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Sunday, August 13, 2006

Cra-Z D8s 5 (Funny Date Story)

My date knocked while I was still putting on the finishing touches. I sent my daughter to open the door for him, offer him something to drink, and entertain him.

My daughter soon returned to my room. She sat Indian style on my bed and did that little butt dance kids do when they have a secret they are dying to tell you, but want to play with your mind first. I asked, “What’s wrong?” She grinned mischievously, as she stifled her secret and laughter, saying, “OOOOHHH, nothing.”

I stared at her and then at myself in the mirror. I asked, “Am I dressed wrong?” She nodded her head mockingly in the affirmative. I asked, “How is he dressed? Am I over dressed? Does he have jeans on?” She rattled her head yes as she laughed hysterically. I told her to go keep him entertained while I found something to wear. The little sage succinctly informed me: “OOOHHH, I don’t think you have anything to get close to this! Let’s just say he didn’t wear his chaps and spurs.” She batted her eyelashes repeatedly as she enjoyed watching my reaction. My eyes grew bigger than my mouth. She fell back on the bed in a fit of giggles. I sent her to keep him busy while I threw on a pair of jeans, an oxford shirt, and high tops.

When I walked into the living room, my cowboy turned toward me. My daughter had not quite prepared me enough for what I saw, but I masked my shock with a smile. He spoke. I think I heard him say, “I hope you don’t mind my being all gussied up. I like to look my best when I go out. Bet you didn’t know I could look this good.” (Hee-haw) I made my head go up and down as acknowledgment of having received the message.

Fringe hung from his shirt pockets. Shiny decorative snaps held the shirt together. A rawhide strip laced under the collar and a large bull served to keep the tie’s ends together as they streamed down his chest. His belt buckle was as large as my face. His jeans were extremely tight, as was the fringy shirt. I deduced that the tight jeans were to remind him not to sit down, else the belt buckle would emasculate him. Snakeskin boots with silver tips on the toes decorated his feet. Draped on the chair was a suede jacket with fringe streaming down each arm and forming Vs on the front and back. A large cowboy hat sat atop the jacket.

We had not decided on where to go, but one of the places that had been a considered option was a club where people knew me. I snapped my head up as I informed him: “I found out today that nothing fun is happening at my club tonight, so that option is out.” He smiled and declared that we have plenty of time for him to meet my friends; tonight he wanted to take me somewhere real special. I refrained from asking if I knew anyone there.

As I stepped out the door, I realized this hunk of cowboy had no end of surprises this night. In my drive there stood a truck with wheels higher than my waist. He introduced me to his truck. It is named “Big Blue”. Guess what color it was. They “been e’rywhere together” is what I was told.

I said, “Okay, I got this figured out. You open the door and I take a run forward and vault into the seat, right?” He laughed a macho guffaw, PICKED me up, and put me into the cab of the truck. I snapped my head to the right and left, searching for spying neighbors. I remarked as to how dignified that felt. He guffawed at me again. By this time, he had already called me “little lady” six times. I guess him picking me up was to hammer that fact home. I could see my children inside the doorway, laughing hysterically. I had this weird urge to shoot them the bird. Wild Redneck Mama!

As we were headed out of my drive, I buckled my seatbelt. He hollered across the vast space between us that I could sit in the middle. I asked, “Excuse me? The middle of what?” He patted the seat between us and explained that I should sit next to him. I declined politely, explaining that I was just fine where I was. He insisted that I should sit over by him. Again I declined. He asked why not. I joked, “Well, that would make me look like a country girl.” He said, “We can’t have that, can we now?” I smiled, “No.”

He informed me that we were going to wrestle up some big steaks. I ran all the restaurants through my mind where I knew the clientele and/or owners, and prayed to hear a foreign name when I asked, “Where are we going?” He grinned with pride as he declared that it is steak night at his Moose Lodge. Whew! I declared with glee, “That is a safe place to go.” He assured me that I would always be safe with him there to protect me.

“Oh” he says, “I do need to warn you that I am sorta popular there amongst the women folk, so don’t get all steamed up if you see some of them hanging on me.” I promised to refrain from fits of jealousy.

“Oh” he says, “It is also my night to grill the steaks.” I nodded my head as to let him know that I understood, even though I wasn’t sure I did understand what that entailed or why he felt compelled to tell me. I wondered if he had a part time job there.

He proceeded to detail the protocol of the lodge: “The men folk, they stand outside and grill the steaks, while their women folk do the fixings: salads, baked potatoes, and whatnot. The women folk also clean up, doing the dishes and all.”

I hesitantly inquired as to my status: “Um, am I, by chance, your woman folk tonight?” He guffawed how I most certainly was and how I was gonna be the “perttiest filly” there. He also projected that since he is THE major stud, all the women would be jealous of me.

I looked down at my fingernails and recalled the grueling two hours and $40 it cost me to have them done for this date. I asked, “What do they have, a restaurant size dish washer?” He laughed, “No, they do them by hand in a deep sink back in the kitchen.”

We were almost out of my subdivision. I said, “How about if I stand outside with the men folk and flip steaks, while you work inside with the women folk so they can spend more time with you?” He guffawed at how funny I was and said it just don’t work that way. “Never did; never will.”

I offered a new fangled idea: “How about all us women folk flip those steaks and you men folk work in the kitchen?” He guffawed again, slapping his thigh and declaring that I am a cute little thang. He decided to play along and jokingly threatened, “You know, I have half a mind to turn BIG BLUE here around and take the little prissy city girl back home.” I snapped my fingers, smiled, and said, “Magnificent idea!”

He started to turn onto the highway. I reigned him in by clutching the dashboard and shouting, “Whoa, Big Blue, we be headed home now.” My date informed me that he was just teasing with me. I wagged my index finger in the air and said, “No, no, now. A promise is a promise. Take me home now.” He said, “Let’s just drive up here aways to talk. I know what you need. You probably never had a real man do you.” My eyebrows went through the ceiling. I said, “Excuse me?!?!” I took a deep breath and tried to be polite, as I said, “Look, I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but I don’t get “done”. Can’t you turn around here?” He boasted, “I can turn this baby around on a dime!” I said, “Good, then impress me and do it!”

When we arrived in my driveway, my children were at the door bickering and laughing as to which one of them timed my return the closest.


Click On One Of The Links Below For More Fun Reads

Cra-Z D8s 1 (Funny Date Story)

Cra-Z D8s 2 (Funny Date Story)

Cra-Z D8s 3 (Funny Date Story)

Cra-Z D8s 4 (Funny Date Story)

Cra-Z D8s 5 (Funny Date Story)

Cra-Z D8s 6 (Funny Date Story)

Cra-Z D8s 7 (Funny Date Story)

Cra-Z D8s 8 (Funny Date Story)

Cra-Z D8s 9 (Funny Date Story)

Cra-Z D8s 10 (Funny Date Story)

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In the singles world, we all go on dates, some of which are so funny that the retelling of them makes the world laugh. Check out some of the funny stories others have experienced. Be sure to spread the laughter by sharing some of your own stories. Scroll down to find a comment section so that you can let the people who submitted the stories know how much you enjoyed reading about their funny dates. Report your crazy date by e-mail to: Cra_Z_D8s@yahoo.com

Most important thing: have a fun, laugh-filled life. Don't let people rattle your cage. Be safe: Treat flattery like bubblegum: chew it; enjoy it; spit it out - don't swallow it. Educate with humor. Laugh while learning. There is no better humor than the facts of life. Laughter serves as a psychological healing balm rubbed upon our emotional wounds. - Bree


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