My husband has a never-ending supply of dating disaster stories. And he’s always willing to share. Some tales poke fun at him. Other incidents focus an embarrassing spotlight on his date. The stories you are about to read are true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent. (Like the old Dragnet show.)
When my husband was a freshman in college, he invited a girl to a school dance. They both dressed up in their finery and donned their dancing shoes. He picked her up at her dormitory and escorted her to the school auditorium. They danced the night away, gyrating to the beat of the music. Midway through the evening, his date needed to visit the Ladies Room. When she exited the bathroom, he took her hand and began to lead her back to the dance. However, another girl tapped her on the shoulder and whispered in her ear. Her eyebrows rose almost to her hairline as she turned around to face the girl…and all but mooned my hubby (pun intended). His date had inadvertently tucked her dress into her pantyhose before she’d sashayed out of the bathroom.
My husband thought he’d never encounter anything as embarrassing as the prior incident. But he was wrong. Later his freshman year, he invited a different girl to another school dance. This time he borrowed a car and drove. She wore a fancy blouse and skirt set. Always the gentleman (his mother and sisters had taught him well), my husband opened the car door for her and helped her inside. When they arrived at the dance, he gallantly helped her out of the car, slammed the car door, and took her hand to lead her forward…stripping her down to her undies. He’d accidentally caught the corner of her skirt when he’d closed the car door and the material ripped when they stepped forward. He just stood there slack jawed, unsure what to do, as she burst into tears. Needless to say, there was no second date with either girl.
