Embarrassing Dating Tales II: The Damaging ’80’s

I’m sure you’ve all been on the edge of your seats for the second installment of my series, Embarrassing Dating Tales of Susan’s Past, so I apologize for the delay. This flashback is from my college years. I’m not sure if this second report is more “embarrassing tales” than the events that have scarred my dating psyche ever since. You be the judge.

We all have done embarrassing things as teenagers. You know, things like standing on the football field with the band during an assembly and fainting in front of your entire high school. (I was so determined not to call attention to myself by walking off the field when I first felt ill.) Or walking the entire length of a mall unaware that the little detour through the lingerie section of Anchor Store A caused a bra to fall from the rack and become hooked on the back pleat of your winter coat. Apparently, my companions did not notice the teeny ugly white bra hanging behind me as we walked across an entire mall. Nobody did…until in Anchor Store B, when a handsome man behind me on the escalator said something like, “Miss, you have a bra hanging on the back of your coat.”

Note: If you’re going to accidentally walk off with a bra hooked on the back of your coat at least have it be a lacy, hot pink or leopard print one.

I digress.

So, while reminiscing with my college friends two weekends ago, we walked down memory lane and named our top hook-ups and/or horror stories from those days. Here are mine:

Story 1. I was on a blind date with my friend L., her date and his friend. I remember not being overly impressed with the friend looks-wise, but the highlight of the evening was when he recounted a story to me about his drinking stamina. He told me he had been out with his friends and had been so drunk (proclaimed in a loud, proud voice!) that he didn’t notice he had vomited into the beer pitcher he was drinking out of and, therefore, just kept on drinking.

This was how I learned a skill that would be critical in all future dates: the ability not to wretch, but instead to smile and nod like this was the most interesting factoid a woman could ever hear. Because, honestly, what’s more attractive than a man who can stomach his own vomit?

Story 2. I was desperately in like with this guy in my psych class, even though he didn’t pay much attention to me. One night we both happened to be at this basement-death-trap bar and rather inebriated, he much more than I. He and I flirted and left to go back to his apartment. (Don’t worry, Mom and Dad, it’s really not that bad.) Imagine the scene: we’re getting acquainted on his living room sofa while his roommate walks in and out, presumably hoping to catch a glimpse of something. (He did not because we were both clothed. And I’m not just saying that b/c my parents are reading this.) Sade is singing “Smooth Operator” on the stereo. “Purple Rain” is playing silently on the TV. (This is where you smile and nod, and hold back that wretch.) Next thing I know, the guy completely and utterly passes out in the midst of a passionate kiss/embrace – still breathing, but not about to wake for the next 24 hours. Apparently my feminine wiles didn’t do much for him. I don’t think his roommate even noticed as I left, completely and utterly disgusted.

Story 3. I am talking to my boyfriend, who goes to a different school approx. 12 hours away. I must have given the phone to my friend L. because I learn she has made an idle promise to his friend that she would sleep with him, but, alas, we are all so far away. The next morning, approximately 13 hours later, guess who shows up at my door? Boyfriend and Friend of Boyfriend.

L. is both amused and horrified, with no intention of keeping her promise, but all is left in good humor. BF and I go to hang out in my dormroom; L. and F of BF go to hers, exactly one floor above mine. A short time later, I hear someone singing the theme song from Indiana Jones, and look at BF confused. There, dangling outside of my window, is F of BF hanging from a bedsheet — from the fourth floor window of L’s room. Good God, teenagers are stupid…but I think he was just trying to catch a glimpse of something. We pulled him inside and all ended okay.

L. told me how someone came up to her later recounting the story of how there was a guy hanging from one of the dorm room windows. This must make us famous! At any rate, I used to love Indiana Jones, but now I have mixed reactions when I hear the song. As if Harrison Ford wearing an earring and dating a woman my age, who is as big as my finger – excuse me, my finger when I was in college – wasn’t bad enough…

[Read the first Embarrassing Dating Tales here. Be ambitious: read Part 3, too. They’re good ones.]

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7 thoughts on “Embarrassing Dating Tales II: The Damaging ’80’s

  1. Sophie says:

    Story 1: Like, who would want to be kissing THAT mouth?!? Well, at least he was honest about his drinking problem. Nice to know what you are up against in the beginning of a friendship.

    Story 2: You were saved by the bell, believe me.

    Story 3: WHA?!?!? 🙂

  2. I obviously led a sheltered life in high school because my dating stories could be wrapped up in about two sentences. And it sounds like I should be…thankful?

  3. The fact that I can’t think of any dating horror stories leads me to believe that perhaps I was the cause of the horror in most instances.

  4. Let me just say that perhaps the most embarrassing thing about all of this is that this was about the extent of my dating life. Period. I didn’t date much in high school or college, not for lack of wanting to, but maybe that was a good thing??!

    Sophie, yes, re: #1, I may have managed a goodnight peck on the cheek or near the lips, but the last thing I wanted to do was to touch his mouth. Blech.

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