#1: The Biggest Loser

I have to admit that I struggled with who to give the coveted Worst Date Ever award to. I've had so many winners...and by winners I totally mean losers. It wasn't all that the guys were losers. They weren't. Some of them were, in fact, very nice. We were just very not right for each other. Unfortunately, I've gone out on more dates that were bad than were good. I guess it would make sense though given that I am neither married or in a long term relationship. This is also not to say that I haven't gone on some amazingly wonderful dates. I have had my fair share, but it is always more fun to talk about the terrible ones in hide sight than the ones that made me go home and talk to my best friend and tell her how much I really liked the guy. This is also because I (to date) have not ended up with said guy, so I feel I have license to spill about the bad ones.

Anyway, as I was saying, I struggled to come up with Worst Date Ever. I really was leaning toward the date that ended with the guy telling me that I made him feel like a prostitute. Real fast, we had gone on several dates. I was never quite sure about him. I couldn't put my finger on it, but there was something not right. What I realized after....well, I made him feel like a prostitute and we didn't see each other again was that he was trying to sleep with me hard core on each of our dates. The irony of all of this is amazing. On our first date he drove me home and then said he might be too drunk to drive. I said that it was good I live in a neighborhood where it is really easy to get a cab. He then asked if I had a couch he could sleep on. I wasn't buying it. I responded, "not one you can sleep on." The second date we went to a show and went back to his apartment. He again gave the too drunk to drive excuse and said that I should just spend the night. No. I told him I was fine taking a cab. When he realized I wasn't budging, he agreed to take me home. On our third and final date we went out to dinner (it was BYOB and he brought a bottle of wine) and then went to a bar. He came up to my apartment and we did a little...adult stuff. Nothing crazy. It would just not be in a PG movie...or a PG-13 movie. I know it would make it into an R rated movie...they let anything go now a days. Anyway, midway through I started to realize I was very drunk and he needed to leave. I was not okay laying on the bathroom floor or resting my head against the toilet while he was there, so I told him he needed to leave. I apologized and said I really didn't feel good. Apparently my mistake was not throwing up in front of him to prove I didn't feel good. Despite another apology the next day and an explanation, he still said (and this is a direct quote), "for a second there, I kind of knew what it felt like to be a prostitute." Give me a break. Needless to say we didn't see each other again.

But no, he was not the Worst Date Ever. Close. But, he just gets an Honorable Mention. No, the Worst Date Ever happened on a little night called Election Night.

I have to make two disclaimers before I tell about this date:

1. If you are in anyway related to me, for both of our sake, stop reading and skip to the next post. This is information neither you nor me will be happy you know about. While I am not about to spread all my business up on the internet, it is still more than you need to know about me. I am still the sweet and innocent person you know me to be. Don't let this disclaimer cause you to think otherwise. I'm just saying. It is in our mutual best interest if you don't continue reading. And, I would like to be able to look you in the eyes (and vice versa) at future family functions. So, move ahead. You will thank me for the information you do not know.
   
2. This date perhaps was not the all time worst, but it goes on record for me as #1 because I will never be able to shake the memory of this date. It will haunt me. It will cause me to have to lie to my children. It is a moment in time I will never get to relive or experience. That's right...get ready.

We had been on a few dates at this point, but I have a habit of making dates on holidays. I don't even know how it happens. I guess since I don't have family that lives in town, I sort of skip over them in my mind. I end up making plans and then realizing it was a holiday. I've gone on dates on Easter, Father's Day, MLK Day, 4th of July (twice), Memorial Day, Labor Day, and Election Day.

I live in Chicago. I lived in Chicago during the 2008 Presidential Election. It was the most significant political moment of my lifetime. And, I was on a date. We went to dinner, but I had election fever and said I really wanted to get to a television to see the results as the polls came in. He obliged and we went to his apartment. His awesome apartment on like the 35th floor of a building with views of the Sear's Tower and the John Hancock Building. Just a few blocks away from Grant Park....where all the action was taking place.

When my children ask me where I was when the country elected our first African American President, what am I supposed to say? How do I tell them that I didn't really see it?

I will leave you with this very funny Saturday Night Live clip. Believe what you wish.