I am having a crappy week healthwise so I delved into some articles/journal entries/posts that I wrote a few years ago hoping for a little “pick up.” I came out feeling much better and thoroughly reminded that dating was not only a lot of work, but it was also full of funny experiences like this one:

“The world needs more love at first sight.” ~ Maggie Stiefvater, Shiver

I don’t think anyone goes on a first date hoping for anything less than a perfect date. At least I never did. I went on a first date with the hope that I would come across as witty and smart; that I would be dressed perfectly for wherever we wound up; that I would enjoy his company and sense of humour; that he would be the perfect gentleman and I the perfect lady. Most of all, I hoped there would be some sort of mutual chemistry. Who knows what the guy was hoping for lol.

Unfortunately, first dates don’t often go according to plan. A minor fail is not too serious but sometimes the universe brings out the epic fail guns that can either traumatise you or give something to laugh (or cry) about for a long time afterward. My disastrous blind date with the chicken wing guy is enough evidence of that.

I thought my date with the super sexist, super arrogant and super cheap all wrapped up in one Mr. Chicken Wing was a funny story until I heard this story on the radio this week. [I am going to post about the chicken wing guy tomorrow so that this reference makes sense]

A couple seeing that their two single friends might make a cute couple to double date with (typical), decided to hook them up. The husband, wanting his friend to score big points, gave Mr. First Date a few tips about Miss First Date because she was his wife’s friend. She is an earthy girl and she likes hippie things he said. So Mr. First Date thought long and hard and came up with the brilliant idea to take her to the Rietvlei Nature Reserve for a picnic. Mr. First Date for the win! It was a stunning choice and she loved it. It was far from the hustle and bustle of Johannesburg and everything else in fact. It is just a wide expanse of nature in all her glory.

He took her to a lovely, quiet secluded area and the beautiful picnic for two was underway. The conversation was flowing. She was laughing. He was secretly patting himself on the back. There was chemistry. It was the perfect first date.

What he didn’t count on, however, was the chemistry in his stomach. Something in the picnic hamper did not agree with him and suddenly Mr. First Date had to face a number 2. Not just any Number 2, but a Number 2 that would not wait. You know the one where you stand up and you can feel it coming with unforgiving force? He barely made it to a tree 20m away and had to let rip.

In that quiet, beautiful nature reserve every sound was amplified and echoed a thousand times.

Miss First Date, being an all-round awesome earthy woman, was quite understanding and tried to be helpful. Do you need help? She called. Shall I get the car? Are you ok? Amidst what could only be described as machine gun sounds, Mr. First Date gasped out no thank you. Please don’t come anywhere near here. I’ve got this he said. So she sat quietly on the blanket and waited.

Eventually, Mr. First Date staggered out from behind the tree but due to the unstoppable nature of the Number 2 train, he had to wear the picnic blanket into the car and while he drove her home. I just can’t imagine how mortified he was.

As you can imagine, now Mr. First Date does not ever want to see or hear of Miss First Date again. He would like to forget all about that particular first date and about her. On the contrary, Miss First Date is of the comfortable opinion that it could happen to anyone and is keen to see him again. The married couple who had the bright spark idea to hook them up in the first place is now firmly stuck in the middle.

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