The Date Went Straight Down the Toilet

Written by Grant Jameson, Guest Blogger of Love Kudos
Edited by Lauren K.

I used to have a rule: Never bail on a date. Now, obviously I would never use the old “let me just powder my nose for a minute” routine, because, a) I’m not a horrible human being, and b) I don’t carry a compact with me. By “bailing,” I instead mean cutting a date short at a convenient moment by skipping dessert after dinner or opting not to go out for drinks after a movie. My rule basically meant that I would stick with a date for as long as the girl wanted to let it go because, hey, it could always lead to sex, or, more importantly, it could always lead to a good story.

However, my date with Kat (not her real name, for reasons soon to be clear) taught me better. I should have seen many signs telling me to punch out at the first available moment. Even before the date, there was the last-minute notification that her friend was with her, and then the sudden change of location from Red River to **shudder** Dirty 6th Street.

Upon our actually meeting, I should have taken it as a warning when she was touchy-feely way too quickly. (An aside, this would have been a great thing for a crazy night at a bar, not so much for an online first date encounter.) Within minutes of meeting Kat, her friend/roommate started hysterically sobbing. At 11PM, when I thought the date was on its way to a termination point, they asked me if I could walk them home.  As a chivalrous guy, I accepted. However, the walk turned into a mile and a half journey, much more than the few blocks away she proclaimed was the distance from the bar. I definitely should have known better than to accept the invite upstairs when we got to her place. But I had a rule. So up I went.

Things moved quickly from there. Before I knew what was happening, she had pulled me into her bedroom, closed the door, and her pants were down at her ankles. But not because she was about to pounce on me, because she was peeing. Her bedroom had an adjoining bathroom and despite knowing me for less than two hours, she felt no hesitation in dropping her pants right in front of me to urinate with the door open. Needless to say, it was shortly after this incident that I broke my prime rule and did indeed, make a polite excuse and bail. I did not feel it was necessary to send the, "I am sorry I am leaving. You peed in front of me" text.

from: singlegirlblogging.com

Now, some may call me foolish. After all, if she was already removing her pants in front of me, it stood to reason I had a decent chance at getting lucky that night. Call me crazy, though, or at least call me non-fetishistic in this case, but I don’t find urinating to be one of the world’s most potent aphrodisiacs. Furthermore, would I really want to sleep with a woman who, at the very least, had some lack-of-boundary issues? I just could not get past the fact that she peed in front of me on a first date.

After that night, thanks to Kat, I abandoned my little rule. If enough signs are there, I will shut a date down at the earliest humane moment. True, sticking with a date whatever twists and turns it might take could lead me to a great story, but as I’ve learned, it also might lead me straight down the toilet.

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