The Tale of the Coke Guy

I promised that if you shared your dating stories, I'd share some of mine. Well, in the interest of time, and of not digging up too many painful memories, I've chosen a single story that effectively illustrates my luck with the opposite sex (prior to meeting My Love, of course).

It was 1996 or so, and I was home from college for a weekend or a break. I'm not sure which. a couple girlfriends and I, who were known to drive around talking and listening to our favorite music, decided to stop in to McDonald's for something to eat. Instead of going in, we thought we'd go through the drive-through and sit in the car to eat--it's easier to chat and listen to music in the car.

I was driving, so I pulled up to the speaker and ordered our food, paid at the first window and crept up to the second window to retrieve our heart-attacks-in-a-bag. Then I pulled into a parking spot. We happily dug into our burgers and fries until my friend in the passenger seat said, "That guy next us wants me to roll down my window."

I leaned forward to see who it was, thinking I might know him from somewhere. He was frantically moving his arm in a cranking motion, so I put the passenger-side window down with the switch on my arm rest.

"Hi, do you go to [my college name]?" he called from his own car.

"Yeeeeaaahhh," I answered hesitantly, realizing he must have seen the sticker in my back window.

"Yeah, I thought so," he said getting excited. "I thought I recognized you."

"Oh, do you go there?" I asked, wondering where this conversation was going. He was semi-attractive, but I was getting more and more creeped out by the moment.

"No, I deliver Coke on campus. I've seen you in the C-store."

Now I was starting to wonder if I shouldn't just roll up the window and peel out of the parking lot before this lunatic got any funny ideas. The other girls were giggling quietly, no help at all. I did work at the campus convenience store part-time as part of my work-study and was in there pretty regularly for quick food between classes, but I didn't remember ever being in there during a soda delivery.

"Oh," I said, "ok. Well..." I started to blow him off, reaching for the switch on my arm-rest again when he interrupted.

"Hey," he yelled. "You ever go to [town]?"

"Uh, sometimes..." I said.

"I live there. My address is [address]. You should stop by some time. I don't have a phone or I'd give you my number."

I turned to my friends who were laughing audibly now. "Is this guy for real?" I whispered. "Did he just try to pick me up by giving me his address?" Then I called back to him, "Yeah, OK. Maybe I'll see you around." And I rolled up the window before my friends' laughter got out of control.

And thus began the legend of Ami's tool belt, where she quickly and aptly collected stories of all the tools that took interest in her. It filled up fast, let me tell you.

Got your own dating horror stories? Share them in the comments of the Bloggy Giveaways contest post and you could win a copy of Perfect on Paper.