My Very Worst Date: Just Ridiculous (Part I)

by Rachel on July 29, 2010

Remember back in December when I got drunk and poked a guy on Facebook? And then started hooking up in hotel rooms?

Well, this was my first outing with that guy.

I was going to a bar with some of my friends in Royal Oak and he was going to come to the bar with some of his friends. I was leaving for Chicago the next morning for my friend Lauren’s Christmas party, so the plan was: go get drunk, spend the night in Royal Oak, get up early the next morning, drop my friend Tracy off at her house in Northville, and then drive to Ann Arbor where I’d get on the bus to Chicago at 8 AM.

I know it seems like a crazy plan, but I was pretty sure I could pull it all off, and my friends really wanted me to come out…and I really wanted to hang out with this guy.

Before the bar, I went to my friend’s for some major pre-gaming. I hadn’t been drinking a lot lately, plus I had dropped weight, so I got good and tipsy. On the way to the bar, I was saying to my friend Tracy that I hope we didn’t run into anyone from college. I knew she knew what I meant — I was hoping I didn’t run into my former roommate from Sigma Kappa who I hadn’t spoken to since we had some dramz the year before. For the sake of this story, we’ll just call her Smash. The dramz was that she had taken my first and only Five on the SK hayride date party the year after I graduated (they were a year younger). That was annoying enough, but the fact that she had had sex with him in the cornfield just sort of took things to a whole new level. When I found out, I sent her a pretty brutal text message and things got ugly. That’s what happens when you start tossing around words like “worthless” and “whore” and a whole group of girls is involved. I hadn’t seen her since then, but I knew we were in her neighb so it could happen. Shouldn’t happen. But could.

I also said at this point, “Even if I really want to, I can’t go home with this guy, because I have to get on the bus the next morning and so that would be impossible. Great. Not even a question then.” There’s no “Hmm, should I?” about it. No. I just simply could not.

So I got to the bar and the guy was there and he was so cute, so I went to say hi and then said I was going to go check my coat and grab a drink and would be right back. I was standing at the bar with Tracy, just chatting, and we turned around to find Smash standing right behind us. She was standing with another girl from my house who had been a really good friend of mine until the date party incident, after which she sort of joined the dark side and became BFFs with Smash.

I think all four of us girls had one thought: FML.

“Avoid drama” instinct kicked in and the girl I used to be friends with started chatting with me while Smash started chatting with Tracy. After talking to her for a few minutes, I said “OK, well I’m here with a guy so I want to get back to him before too long…” and we said our good-byes. I felt kind of weird being gone for too long and I’d really much rather talk to someone I want to bang than someone who betrayed me. I was on my way back to him when there was a tap on my shoulder…and it was Smash. And she wanted to “talk.”

In a bar.

I should also say that it’s not the first time she’s gotten drunk and confronted me in this sort of setting…about this very same guy. This wasn’t the first time she’d been involved with him, but it was the first time after she and I had become friends and roommates. Since she lived with me the semester I was in a constant hungover-drunk-why-eat-my-feelings-I-need-to-be-skinny-for-him cycle, I sort of expected she just knew going forward, she probably shouldn’t try to bang him. And not just for my sake, but for hers too — he had clearly shown what kind of guy he was.

Anyway, she just started talking. She started by saying how she thought it sucked that we were no longer friends and because of a guy…and then she started to defend her actions on the date party, saying that basically, she saw him first. I was just standing there not saying a word because I honestly didn’t know what to say.  I was thinking, “I hate you,” but I wasn’t sure if that was the appropriate response or not. I mean, I had said everything I had wanted to say in the “worthless whore” text a year prior; what else was there to talk about? I let her go on and on and finally couldn’t listen to her run her mouth so I said that I was there with a guy and that it wasn’t a good time to talk about it, and that maybe we should have this conversation another time. What I meant by that was, “Doing it in a bar is fine, but just not when I’m out with a new guy, because I’d love to hit you in the face, and I don’t want this guy to think less of me. Or we can just never talk again and I won’t be sad because you’re a terrible person..”

She got really excited by this prospect and got really excited and got out her phone to get my number and I was just thinking, “How can you think I seriously want to talk about this?” but I gave her my number and went back to the guy.

So I got back to him and I said, “Uh, sorry that was the most ridiculously long time away ever.” I didn’t want to tell him what happened because I didn’t want him to think I bring the drama, but I give him the long-story-short version of the girl and the incident and he started referring to Smash as “The Cornfield Fucker.”

So I fell in love.

I wish that after that, things settled down, but oh…they did not.

To be continued…

{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }

1 Robyn July 29, 2010 at 11:24 am

Wow! I love his nickname for Smash . . . LOL. My good friend (we’ll call her Britney -as in Spears – because she is prone to making some serious crazy and linking up with serious douchebags) is dating a guy who . . . (how do I say this nicely . . . nope . . . can’t) is such a major DB, most of our friends have started referring to him as El Douche` (doo-shay) behind his back and when she’s not there. We’ll have to come up with something more colorful, though. The Cornfield Fucker is pretty brilliant.


2 Lo July 29, 2010 at 11:43 am

I seriously LOVE reading these stories and knowing exactly who you are talking about in all of them, HA!! That cornfield saw more action that the average frat basement…(I am convinced Uncle John was a creep… a brilliant creep, but a creep none-the-less).


3 Rachel Marlena July 29, 2010 at 12:06 pm

“To be continued…” is that a joke!? I was just thinking “Oooh this is about to get exciting” when it stopped. SIGH…guess I’ll just have to come back tomorrow.


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