[ SECRET POST #3035 ]

[case]

⌈ Secret Post #3035 ⌋

Warning: Some secrets are NOT worksafe and may contain SPOILERS.

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Notes:

Secrets Left to Post: 04 pages, 081 secrets from Secret Submission Post #434.
Secrets Not Posted: [ 0 - broken links ], [ 0 - not!secrets ], [ 0 - not!fandom ], [ 0 - too big ], [ 0 - repeat ].
Current Secret Submissions Post: here.
Suggestions, comments, and concerns should go here.

Comments

Re: Your worst dates

[(Anonymous)]

So, I was asked out by a guy I knew worked in our college's religious centre as an assistant, so I didn't think it was weird when he said to meet him there - I thought we'd move on someplace else when he was done with work. But no, he invites me in, because he has cooked dinner himself. Which would be awesome, except he got a family recipe from his mom, and has hence cooked enough food for about eight people. Situation: enormous table full of food between us, every wall has a religious icon of some kind STARING AT ME.

And I think, damn, the guy went to so much effort, I should really try and make this evening work, so I try and make a dent into the massive amount of food, but I'm not really very hungry and OMG SO MANY ICONS STARING and then he brings up everything you shouldn't bring up - that I was younger than him ("it's too bad I can't serve you wine"), previous recent medical procedures (I'm sympathetic, but that's a massive surgery scar and we're eating), and especially that apparently some other guy he knew had had "dibs" on me which was why he'd taken so long to ask me over, and just when I'm through explaining, "no, that's not okay, nobody gets to call dibs on people, that's for like the front seat of the car or something, did anybody involved think to freaking ASK ME?" he's all "it's late... let's move this to the couch".

Yeah. The couch. He thought that was an appropriate seguay from that conversation. I look over at the couch. Again, SO MANY ICONS staring a tthe couch. I look back at him. He's just blinking at me, like I'm some machine that's not working at the touch of a button. "... wouldn't you be more ... comfortable on the couch?" he tries again.

And that's where I finally decided being polite was simply not worth the effort against the flood of crazy and just said "I'm sorry, I'm tired - good night." and left him there.

He followed me to the door, and called "When I said it was late I didn't mean you had to leaaaaaave!" after me.

After a week of radio silence, we happened to meet on campus and he asked me to 'tell him if "this with us" is going anywhere, "because my doctor says I have about ten years and I want to get married and have kids before I die".