This week we're talking dates. Bad dates. Dare we even say disaster dates? Collette Cameron wants us to share our stories, or if we've been blessed to only have had great dates in our lives, make one up. I wish I had to make one up. But nope. I've had my share of stinkers. But here's the worst.
In case this is your first time reading a blog post by me, there's something you should know. I live in Newfoundland, which is an island off the east coast of Canada. There's only a half a million people on this island even though we're about as big as California and we have some very remote villages with nothing around for hours other than equally small villages. Point is, you don't have a lot of options for date destinations.
So it's the early 90s. I'm 16 and a guy I'd had a crush on for years had asked if I wanted to go for a drive with him. He didn't call it a date. I don't think anyone used the word date in that community. But when a seventeen year old boy asks a girl to go for a drive, and there's no other friends coming along, that's a date.
I was so excited. I mean, I think I first dreamed of marrying him when I was eight. And finally, I was getting my chance. I had visions of him driving us to a spot overlooking the ocean. Maybe we'd listen to the radio. Maybe we'd kiss. Heck, maybe we'd even get out of the car and go for a romantic walk hand-in-hand in the moonlight, the sound of the water gently crashing along the rocks. Yea, I was a romantic even then.
When he turned off the highway onto a dirt road in the opposite direction of the water I wondered where we were going. And then I saw the sign. Provincial landfill site. More commonly known as the dump. Yes, friends. His idea of a great romantic evening out was parking at the local dump where we would, if we were lucky, get front row seats to the black bears feasting on the garbage.
I'd read plenty of Sweet Valley High and Harlequin books by then, and no where did the guy ever say "Hey baby, I've got a romantic night of bear watching planned for us up at the dump tonight."
Did we kiss? No. Did my years long crush float away on the stench-infused wind that blew over the dump that summer night? Hell yea. And did we see bears? Oh yes we did. Right until I demanded we leave when one looked like it was about to walk on top of the car.
Ah. Teen romance. Some guys just don't get it. Now let's hop over to the always wonderful Sarah Hegger who is sharing a disaster date from a work-in-progress.