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?
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.