The Time I Went on a Father and Son Date
By katiebabs on January 09, 2009
When I had posted my initiatives for 2009, I mentioned how I would begin dating more and how those men dare not bring either one of their parents on our date. No, this is not an urban legend or a joke, because it really did happen to me. It was one of the most humiliating experiences of my life that I have to look back upon and laugh because it is one of those true WTF moments. And we all have them.
I now give you the humiliating dating adventures of Katiebabs!
The title of this story of dating woe will be called: Blaming the Beer Goggles
The father and son date, as I now call it, happened a few years ago the weekend before Christmas. I had gone out with some friends who also invited some of their friends to go bar hopping with us in New York City. I really hit it off with one of the guys, who I shall call Beer. I was very attractive to him and he seemed to enjoy my company also. So after a night of fun and much drinking on my part, we exchanged phone numbers.
(A word of warning to all young women who are drinking: There is a thing called beer goggles. Beer goggles are those things that cover the eyes after one too many drinks. This is where you think a man becomes pretty good looking as the night goes on. Guys probably go through this also after a few too many drinks and begin to hit on girls they normally wouldn’t.)
Beer and I exchanged phone calls during the week. These were pretty intense calls, not your usual chats but a bit graphic in nature from Beer on his end. Even though I was a bit uncomfortable by, shall we say his appreciation, I still decided to give him a chance and we planned for Sunday to be the day of our big date. The plan was to go to the movies and then out for dinner. He also mentioned, and pay close attention to this tidbit of information, that the movie theater we would be going to is the same one his father went to every Sunday. It seemed his father was a big fan of the movies and liked to see one every weekend. I thought that was pretty cool. I didn’t realize at the time what he really meant by his father going to the same movie theater as us.
Sunday rolls around and I dressed appropriately for the occasion. Beer was to come at my house by 1pm. He called saying he was running a little late because he had a very late night. It seems Beer went club hopping the night before.
O_O I let that pass.
Almost an hour later, Beer arrives at my house. I am dressed in a nice top and pants, because as I said before, I was dressing to impress. Beer was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt.
O_O He decided to go for very casual. Again, I let that pass.
We get into his car and he proceeds to tell me how he hadn’t eaten yet. Now I remember specifically that we were not going out for lunch, but dinner. But hey, I went with the flow. We stop at a restaurant where he has a full meal, while I had a simple soda, because I made sure I ate.
After the meal, which he paid for his own and my lovely $2 soda, we drive around for awhile. The conversation during the whole car ride was about his ex-girl friend and/or ex-fiancé, and how she drove him crazy and how he spent so much money on her engagement ring and how jewelry for a woman is overrated, etc, etc…
O_O I was a bit uncomfortable. But since I wasn’t driving and was an understanding person I let him go on and on about his ex-whatever.
Before we would go to the showing of Lord of the Rings, I think it was the second movie, which was over 3 hours long, he had to stop at his father’s house. I sat in the car for over 20 minutes as he went to see his father for some unknown reason. Beer finally came back and off we went to the theater. He mentioned how his father was driving behind us. We get to the theater in the middle of some town I have never been to. I have no clue where I am. As we are walking to the theater, Beer sees his father and calls out to his father, and I quote:
“Dad, can you loan me some money because I don’t have enough for the movie."
O_O O_O O_O
I am really not amused. He had $20 for his lunch but didn’t bring enough for his movie ticket let alone mine. See, he spent all his money at the club he went to the night before and didn’t get home till after 4am that morning.
Trying not to freak out I remained calm. Along with Beer and his father we waited on line for our tickets. Since it was a matinee, we only had to pay $5. Beer’s father paid for his ticket and his son’s, while I paid for my own. Beer decided he was hungry again and wanted a snack from the snack bar. And since I am such a nice person, I told Beer, because he bought me a $2 soda during his $20 lunch, I would buy him one also. The next thing I know, Beer calls over his father to see if he wants anything from the snack bar. Beer and his father end up getting sodas and popcorn.
AND GUESS WHO PAYS FOR IT ALL???? ME!!!
Either this was some sort of cosmic joke or I did something very horrible in my past life! But since I was stranded and I paid for the movie, I was staying to see the movie. All three us enter where the movie will be playing. The theater was quite packed. I noticed two seats near the back and tell Beer we should sit there. Guess what the dumbass says to me?
“But what about my dad?”
**Insert internal cry of rage here**
Can you guess what happened next? All three of us sit two rows away from the screen. It is me, Beer and good old day watching a 3 hour movie together!!!!!!!
I was waiting for Ashton Kutcher to pop out and say I have been punk’d. He never did. I sat there for over 3 hours with the father and son as they munched on their popcorn and soda while I felt so humiliated.
When the movie ended, Beer and his father parted ways and Beer decided to drive me home because it was getting late, and of course he didn’t have enough money to do anything else. Beer also tried to get friendly on the way home, which I began to cough in earnest blaming a cold I was trying to get over. There was no way in hell after the day I had that he was sticking his tongue down my throat.
I was dropped off at home before 7pm, hungry and very angry. The next day my sister calls me from Washington, where she lived for awhile, to ask how my date went. I told her and by the end of the day I had calls from people I didn’t know asking me if they could tell the tale of the father and son date.
If someone you know has a story about a poor girl who was the victim of the father and son date from hell, you can say you know who she is. And she survived to tell the tale.
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