double-dogged dared.

never one to back down from Truth or Date, i mean Dare, i present a challenge from Elle.
this could go down in the Annuals of Horrid Dates...it did, however, get published in the Long Beach Press Telegram.

imagine this: in the late 80s, early 90s, i couldn't get a date if my life depended on it. living in L.A., where everyone is blonde, skinny with fake boobs, a Rubenesque, real boobed dark haired chickie doesn't have a chance.

but someone did give me an opportunity for a blind date. and a killer story.

i got introduced to this guy from friends of friends. "he's a musician," they said, "and you're a musician." (OK, i was in choir all throughout school. i took piano lessons.) "you have lots in common."

riiiiiiiiiight.

so i called him. he sounded kinda groovy. like, right out of the 60's-Monterey Pop Festival-don't trust anyone over 30 groovy. we decided to go to the movies.

not my first choice for a first date. i'd rather do coffee, dinner or something where you could talk. oh well. he asked if i could pick him up, his car was in the shop.

niiiiice. this way if things go wrong, i have an escape plan.

i drive to his house, a duplex, with his in the back. i walk up the driveway to his place and hear music. guitar. sounds good.

it's my date. he's on the roof of his house. he has no shirt.

he makes some comment like "oh, you must be Valerie..cool...let me put on a shirt and we can go," and gets off the roof.

he came shoulder high on me. he's as skinny as a poster child for famine relief. he has long, long blond hair and John Lennon glasses. he is the 60's.

after he got his shirt on, and we got in my car, he informed me he had chosen "The Long Walk Home" (check it out on imdb.com). i have to admit, i was a little perturbed that i wasn't given any input into the movie, but whatev.

at the theater, we get to the box office, and he orders two tickets. i think the afternoon might just get better. then he turns to me.

"OK - that's $11 for the tickets, so your share is $5.50."

did i know i was sharing? that it was a dutch date? that this was doomed from the beginning?

"i only have a $20," i hear myself say. " i gotta break it before."

thoroughly ticked now, i go to the snack bar and get a diet coke, popcorn and milk duds. handing him $6, he hands me back a dollar...much in the same way the warden hands a commute for a death sentence - like this is the biggest thing you can ever do for a person.

"just keep the dollar for gas," he says.

oh yeah. that's class, ladies and gents.

i thought about leaving, the movie was boring as hell, but said no. momma raised me to do the right thing, and that wouldn't be right.

but it would've been soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo much fun.