Awkward Moments in Dating: The Bailout

(image via wikimedia)

Bailing out is an essential skill in dating.  You never want to say out loud that a date sucks (at least not during the date), but you need to be able to get out gracefully when there’s no hope for future compatibility.

Today, it’s easy.  You can fake an emergency phone call or text.  But back in 1991 (when this story takes place), you had to think on your feet and improvise.

A lot of guys wouldn’t have bailed out in this particular situation, and I kind of understand.  My date Jenny was wearing a t-shirt and shorts and had her bare legs on my lap while we pretended to watch television on her couch in her apartment.  It was pretty clear where things were going.

I was surprised that Jenny had put her legs on my lap because I really didn’t deserve her affection.  I hadn’t earned it (You can read more about it here) .  All I’d done was pay for dinner and drive her around a little bit.  If she was putting her legs on me after dinner and no movie, I wondered how frequently she put her legs up on other guys.

Plus, she was obsessed over Garth Brooks and seemed attached to her ex-boyfriend.  Yeah, she had great cleavage, but even so, these were warning signs I couldn’t overlook.

I knew I had to approach this diplomatically.  “Don’t get me wrong, but this seems kind of forward,” I said.

“I’m a woman of the 90’s,” she said.

“90’s?  It’s only 1991,” I said.  “Has ‘woman of the 90’s’ even been established yet?”

“I behaved differently in the 1980’s.”

I couldn’t ask if she behaved good differently or bad differently back in the 80’s, but I had an idea which one it was.

“So on January 1, 1990, you decided to behave differently.  That was your New Decade’s Resolution.”

She laughed because the way I said it was funnier than the way the words look on paper.

“Yes, I did,” she said.  “And what did you do on January 1, 1990?”

“I went to bed early on New Year’s Eve 1989, just so I could get up in time to watch football without a hangover.”

“No New Year’s Resolution?”

“Just to watch a lot of football.”

“I like a man with goals,” she said, and then she edged her legs close to me, lifting one so that it almost brushed against my face.

There was no good way to do this.

“This probably isn’t a good idea,” I said.  I scooted back on the couch a bit, giving myself some separation from her legs without touching them.

“Is anything wrong?” Jenny asked.  She withdrew her legs almost instantly and sat up.

“My coke habit,” I said, faking a long sniff.  When my nose had started running in the restaurant earlier, I’d made up a fake coke habit, which Jenny had understood as a joke.  The runny nose had been real and I was ticked off at the time, but suddenly I was relieved that it had given me a way to bail out.   “I can’t believe it keeps coming back.”  I fake snorted again for effect.

“I told you it wasn’t the food,” she said.

“Do you mind if I…” I gestured toward the bathroom in the hallway.

“Go ahead,” she said.

As I stood up, I made sure to move my nose around my face as hideously as possible.  “Of all the times…” I muttered.

Once in the bathroom, I shut the door, found some tissue, and blew into it like a trumpet.  I knew she could hear me through the door.  If this didn’t disgust her, I’d fake stomach issues.  But I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to have to resort to that.  No date deserves listening to stomach issues or dealing with the aftermath.

I stepped out of the bathroom and made sure that she saw me wiping my nose.  “I think that’s just the beginning,” I said.  “”I’m sorry.  But I should probably go.”

“You don’t need to,” she said.  “We can still watch a movie.”

“I’m dripping like a faucet,” I said.  “I almost dripped on your leg.”

“It’s not a big deal,” she said, perplexed. Jenny seemed disappointed, and I hesitated.  Usually women of Jenny’s stature turned me down.  I wasn’t used to being hit on by a woman like her, and that was tough to ignore, but I needed time to think.

I fake snorted fake snot a couple times just to make sure Jenny didn’t go for a kiss.  If she’d gone for the kiss, I might have relented.  But the obnoxious snorting kept her back, and I headed for the door.  I thought I was home free, that the bailout was successful.  But then Jenny asked:

“Are you going to call?”

*****

To be continued!  And you can start here to read Awkward Moments in Dating from the beginning!