The first date that blew my mind was an insta-date. After meeting her at a local bar in Patchogue, NY I ask if she needs a ride home. She declines and I walk out of the bar. I then get a phone call, 30 seconds later, "actually I do, can I still get a ride?" I turn around and walk her to my car. I need an excuse to get in her apartment so I tell her we should watch a movie a bit and make some popcorn. This was an 18 minute car ride home that not only scared the living sh1t out of me but made me question ever taking a girl home again.
She starts off my telling me she's a witch. Yes, in all seriousness, a witch. How the fark do you respond to that? I just brushed it off by saying ok and trying to switch topics to anything else. She kept, bringing it back up. Talking about elementals, animal sacrifices, pentagrams, spells and how we were meant to be together.
I mention my cousin in Iraq she tries to read my mind. Now this girl is very hot, great rack, tight waist, blonde hair, and one sweet ass. But when you tell me you want to conduct a spell with me and your cat, I'm out. Now I'm rolling up to her house which was in the back woods of Port Jefferson, now making a tourist town a creepy wooded area out of a horror flick. Again she invites me up to bedroom, and this time I decline. "You know what I have work in the morning, I gotta get up very early". We kiss even though at this point all I want to do is get the F out of there and drive away. Last time I try and fark a witch. But maybe I should I have. Just to make this story a bit more complete. If I didn't have the imagery of her cutting me and using my blood for a voodoo spell while her cat walks over me in a shape of a star I would have stayed.
Next date was a quickie. Movie, Yeah Yeah, movies are a bad first date, but it was wednesday and I felt like seeing Paul with Seth Rogan. After the movie I ask if there's a park nearby. She has me park a block away from her house. I know what's coming, you know what's coming, and any guy who ever hooked up should know what this means.
We go at it for about 15 minutes, with the car in accessory and radio playing. While she's on top of me she ask, "Do you like Brittany Spears?". I didn't say it but I was thinking, " What? Why are you asking me questions like this. Shut up and blow me." I tell her to blow me, and she does, as I shrug off the questionable look on my face.
I drop her off and erase her number from my phone. Just don't want to deal with it.