Flatulence and First Dates

The dating situation hasn’t improved.  I’ve decided to go back into my past and analyze my past behavior and see if a pattern develops.  Since they raised my insurance copay, and my stories put Dr. Stan on Prozac, I’m going to bare my soul to my loyal reader and let them help me solve my problems.

My first date is a good place to start.  I remember the thrill and excitement when Suzie said she’d go out with me.  I was so excited.  I spent hours washing and waxing the Pinto.  I went to Nygren’s Men’s Wear and bought a super cool Op shirt.  I spent hours with the curling iron making sure my hair had the proper amount of lift.  Before I left the house, I put on extra strength Clearasil and Hai Karate aftershave.  I was irresistible. 

I picked up my date.  I had an incredible evening planned.  We began at Big Cheese Pizza, where you could keep the cups and the Canadian bacon was extra spicy.  I knew she’d want a souvenir of her evening of romantic bliss.  After dinner we went to the twin theaters for a movie.  I picked the best first date ever:  Halloween.  After two hours of slashing, blood splatters and full frontal nudity, I knew she was in the mood.  Of course, she wanted to go home.

As I drove her to the house, I felt the pork products from the pizza starting to metabolize.  Things were about to get interesting.  But, I did a quick calculation and determined I could take her home, get my good night kiss, and jump in my car before the inevitable venting.

We arrived at her house and she told me her dad was home and she’d love for me to meet him.  I figured I could make it.  I went in the house and met her father.  He really liked to talk.  I mean, REALLY liked it.  He went on and on about something.  I nodded and perspired.  Methane was building pressure by the minute.  I didn’t think I was going to make it.  Finally, he excused himself and left.  Thank goodness.  One more minute and I was going to suffer internal injuries.

Suzie and I walked outside.  Once I reached the front steps I told her to wait one minute and I sprinted to the street.  I stood in the middle of Madison Street, with my hand up to keep her from coming any closer, and had my release.  She heard me and laughed.  After I was done, I went back and got my good night kiss and skulked into the night.

I wrote the situation off as bad luck.  I didn’t know it was the beginning of a trend.