Continuing The Quest For The Perfect Match - Two More Online Dating Horror Stories

Two more online dates; two more online dating horror stories.The advice from my trusted advisor to meet women in this new state via the internet was not looking to be very helpful. So far the only thing that had come from it was two embarrassing stories that my friends got a kick out of (thanks, guys). In the meantime, I was stuck being the third, fifth, and even seventh wheel on their dates, which on the fun scale, falls somewhere between a root canal and a colonoscopy.Anyways, I searched out a few more potential matches and had some dates set up. I would do anything to get away from being the charity case that tags along on other people's dates. So I had a date with a Hispanic woman around my age who was a police officer. This intrigued me - I had never dated a cop, nor did I know anyone who had. We seemed to hit it off pretty well, and I really enjoyed our conversations online and on the phone. At one point we talked about our "wilder days" which turned into a heated debate about who could out-drink who. Here's a little background on me: I am six foot three, two hundred forty pounds, and just about 100% Irish. Needless to say, I can put away a few drinks before I start doing something completely crazy, like dancing or cleaning my apartment. Either way we joked about finding out some day down the road, and left it at that.We decided to meet at a Mexican bar and grill in a nice part of town on a Friday night. An hour before the date she called to inform me that her car had broken down. Not a problem. I had just bought a brand new, fully loaded pickup truck and was more than happy to show it off. So I picked up from her place, which was about a half hour from the bar and grill, and we drove down together.We arrived at the bar and grill where we were greeted and seated by a very attractive hostess (hey, it's the first date... I can look). The waitress came by to take our drink order, and since the drive had gotten me over the jitters, I went with a glass of water to start. After ridiculing me, she opted for a long island iced tea. Wow.She finished her first drink before I got halfway through my water and ordered another one. Then another one. And finally, one more. After a while her speech became impaired and I had a twisted fantasy in my head of putting a cop through a sobriety test. Soon the possibility of the date lasting much longer dropped significantly: she laughed hard and fell right out of her chair.So much for her passing that field sobriety test.So I helped her to her feet and a woman at another table helped her to the bathroom. I asked for the bill and checked my watch: 40 minutes into the date. This was a new record. She came back from the restroom looking rather green in the face. In case you have never had a long island iced tea (or 4 of them), they are rather strong - I drank a few not too long ago and puked up things I had eaten in high school. The bill paid, I picked her up and carried her to the parking lot.As we approached my truck, something hit me: this was my brand new truck. Here I was about to drive a half hour with an intoxicated woman in it who had already thrown up once horror short stores. Not good. I set her down and was about to voice my concern when she collapsed, out cold. I caught her and tried to wake her up, but to no avail.The night just kept getting better.Suddenly an idea hit me: it was a warm night, the truck bed was squeaky clean, and the drive to her place was only a half hour. Horrible, horrible thought, but at the time, I found it to be brilliant. So, before I could let my conscience get the best of me, I lifted Officer Boozehound into the bed of the truck, covered her with a blanket, and drove her home. It didn't take very long before I was carrying her to her apartment.The perfect end to a "perfect" evening.I knocked on the door and her roommate answered, who helped me carry her to her room, and who was also quite attractive (I'm a guy - I notice these things). She informed me that this was not the first time my date had been brought home this way... as if the idea of seeing her again was even a possibility. As we struggled to get my intoxicated date to her room, she started to come around, and asked me in a slurred voice, "I didn't throw up in your new truck did I?""No, you did not, and I appreciate that."Since she was awake, I decided to call an end to this horrible evening, jumped in my truck, and peeled out leaving her parking lot. I went home, poured myself a scotch on the rocks, and fell asleep watching a rented action movie. At least the evening wasn't a total bust.In any case, being the pessimist (realist) that I am, I already had a date lined up for the next night. She was fun and interesting to talk to (good), she loved my sense of humor (great), and she was a professional massage therapist (yes!). She wanted to take food out of the question and just meet at a bar, which I was not too thrilled about after the previous night's experience. But I decided that I was bound to have a good date eventually, so I headed down to the bar with an optimistic attitude.I took a seat at the bar after arriving early, so I left it up to her to find me. It was a good thing too, because she had somewhat changed her appearance since that photo on her profile: four visible tattoos, a pierced lower lip, a pierced eyebrow, and several earrings in each ear. Having been raised in a rather strict, Roman Catholic household, the first thought to enter my mind was "My mom would flip out if I brought this one home to meet her!".My second thought was, "I can't wait to bring her home to Mom!"Anyways, despite an appearance that I wasn't usually attracted to, I found this woman to be rather beautiful in her own way. The tattoos she had were tasteful and in all the right places, and oddly I found the piercings to be attractive. We immediately hit it off and spent at least an hour slowly sipping our drinks and getting to know each other. Perhaps my quest to find a normal woman online was over.As usual, the joke was on me.After a while I noticed something that I should have noticed earlier. She had her cell phone on the table and casually checked it quite often. She had a daughter, so I dismissed it as her checking to see if her babysitter had called. But after about ten more times checking the phone, I finally asked in a joking manner, "Hey, do you have somewhere to be?". She chuckled, then hit me with a verbal punch to the gut: "This guy I have been seeing now and then keeps text-messaging me. He's so hilarious."Sorry, Mom. I guess I'll have to find another one to freak you out...Unfortunately, my facial expressions allow people to read me like a book, and she could see that I was both irritated and disappointed. I became even more so when she decided to send the guy a message back with a big goofy grin on her face. But I had every right to be upset; that was possibly the rudest thing anyone had ever done to me on a date (even topping the one from the night before). I had even gone to the trouble of turning my phone, mostly because I didn't want Officer Boozehound calling me, but I wasn't about to this one that.After that, the conversation all but stopped. She didn't understand why I was irritated and I didn't understand how someone so stupid was managing to raise a child. So I paid for my half of the drinks (sorry Sugar, no free rides) and headed home to finish that action movie... and that bottle of scotch.I checked my cell phone and found a voicemail from my favorite officer. She apologized profusely for acting the way she did and said she really hoped she did not throw up on the seats of my new truck. She even offered to have it cleaned if she did.Oh well... at least the evening ended with a laugh.