. Pretty soon I look a little more like this:
I tell Bob that I'm getting tired and ask if we can take a break. He's very accommodating and we stop and watch the waves for a little bit. We get to talking and he decides to tell me that he already knows five things about me. He counts on his fingers as he lists them off to me:

1. Hot
2. Smart
3. Funny
4. Hot
5. Hot

Ha... ha... ha...

Seriously? I'm officially starting to get creeped out by you Bob. Oh, and by the way, still no sign of this "path" that we're heading towards. It looks like nothing but sand as far as the eye can see. Super.

I begrudgingly climb back on my bike and we go what feels like Forever- Round 2.

I am so tired, seriously. I now look like this:

It's at this point that I would like to point out a few of the reasons why this was a horrible date idea.
  1. Both of us are panting pretty hard to keep moving, especially me. It's a little difficult to carry on a conversation when you can't breathe. Great get-to-know-you activity, no really, g-r-e-a-t.
  2. I'm sweating, a lot, because this is a legit workout. I don't feel cute at all, I'm pretty positive that I don't look cute at all. I've said before that girls want to flirt when they feel comfortable and attractive and I don't feel like either of those things right now. 
  3. Awful planning, just awful. Maybe this was the perfect date for Susie McOutdoorsy. That is not me. When I tell you that I need to borrow a bike, that should have been the first indicator that this is not the right activity to take me on for a first date.
Alright, back to the date. I'm so pooped out that I make him stop for a third time. My legs are shaky because they're so tired. I tell him "Man, my legs are going to be noodles tomorrow!". He replies with "Those are the best lookin' noodles I've ever seen!".

Oh Bob, gross. Stop being so creepy! Stop checking out my legs, and updating me about how much you're enjoying them. Not ok. Especially because at this point some hatred toward you and this stupid bike ride is starting to fester.

Back on the bikes we go and we finally come to the path! Oh happy day, he didn't make the whole thing up.

Oh wait... what's this?


Holy mother of hills. I think it's the closest thing to a 90 degree angle I'd ever seen in pavement. That's it, this guy must be a hired hit man, instructed to kill me slowly and painfully.

There's no way I can ride up this hill, so we walk the bikes up it instead. We eventually reach the top and it dumps us to a random residential area, but at least there's pavement and it's not uphill. We find our way back to the main road that takes us down to the beach parking lot. I'm pretty sure I kissed the ground when we made it back to the car.

To give a quick synopsis if you weren't paying close attention... here's the before and after of me:


That is what a broken woman looks like. A broken woman with good looking noodle legs.

When I finally got home I decided to see just how long that bike ride really was. I pull up google maps and plotted the route that we took. We biked in the sand for SIX MILES, and then another two miles on the streets. Remember when you were in school and you had to run the four laps around the field for your mile run? I did that on a bike, in sand, 24 times. I don't feel so bad for whining and being exhausted now.

Bob called a few days later to see if I wanted to go out again.

Dear Bob: No.

6 comments:

  1. Shelly,
    That is one of the funniest stories I have EVER heard!!!! I knew you were funny...
    h-e-l-l-o you ARE a Konold but THAT story out does any of Bruce's stories and believe me...he has TONS of them! What a winner that Bob was! No wonder he is 35 and still not married! For sure he sounds like a CREEPER!! Amber has some stories like that of a guy who asked her out as a more dressy date so she is in heals then after dinner he stakes her somewhere to feed the ducks while walking on boulders! Sometimes you wonder if these guys have eyes! OR a brain! Keep up your great story writing! I find it very entertaining and a great way to exercise my diaphragm!! :)

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  2. Wow, that's a good date. Maybe Bob would be up for a double date next time we're there. Also, with all this dating experience under your belt, it's a wonder Michael and Eric don't use you as a resource for planning their own dates, or at least as a what not to do guide.

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  3. hahahahahahahahahahahaha (Just so you know, those are not metaphorical "ha's", I really did laugh that hard). This is outstanding! Bless your heart for putting up with that.

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  4. I got asked out by a 30 year old when I was 18. And this wasn't like an awkwardly-finding-out-ages-on-the-date thing. The conversation pretty much went [standard introduction stuff], oh you're 18 that makes me feel old, I'm 30, hey do you wanna go out some time?

    That was the first date I turned down. Haha.

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  5. Hahaha, that was a great story. It also makes me want to be more cautious about asking girls on bicycle-related dates...

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  6. Glad you loved the story!

    @the Colonel- Haha! Just stick to pavement and keep it under a mile or so and she shouldn't have anything to blog about.

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