Terrible Date Tuesday

We are going to start some thing new here at Diary of the lost and perplexed! I was really missing my 60 day It’s Called a Breakup Because It’s Broken challenge and thought I needed some thing new and exciting for you guy! We are calling it Terrible Date Tuesday! Sounds fun right! Every Tuesday I am going to write about a terrible date I’ve been on just for your reading enjoyment! Now…I haven’t been on that many terrible dates, a few, enough to get a start on this, but I am going to need your help! So ladies and gentlemen I want to hear about all your terrible dates. It doesn’t have to be a first date, maybe your boyfriend took you on a bad date and you think the world should know about it, although first dates hold a special place in my heart. You can e-mail them to me here diaryofthelost@gmail.com or you can take a stroll over to my facebook page HERE! Please put the subject line JUSTINE THIS IS MY TERRIBLE DATE! I will read them while drinking wine and laugh at your misfortune, just as you laugh at mine, asshole.  So please share and let’s make Terrible Date Tuesday the best thing on the internet and help me get on Ellen. Because I really just do this blog in hopes of becoming famous and getting to go on Ellen one day! On that note…Ladies and gentlemen…the first entry of Terrible Date Tuesday! Welcome to the date I call The Drug Dealer.

The drug dealer

There has never been a date worse than this one. Never and I’ve had some bad ones. He informed me that he couldn’t meet me at the restaurant because his car wouldn’t start but if I could please pick him up that would be great. So I did, shit happens right? Ya, when I got to his house there wasn’t a car there? Maybe your problem was that you didn’t have a car to start, I’m not rocket scientist but generally one needs a car to start a car. I should have drove away then but I didn’t. Oh Justine…life choices.

So we go to a restaurant that he worked at…that he told me he owned, but he didn’t. He worked in the kitchen he didn’t own it. This man must be very confused because again I am not a rocket scientist, but just because you are an employee does not make you an owner.

We ordered a drink, as in one for each of us, no more, no less  and the only words out of his mouth was I like your necklace it’s really pretty. Convenient, my necklace hung right in between my tits. I mean I strategically planned that but still. Twenty minutes later he asked if I could drive him home because he needed to run to his friend’s house quick but then we could come back. So being young and dumb and thinking he was hot I agree. We go into his house and he pulls out a duffle bag. A FUCKING DUFFLE BAG! Any guess what was in this bag? A lot of mary jane. A lot of it. Like you know in movies how some one has a duffle bag full of drugs and one has the brief case full of money, picture that…just not brief case or money. Did that make me leave? No my friends it didn’t…because I was a stupid fucking twenty year old.

He starts to tell me about his promising music career and if I would like to hear his CD. If a man with a duffle bag full of weed asks if you want to hear his CD the answer is always, I mean always yes. He puts it in and out comes the best rap about a ham and cheese sandwich I think I have ever heard. Have you ever loved a sandwich so much you were compelled to write a song about it? No? Me either, but I want to meet the man who made a sandwich that good and give him a high five! The next song, even better, pink lemonade, we are sippin’ on some sweet pink lemonade. Ah…good times. He must of wrote those after hanging around with his duffle bag.

 I asked for a copy and I got one. Life 0 Justine 1! I have a little token to remember this date always. Some people get taken to carnivals and the boy wins them a teddy bear, I get a duffle bag full of weed and a rap CD, thus is life.  

At this point he got up to go to the bathroom. I did what any completely insane 20 year old would do, I grabbed a zip lock bag from the table and put some of that weed in a bag and shoved it in my pocket. Ya, you read that right. I stole from a drug dealer. Not recommended but this point I needed some thing to do damage control on how bad this date had been. It was at this time that I hear *SNOOORRTTTTTTTTT* in the bathroom…ok maybe you just have a booger you have to suck up…but then it happens again…and again…and again. Ya that’s not a booger my friends…that’s a man riding the rails to happy land. Furthermore who snorts that loudly! Fucking weird man. Now I may not be above stealing some bud from a drug dealer, but I am definitely above that. I am getting the hell out of dodge. So I say “uuh my friend just texted me I have t go, sorry it was nice to meet you!” He comes out of the bathroom and asks if I can drive him to drop off some weed at his friend’s house. Seriously dude? We just met tonight…no. I am taking my free weed and getting the hell out of dodge. End of date. Sadly I never heard from that gem of a man again. But I did smoke that weed while listening to his CD. Best thing ever. Ah…where is that CD!?