A Date Worse Than Death

Katie Cat and I were talking about what constitutes a date last night and we concluded that for a date to be a date, you cannot have kissed / slept with the other person. Therefore, I have never been on a date.

Once, my friend, Pee Wee, was planning a date (with our very own Katie Cat nonetheless). He wanted to take her tubing which is apparently hurtling down a dry ski slope in a rubber ring. I think most girls would balk at the prospect of this on a first date. Some girls (myself and Katie Cat included) would balk at this on the fifth, fifteenth and fiftieth dates. I told him to forget such a ludicrous idea and take her for a drink instead. He accused me of having no imagination. In the end, the date didn’t occur alas. Something Katie Cat has been eternally grateful for.

My mate, JS, is a renowned lady’s man and always has funny date stories to share. His latest involves him taking a girl to the cinema (surely the worse venue for a first date ever) to watch Final Destination 5 (’nuff said). The date went something like this;

HER: (whispering) JS. JS. What’s your favourite colour?

JS: (thinking that he probably hasn’t been asked this question since he was 8 years old) I dunno. Blue?


HER: (whispering) JS. JS. Do you like dogs?

JS: (getting annoyed) Err…yes…


Odd behaviour, I’m sure you’ll agree. JS slowly found himself going off the girl. The clincher came though with her final question of the night:

HER: JS. JS? Have you ever eaten a raw, pickled herring?

JS: No. Why? Have you?

HER: No.



When I asked him how he left things, he told me that the girl tried to kiss him, he swerved and she ended up nuzzling his shoulder instead.


This entry was posted in Comrades, Criiiiiiiiiinge, Love 'n' Stuff. Bookmark the permalink.

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