It Ended Badly…

…the recent lack of updates.

Some of us have been partying locally, while others travelling the Far East. Back to the regularly scheduled programming shortly.

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…was hot.

(another date a la Helena Handbasket)

Polynesian face and dreadlocks to his waist. Absolute vision in my eyes. He was playing in a band fronted by a certain punk rock legend. My girlfriends who I had gone to the show with decided to poo-poo and leave a bit early, while I decided to stick around til the end. The club is clearing out and eyes start batting. I end up chatting with several people when the band manager poses a favor to ask. Would I mind driving the Legend and King of the Jungle to the airport? They have a festival to play in California and he had to take the rest of the band to Virginia that night too. Of course I agree to be stuck in a car in close proximity to His Hotness. (more…)

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(Story contributed by Laima)

I came from Lithuania to California because I married an American. That did not work out, and several months later we went our separate ways. However, I still wanted to live here in the US, and I put an ad in the Personals.

One of the (many) men who responded invited me to meet for lunch. He chose an expensive restaurant in a beautiful location, and on the phone he sounded like he was a serious and marriage-minded man. He came to pick me up in a big mercedes, he was very nice and polite. (more…)

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(Contributed by Badnewsbears)

A few years back I had started dating this guy that I had had a crush on for months. He was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. We met each other as friends, and eventually began courting one another after he had finally broken up with his seriously demented ex-girlfriend.

After a couple of weeks of playing boyfriend/girlfriend without the title, he invited me over to his house to hang out for a bit during the day. We lived relatively close to each other, so I walked there from my place. While securing plans before leaving, he told me to come right in and make myself at home, because he’d probably still be in the shower by the time I got there. Not thinking anything of it, I did as I was told. (more…)

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(Thank you, JoeyGirl, for contributing the following story)

I met my date the weekend prior to my worst date of all time and probably the best worst date story I’ll ever have. (I really hope this is it and that this is not a “ha-ha little do you know” situation.) I actually met O outside of a bar in center city Philadelphia and he was a complete gentleman. He’s an investment banker with a hoity LA accent that apparently doesn’t know his drinking limit. We met at my apartment (I’ll admit it wasn’t the best idea), he was an hour late, and yet things were fine. Aside from the fact that he offered to make me a drink, I declined, yet was given one anyways, everything was fine. It was all downhill from there though. He presented me with a flower he made from a napkin because he forgot to get me a real one. No flower would have been better than a napkin flower. (more…)

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(Another fine product of Helena Handbasket Dating Experience)

I often have a bad read on the obvious when it comes to men. Ken Doll with a crew cut was someone I always thought was ridiculously hot. However every hint I ever dropped never seemed to get a response. So I dropped it and assumed he wasn’t into me. Over the years my fantasy turned into a good friendship. Eventually any notion of anything romantic never crossed my mind.

(more…)

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…wasn’t in touch with his feminine side.

(contributed by Helena Handbasket)

After picking me up, we were on our way to dinner and headed out on the turnpike. In a genuine show of machismo and lack of anger management, Mr. Sensitive decides to pursue some clown who had cut him off, and race him. Enter flashing lights and sirens. Mr Sensitive asks me to play sick. State trooper asks, “Where’s the fire?” And in a most unconvincing stammer Mr. Sensitive tells the trooper “I’m trying to rush her home. She doesn’t feel good. -WOMAN TROUBLES-” My jaw goes slack from disbelief and mortification. The officer takes note of my probably comical expression and promptly writes the ticket.

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….was at CBGB’s.

(Another fine contribution by Helena Handbasket)

I traveled with a bunch of friends from Philly to see one of the last matinee shows. The place was beyond capacity and I had luckily scammed my way in for free. Halfway thru the last band I couldn’t take it anymore and desperately needed water. I somehow managed to get a seat at the bar with a greaser rockabilly type to my right. He begins the chatting process and is completely a gentleman. Not a mention of sweaty breasts even though I caught his eye line drifting south more than once.

(more…)

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(contributed by Helena Handbasket)

My first Christmas with my ex, he got me a butter dish. Yes, that’s right, a butter dish that you actually would put a stick of butter in. It should have ended there, but this was someone I had fallen for hard. That year I also got a crockpot and new pots and pans.

After 7 months of dating I should have had a million flags waved in my face. My girlfriend asked if it was a diamond encrusted butter dish. No. It was a dollar store butter dish.

(more…)

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(contributed by Helena Handbasket)

On a random weeknight at my favorite blue collar dive, a cute straight looking former jock saddles up next to me. He’s not my usual type, but he’s not heinous in the least. The conversation is good and stimulating, not the usual slimy pick up crap. After a wink and thumbs up from my favorite bartender I agree to exchange numbers.

First date he’s charming and flattering in all the right ways. Next date was very casual and we end up back at his place that he shares with his brother.

(more…)

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