Creepy Stories

Dating Game

I had been single for a while, and I was sick and tired of it. Being 32 and single is no laughing matter; the traumatic experiences of watching your friends get married, have children, and attain the American dream are akin to the hopeless depression of the schizophrenic mental patient. I wanted a wife, I wanted kids, I wanted a steady job. I was tired of working at Burger King and living alone in a studio apartment, and I was almost certain I memorized ninety percent of pornstars on the internet by name. Disgusted by the company of my left hand, I decided to go out to one of those speed dating events.

I picked out my best garb and walked out the door. Keep in mind, I worked at burger king, so the best clothes I could afford were some mediocre dress shirts and tattered khaki pants I bought at WalMart during a clearance event. I walked into the event, trying to display the shred of confidence I had left. I was instantly discouraged when I saw all the other competing males and their Armani suits, high class whiskey in hand, and auras reeking of nothing but pure self esteem and conceit. The ladies there were dressed in fine dresses, some of them quite low cut, and smelled like a flower garden designed by Martha Stuart herself. There were some serious lookers in there, and I swear my pants shrunk a couple sizes at the sight of some of these dresses.

The speed dating started. The first girl I sat down with was quite young; a 22 year old mother of three. She had made a lot of mistakes in her life, and seemed far more than I could handle. Right off the bat she told me about how she was four days sober from methamphetamine and was looking to settle down with a nice man who didn't look like a walrus. I spent the next four minutes making general small talk, quite literally fearing for my life. Once that buzzer sounded, I rocketed out of my chair with the speed of a gazelle. The young woman seemed offended. But, honestly, what did she expect?

The next woman was way too old for me. I had thought that these events were age regulated and had different meetings for people in different stages of life. I'm no pervert, but the whole idea of taking her shirt off and seeing two runny eggs nailed to the wall did not appease me. My decision was finalized as soon as she brought up her grandkids; I can hardly handle one generation of young ones, much less two. I actually asked her if she needed help getting out of her chair after the buzzer sounded... Again, another dark look. I was batting 0 for 2, but such pitches were ones that I would gladly let the catcher have.

The next woman seemed much more appealing. She was 26 and studying to be a nurse at a local hospital. She loved kids but had none of her own, which was a relief to me. She seemed well kept and stable, and wasn't a bad looker either. No lie, my eyes did wander a bit south a couple times during the meeting. She either didn't notice or didn't care, as she never pointed it out. I asked her if she'd like my number as the session ended, and she consented. I flipped open my phone and entered her number as she read it out. Smiling at her and thanking her for her listening ear (no wonder I had been single for so long...) , I got up to the next table. While doing so, I closed my phone by accident and realized that I never saved her number, so it was lost forever. For the love of... 0 for 3.

The next table was empty. What a joke. If I wanted to sit and stare at a wall, I would have stayed home. Nothing really to say here. Moving on.

This is where the story begins getting dark. The woman I met at the next table was the most interesting of all, but not in a bad way. She had long, flowing dark hair and green eyes. She had this cute smile and man, what a tight body on this one. Black dress, black shoes, black everything. For someone dressed in such a gothic manner, she had such a bubbly personality. Everything I said made her giggle, and I felt like a king just talking to this girl.

She was 27 and currently unemployed. She was married to a husband before, but he had left her after their two children died of leukemia. She told me that the cancer was entwined with her lineage, dating back as far as the eighteenth century; therefore, in numerous fits of emotional rage, her ex husband blamed her for giving the children cancer and left. Too pained by the loss of her entire family, she moved to the city a few weeks ago and was living on unemployment, unable to continue working at her job due to the crippling depression and panic she suffered as a result of her abandonment.