So my post about my first date coupled with Pserendipity’s post about dating expectations really got me to reminiscing over my
tawdry dating past. I have dated some capital L Losers! I’m so glad those dudes are not Mr. Nerd Girl I don’t know what to do. Thank God for Smoochy!
I was never a serial dater. Usually, if we went out? We ended up going out. I guess because I did all of my dating in college, who knows? Anyhow, my freshman year I dated this dude named Foots. Well, that was his last name. But it tickled me, so that’s what I called him. Yep, I’ve always been silly.
Foots was the cousin of my cousin’s boyfriend. See how that worked? Foots did not go to school on the yard. Foots didn’t go to school anywhere. Foots was a mechanic. No, no, not a mechanical engineer. Not an aviation mechanic. A straight up I- can-fix-your-carbureator mechanic. Oh yeah, I was a genius – well worth the tuition money my parents spent. We met at some picnic my cousin dragged me to. And we ended up going out to dinner. And then dating for the next four or five months. My Mama met Foots at Homecoming. She was not impressed. At all. But, everybody was dating somebody and I was not going to be left out. Besides Foots had a car, made good money and was always willing to take me out. So all was well in my little world. Until I realized I really didn’t like Foots. He was just something to keep me occupied.
So I decided to break up with Foots. One day he came to pick me up and I was like, “yeah, I don’t like you and don’t want to see you anymore.” Have I mentioned I’ve never been real smooth? Pretty much always straight to the point. He then proceeded to tell me in no uncertain terms that he was gonna whip my ass. Um, no. So I told him that wouldn’t be happening and I picked up a pipe that just so happened to be laying nearby (thank you Jesus!) and started swinging. I didn’t hit him, he didn’t hit me. A few days later he apologized and asked if we could get back together. Sir. Put down the crack you have got to be smoking. Hell no.
He called me a few more times and then decided that moving on from all of this goodness that is Nerd Girl was in his best interest. But not before he “stole” my car. While we were dating, my ’78 Honda Accord needed some minor repairs and since we were dating, and he was a mechanic, he fixed my ride. I offered to pay and he was like “nah.” You don’t have to tell me twice. But after the breakup he apparently changed his mind. I went outside one morning and my car was gone. Gone y’all. I was so shocked I didn’t know what to do. So I went inside and told my roommate that my car was gone. She was able to confirm that it was indeed no longer in the driveway. About 10 minutes after we finished our brilliant detective work, my phone rang. Oh yeah, it was Foots. “Missing something?’ “Where is my car?” “Until you pay me, I’m not bringing it back.” Seriously? This joker took my car hostage?
So I called his Mama. And my car was back in driveway in less than an hour. Mama Foots always did like me 🙂
My car was back, I was free to roam around the Bluff and date my next
victim boyfriend. You know, the one I met when I skated into him at the skating rink. But I guess that’s a whole ‘nother story for another day!
Foots will always be #1 on my “worst dude I ever dated” list. Who’s #1 on yours???