While I’ve had some crap dates in my time, I’m at least relieved to admit that none of them culminated in a fire-and-rescue scenario, nor did any of them involve actual crap.
Like many people worldwide, this week I thrilled to a sidesplitting GoFundMe campaign, innocently titled “Replacement window”.
The tale (told by a young person who wishes to remain anonymous but will surely soon find widespread internet fame like many who have gone before them) is of a decent date that went south very quickly.
It’s … oh, there’s no way to explain it, so over to them.
“About an hour into Louis Theroux and chill, my date got up to use the toilet. She returned with a panicked look in her eye, and told me she had something to tell me. ‘I went for a poo in your toilet”, she told me, ‘and it would not flush. I don’t know why I did this, but I panicked’, she continued ‘I reached into the toilet bowl, wrapped it in tissue paper, and threw it out of the window’.”
Alas, the window was double glazed, the poo became trapped between the two panes, the young lady’s efforts to retrieve the poo failed, she became trapped between the two panes, and soon enough Bristol fire department were removing the window (and the girl and, presumably, the poo) to the tune of £300.
The campaign has gone on to raise more than enough to fix the window and make some sizeable donations to charity. We may well discover that the whole thing has been some sort of viral campaign for Nandos (though I don’t know that they’d really want to associate themselves with either poos or dangerous double-glazing stunts).
If that’s the case, at least it gave the world one pure moment in time within which we could all reflect on the beautiful agony and uproarious tragicomedy of terrible dates.
For what brings friends and family together like shocking dates? Why, whole television shows, both fictional and “factual”, have been built around the notion. And this is because there’s something universal in the truly awful.
When someone tells you about a good date they had, well, it’s nice, but eventually your eyes start to glaze over a bit. A bad one, on the other hand, is the sort of bonding experience that could bring about world peace. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll wonder why you even bother … but afterwards, you’re glad of the future dinner-party-conversation fodder.
A bad date is, ultimately, a real gift.
So with all of the above in mind, here are some crowdfunding campaigns I wish I’d run, after bad dates I wish I hadn’t gone on.
“Someone More Appealing”, Goal: $45
To cover the cost of the drink, appetiser, second drink, and eventual dinner and dessert I ordered while waiting for my OkCupid date to show up. About 55 minutes after our agreed meeting time, he messaged me to say he wasn’t coming, because “someone more appealing” had messaged him on OkCupid that day.
“Hello Boobs”, Goal: $500
To pay for five sessions of hypnotherapy in order to forget the time my date yanked my jumper off, honked my norgs like they were bike horns, and declared, in a voice that wouldn’t have been out of place in a Carry On film, “Hello, boobs.”
“Air Freshener”, Goal: $10
I’d like to buy one of those groovy stoner candles with the changing-colour lights inside them, in part to relax and unwind, but mostly to mask the scent memory of an especially awkward date where my prospective paramour farted continuously (out of nerves or crook guts, who knows), then upbraided me for my plans to buy a Happy Meal on the way home and begged me to tell him I was, in fact, going to Lord Of The Fries because his conscience couldn’t rest knowing I was giving money to “that corporation”.
“Therapy”, Goal: $1500
To cover 10 sessions in order to process the time a dude suggested a threesome … dressed as cartoon worms.
“Lifetime Supply Of Hand Sanitiser”, Goal: $45,000, Stretch Goal: $60,000
I don’t know how much a lifetime supply of Purell costs, to be honest, but $45-60,000 feels like enough to cleanse the memory of the time a one-night stand commanded me to “spit on [his] dick”. This happened shortly after his housemate revealed he’d “accidentally” cooked a mouse that had become trapped in the oven; there was no food in the oven at the time.
Also there was red capsicum in the stir fry we had for dinner, so it was really just a bad time all around, come to think of it.
“Missing: Dolly Parton”, Goal: $19.95
Look, this date was actually great, but said date borrowed my Dolly Parton DVD and then moved to America, never to be seen or heard from again. I just really want the DVD back, man.