So I'd been partying all over the place, in a couple of different states, actually, and I'd been awake for two days straight, at the time.
And I was still wasted but I was finally starting to get a little worn out, y'know.
And this girl that I sorta know, a little, a girl that's just sorta familiar, y'know, comes up to me, in a restaurant, and she's all sweet and friendly, and she asks me if I want to come with her.
So I say sure.
And she takes me to her church.
Yah, in the afternoon or something.
And so I sit there, squirming in my seat next to her family, who seemed nice enough that I can't actually remember a single thing about 'em.
Trying to act human while listening to her preacher scream and yell about how There Are Those Among Us who are Wolves in Sheep's Clothing for an eternity or two, and the guy is staring at me the whole time, 'cause I'm the only guy in the audience he don't know, and I'm trying to read him, y'know, to see what kinda guy he is, and he don't seem to like that.
And I honestly almost had one of those episodes you hear about where people writhe uncontrollably on the floor in holy rapture or something, my body was sorta trembling, y'know, kinda like it does when your motor get loose from the moorings and you know you are gonna have to fight, some kinda preparation for a flight or fight response combined with sleep deprivation and the number of drugs in my system or something, I dunno, it was really unsettling and creepy.
But I managed to keep an iron grip on my pew and hold my fake smile in place, and even though I was dripping with sweat from the effort, it didn't seem like anybody noticed all the weird shit going on underneath the surface, y'know?
And then afterwards they take me to this room where there's this kool-aid and pastry thing, where everybody eats and socilaizes.
And everybody is a goody-two-shoes church nut, and they're friendly enough, y'know, fresh out of the Brotherly Love Machine, but I ain't got anything to say to folks like that, really, aside from polite nods and shit, 'cause I ain't got anything to gain from folks like that who avoid and villainize worldy experience because it messes with their fantasy, y'know, so I'm basically standing by myself for a bit.
And the preacher's little brother comes up to me first, and he's this unhealthy looking, twitchy little guy, and he starts spilling the beans about he used to be a sinner before he found Jesus, and he's listing out all his sins to me, 'bought how he paid for prostitutes and whatever, and it seemed to me that he was saved from his sins by his ability to just remember 'em and enjoy the nostalgia of 'em more than anything Jesus mighta done fer him heh.
And the guy likes me, 'cause he can tell I understand him, or something.
And then his brother the preacher comes over, and he's got charisma, kinda looked like Stephen King, but more oily and smooth, y'know, with the Big Wolfish Grin.
But I'll never forget the first thing that came out of his mouth, and the way him and his brother laughed afterwards.
"Well, I really blew my load on that sermon!"
Well, I don't really remember if he called it a sermon or not, it was just the "blew my load" metaphor part that mattered.
But I still didn't say anything, and apparently my rubbery out-of-control clown face didn't give away how disgusted and creeped out I was feeling inside, for once, 'cause these guys just kept right on going, exposing themselves to me as charlatans and carnies who had been working the crowd in this room for years, and they were probably over-doing it a bit, in an effort to make friends with me, y'know, because of whatever kinda fell and evil shit they imagined I was all about when they looked at me, and because they didn't have anybody they could be honest with 'cept each other, I guess.
Oh, I din't rat 'em out or expose their true nature to anybody else or anything, I mean, that wasn't the first time I was backstage at a church, y'know, and I'd already Done the Right Thing and gotten in fights over that kinda stuff before, and I knew how all that would go, and I just ain't one of those guys that feel like they gotta try to fix everything that's fucked up on this planet and be a Fake Good Guy All the Time who does a lot of bad shit himself but then turns around and defends the Good Folks as if that's gonna get me Points in Heaven or some shit, so I just kept it polite and got that chick and her family to get me out of there heh.
Anyways that was definitely one of the worst dates I ever been on ahaha.
Another one started out really great, I was young, sixteen or seventeen, tops, I was all dressed up like some girly Poison hair-band guy from the 80s, y'know, and these three hot chicks (that were all older than me and always fighting over me) took me to a party, at the house of one of their cousins.
But what they failed to mention was that their cousin was the leader of the Latin Kings (its a gang), and that the party was a Going Away Party for him, 'cause he was going to prison for that Law that says you gotta go to prison if you tell somebody to kill somebody else and they actually do it.
And the three chicks that brought me there were the only females in the entire house, everything else in the place was a middle-aged muscleman guy covered in tattoos.
And I was sure I was gonna get killed that time, either for trying to protect the girls, or for being a skinny little Aerosmith looking kid.
But then I noticed the Boss was playing Nintendo on his last night of Freedom.
And everybody in the place worked construction (which I had done for a long time).
And I ended up making buddies with everybody after I passed a few of those macho stand-off moments where it coulda gone either way heh.
But that was definitely another one of the worst dates I ever been on, I was just really lucky those guys were pretty cool, y'know, the first thing I thought when I walked in there was "oh shit, these chicks are trying to get me killed, and they're pros, Hannibal the Cannibal Powers Don't Fail Me Now!" ahaha.
And then there's the one where this super sweet chick that I really liked took me to meet her best friend and her best friend's husband.
And he was really a pretty interesting and likeable guy, y'know, he was a professional Chef who had travelled around the world and had some success, and he had done the food stuff on a Rolling Stones tour.
But he was also a self-proclaimed Satanist who believed that magic spells and shit actually worked, and he'd just lost a pal of his to AIDs, so he wanted us all to help him summon this dead guy's spirit.
Which didn't work, even though we spent an hour staring into a mirror and waiting all awkward and uncomfortable, y'know, 'cause I was just playing along to humor the crazy people and keep them from getting excited and I didn't really believe in the power of darkness or whatever heh.
And then him and his wife told me about how they were working on this plan to possess the bodies of other people so they could live forever, y'know, pretty standard stuff, but I started thinking that maybe it wasn't a good idea to hang around these folks too much, y'know, I mean, it'd be one thing if you could just steal my body, but its even worse if you didn't really know what you were doing and you sorta messed it up and only half-stole it or something ahaha.
Yah, so, I dunno which one those was the worst date I ever had, and there's other ones I'm probably forgetting that were just as bad in other, less memorable ways, giving all the crap I done, but it goes to show that Real Life can be even more fucked up than the shit they show on TV and the junk that I usually write about heh.
Plus, these stories might be helpful to you if you are some kind of crazy chick trying to put a guy through a ringer or something, y'know, 'cause it shows you what kinda shoes you gotta fill and it might help you refine your process and stuff ahaha.