Alicia Ann Smith
English Comp 0810
Friday, October 17, 2014
Men are clueless creatures when it comes to planning and carrying out a good first date. It seems that some have no idea how to act, what to do, where to go, or what to wear on a date. I am not speculating about this by any means; it is something I have learned from personal experience. I have had my fair share of bad dates, really bad dates, and even horrible disastrous dates. However, when thinking back there is one in particular that stands out among all the rest. This one lives in infamy as the most disastrous date I have ever experienced in my thirty five years of life.
My date, we will call him Jared, to protect the not-so-innocent, arrived forty five minutes late to pick me up. He was wearing dirty blue jeans and a concert T-shirt that had holes in it everywhere and was decorated with sweat rings under the armpits. I, on the other hand, was wearing a flowing blue and yellow summer dress with light brown strappy, wedge heels. When I asked him where we were going on our date, he replied, “Oh, you really want to go somewhere?" at this point, I probably should have sent the boy packing, but I replied somewhat sarcastically, “yes, that would be nice." I was thinking dinner, maybe a movie, what I got was a drive around our ridiculously boring town which culminated in spending an hour at a deserted playground, where he wanted to make out. When, he continued to push himself on me after repeatedly being told nicely to back off, I had no other choice but to tell him to take me home. I was honestly ready for this date to come to an end.
On our way back to my house, he began yelling at me and calling me all sorts of ugly names. He told me I was nothing more than a tease; I did not even care what he thought of me by then though considering how badly he was treating me. Casually, I glanced up at the road, wishing to see curves, fields, and woods, the familiar sights I associate...
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