Apparently I’m all hardcore n’ shit, as I’m only one of a handful of ya yas dumb enough to drive through a hurricane to get to work this morning. And guess what? Because common sense indicates I should be home, well that’s where my boss sent me! Wilma, you’re such a saucy minx. Thanks for giving me the day off!
So today, instead of workin’ for the man, I get to do what I *really* want to do, which is write about my Worst. Date. Ever. (which by the way looks like a freaking tea party compared to what Happy Heathen has endured, but I digress.)
Wakahage
In Japan there is a term, “wakahage”, which literally translated means “young bald.” For purposes of today’s story, that’s what we’ll call my date, Wakahage.
Wakahage was 18 and had all the style and stature of Mr. Magoo. In all honestly, I was entirely repulsed by this squishy-faced shorty, but I was a sophomore, and a school dance junkie, and I needed a senior prom fix real bad.
Ambiguously Gay
When he showed up at my house 30 minutes late, I was already in poor spirits. Having endured a 3-hour hair curling session and the fitting of a dress that was cutting off my blood circulation, I was in no mood for shenanigans. Imagine my delight, therefore, when Wakahage shows up with a chaperone! Said chaperone, Wakahage explains, is a friend who graduated from school a year earlier. Because Wakahage has no wheels, the Chaperone will be escorting us to our event this eve.
And because it must’ve been rent-one-get-one at the tuxedo shop, both Wakahage and The Chaperone are wearing ridiculous white tuxedos with tails. The Chaperone is squeezed into a mint green cummerbund, while Wakahage is flashing the fuchsia.
So, we crush ourselves into the chaperonemobile – I’m sitting bitch, and the boys are cranking up the country. Wakahage serenades me. It seems that his secret ambition is to be a country superstar.
And I’m thinking, “Do cowboys wear pink?”
Masterbaiter
Wakahage informs me over dinner that he spends his summers fishing with his dad. Then the teeny, tiny man drinks waaay to many espressos, gets stupid, and starts saying things like “What do you call a lonely fisherman? A master baiter! Bwa ha ha.”
At this point I am convinced, Wakahage – social retard that he is – at masterbaiting, must be expert.
True Romance
We’re at the dance, and that lovers staple, Kiss From a Rose comes on. While we have fairly avoided each other all night, Wakahage is itching for a dance. He asks me to step out.
“Erm, well uh I don’t really like slow dancing,” I lie through my teeth.
Wakage, taking no prisoners, embraces me so I can see the glitter from the disco ball reflecting off the top of his bald head. “I met my ex-girlfriend while slow dancing,” he says.
“Oh… erm…” I say, trying to back his crotch off my leg.
“Hänni,” Wakahage says as he pulls me in and says, “You can’t forget the reason for slow dancing.”
And in my head I’m like (sarcastically) “What, romance?”
And he says, “You know, romance.”
… And then the chunks rise in my throat, and I excuse myself so I can go be romantic in the restroom.
Denouement
When Wakahage and The Chaperone left that night, it wasn’t with me. I had barricaded myself in the bathroom and didn’t come out until I saw the Liberace twins had made their o’hasty exit.
ROFLMAO!!!! Oh man, “chunks rise in my throat”.
I was trying to think of my worst date…but then I realized I’ve NEVER had a bad date. My suave and debonair charm combined with my dashing good looks have made even mediocre dates an event to cherish. That’s why I’m the Man About Town.
Bwahahahahaha!!!!!
What a riot! I actually snorted when I read the master baiter part. I am totally NOT a snorter!
Even still, at least your guy was in a tux. Fuschia cummerbund or not, it beats a cardigan any day!
He brought a chaperone. A CHAPERONE??
Mr. magoo, meet Uncle Fester. Go be friends.
Darling,
Next time you’re in a fix, you call your Aunt Sassy. We’ll make it all better over some organic martini’s and Jimmy Choo’s.
See you at the condo!
Kisses,
Aunt S
Man About Town – Is your real name Prince Charming?
Mrtl – Yep. Just like paper wraps the rock, an ugly-ass cardigan will beat out pink tuxedo to win Worst First Date Getup any day. I wonder if there’s anything worse than a cardigan… maybe a t-shirt that says “I eat pussy?” (Angelface actually owns one of these!)
Jana – Okay so I’ve been thinking about your Uncle Fester and My Mister Magoo. Both were prematurely balding and both were interested in music. I’m thinking we’ve pinpointed a type, a type that women should avoid. If the man reminds you of Moby, then for God’s sakes, stay the eff away!
Aunt Sassy – Organic martinis sound divine. I’ll bring the shaker!
I guess I should be happy that I was stood up to my Senior Prom (as was my mother…. my first daughter is doomed.)
I have had many bad dates. But never a chaperone… you win.
I disliked my prom date so much I pretty much snuck off and went to hang out with another girl I had a crush on all year. I got set up with the date and she and I were not good together. She had me annoyed halfway through the ride to prom. At least she had the good sense not to wear a cardigan.
Yeah, my “best friend” at the time, stole my prom date two weeks before prom, and she even said to me, “you don’t mind, do you?”
Right there with ya Erin. Hanni, you still get the (organic soy, no-gluton added, no sugar added, no chocolate added) cookie though!
Erin – OMG. I’ve heard of generational curses, but that’s ridiculous!
ScottyGee – Yes, thank God she left the cardigan at home. Now tell me this, did she tap dance to Gangster’s Paradise? I ask because Mr. Magoo did.
Dima – I take it boyfriend-stealer isn’t your best friend any longer. Hurray for organic cookies! I had a really, really good one at the AK state fair in September, and I still can’t stop raving about it.
Yeah, that was pretty much it with her. I can confortably say i have never had an organic cookie. That can change soon though. I’ve had organic fruit cereal bars though. Not too bad!
Dima – I will convert you soon enough! Next week you’ll be telling me you’re addicted to hol-grain brown rice wafers smothered with savory, raw almond butter. And I’ll celebrate your conversion by popping bifidophilus tablets and swigging chlorophyll-infused Evian.
Cheers!
OMG! How amazing, date and his chaperone show up in charming matching tuxes. LOL At least you got your crappiest date over when you were young.