My Date From Hell
Few years ago, I was sitting in my local watering hole, when the bartender looked out the window and said "It's the nut lady". I figured he was describing any one of a dozen assorted female patrons, so I didn't pay much attention. He called her over to introduce us since we both were near the same age (over the hill). He said "Bob, this is Sara, she owns the peanut vending machine". Now I knew why she was called "The Nut Lady". I bought TNL a coke, and we sat and talked. She was telling me all about vending machines and how lucrative they were. She told me she had some machines in a casino town about 100 miles away. I asked her if she wanted to go out to dinner the next time she went to the Casino town, and she agreed.
The Date from Hell Begins
Since it was a business/ pleasure trip, we decided to take her car. As we are getting into the car, she threw me the keys and said for me to drive. I hold the door for her, go around and get behind the seat. I put the key in the ignition and give it a twist. The radio was turned up to ear blasting level. I instinctively went for the knob, only to get my hand slapped. "DON'T TOUCH MY RADIO, I WILL DO IT!" says TNL. The date went down hill from there. We were not in the car 5 minutes when she starts scratching her back (I'm being kind here) and she said "Have you ever had shingles, Bob?" To really be kind, she was nervous, and I'm sure the shingles attack was caused by the nervousness. However, we had 100 miles to get to our dinner date, and another 100 miles back. The poor lady talked 2 hours, continuously. The only break I got was when I asked her if she had some peanuts to snack on. Well, as we planned, she dropped me off at the casino while she serviced her machines (about an hour) and then came back. We played at the casino for a little while then went to dinner. Now for the trip back... All the way back it was scratch her back, talk, and ....scratch, continuously. I stopped and got a local newspaper, so there was silence for about 5 minutes, while she read, and .....scratched. I was tempted to turn up the radio, to drown out the incessant talking, but I already had black and blue marks from the last time I tried to adjust the radio. Now I call this the date from Hell, but in reality, it was a typical date for me. And thinking about it, she was a nice lady, just nervous.
Interesting post...
Ouch...I’ve had shingles and they aren’t pleasant by any stretch of the imagination. Do you remember what kind of music she had playing?? Or just what exactly (besides nervousness and shingles) lead her to talk at a constant rate for 2 hours straight??
That is an hysterical (and sad if true) story. My oh My.