I’ve one rule I live by.
I’ve one rule I live by: never go on a date to a gun range. I don’t care how hot she is.[1]Run. Seriously. Below I’ve created a list of bad date ideas to help you weed out any potential hazards to your health or sanity.
- Any movie. One or both of us aren’t paying attention. No, I don’t want to explain the last 140 minutes of this 150 minute film.
- Church. Sorry Hey-zeus, I’ll come see you some other time. I’ll bring the wine next time. You’ve shit taste in reds.
- Dinner with her parents. Let’s face it, they already do or will hate me.[2]
- A Circus. Clowns. Fuck that shit, dude. Not worth it.
- Anywhere that you’ll likely find yourself staring at a table of chicks you previously may or may not have had alleged relations with in the past, present, or near future. Commence countdown until they all find out what they all have in common.[3]
- Hiking/Camping Her legs hurt. You’re 50 feet from the car.
- Anything involving kids. Yeah, they’re cute. Don’t get any ideas.
- Olive Garden. Shitty Italian food.
- Any sort of double date. The quirks of two people in a relationship are inversely tolerable as their individual, not so equal parts.[4]
- Weddings. Two reasons: (1) Man down. (2) Murphy’s Law states that it will not be an open bar as a direct result of her catching the bouquet. (3) Yikes.
It’s good to have standards. It’s even better to have near impossible standards. Keeps things fresh. Shoot for the stars!
Until next time— Cool runnings.
[1] Exception: Twins.
[2] Half truth: Your Mom thinks I’m charming.
[3] Always prepare an exit strategy.
[4] Exception: Twins, or you’re going to have a threesome after the other girls date leaves.
