I know, I know. You can't believe I've ever had a bad date. Me either. I blame the boys. (It's easier than taking any responsibility.)
Date: Winter, 1991
Place: Some dance @ GRCHS
Date's Name: Let's call this one George
I am now a senior and still haven't learned my lesson NOT to date anyone outside of my class. I am dating a sophomore. (He was super cute as I remember. And mature for his age. Kinda sorta.) So there is some winter dance in the gym and my date decides to plan out where we will be eating dinner before we head over to the dance. (1st mistake.) Did I mention I was a senior? And all of my friends were going downtown to swanky restaurants and that part of the fun is telling everyone where you went to eat?
We went to Fuddruckers. (2nd mistake.) I kid you not. George told me he loved their hamburgers. I offered to help pay if that would help change the dinner destination. We waited in line for our food, picked it up at the counter, and sat down. Across the restaurant I saw my religion teacher. Dear Lord, shoot me now.
George was dressed quite nicely. He had on a wool sweater and khaki pants. About half way through the dance his neck looked all red and prickly and I asked him why he didn't where an undershirt. (3rd mistake.) Hello George, it's wool!
All in all, it was fun dance. I lied and told my friends we went to Cheddar's and I think George's skin recovered fairly quickly. Our break up was imminent.