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Real dates. Real disasters. |
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My Very Special Go-Kart Date by Chris J. (20, M, Shaumburg, IL) "So I'm out with this really cute girl from my dorm. The plan was go-karting and mini-golf at the local Putt-Putt, followed by Olive Garden. Yes, I know Olive Garden's not the most original date plan in the world, but I was on a budget and this was the 'burbs. At least it wasn't Chili's. The Go-Karting part was her idea. Hot, AND cool. I was excited. Things are going great until we get to the Go-Karts. There's this A-hole with spiky gelled hair who keeps who keeps ramming me and cutting me off, I guess to impress his skanky, tanning-booth girlfriend. I slow down to let my date catch up with me and WHAM, this guy rear-ends me. I pull over to let him pass and WHAM - he checks me against the wall. I'm normally pretty chill... but there comes a point when someone's repeated douchery starts to get your blood boiling, especially when said doucheries are accompanied by cocky looks and stupid snickers that make his lubed hair bounce up and down. But I'm a date. And this is public - there are families on the track. I settle for giving the guy a dirty look, which he returns with a finger, then taking a deep breathe and driving on. The light turns red on our final lap, and I'm one of the first people to stop at the finish. I unbuckle my belt and have just started to get up, and WHAM! I'm rear-ended full speed. My head slams into the protective back of the kart - one of those really painful whiplashes that makes you forget everything else and just want to fight somebody. And I hear footsteps, rushing up to my kart from behind. Really, guy? You want to show off your man-hood on a go kart track? Well, enough is enough - I'm seeing red anyways, and if this guy is going to start something, at least I'm going to get the first punch in. I jump up out of the kart and turn, already swinging at this guy... And that's when I learn that it wasn't the A-hole who rammed me at all, but a mentally-challenged kid who'd lost control of his Kart and is coming to apologize. Unfortunately, this information comes to me too late. I try to pull the punch, but it's too late. Like in an out of body experience, I watch my fist collide with the special kid's face. The kid falls backwards into somebody's go kart. As you might imagine, a pretty memorable scene followed. The kid, bawling his head off. Me, absolutely horrified, stuttering and trying frantically to apologize. The kid's dad, trying to get at me, and the Go-Kart attendance holding him back and wondering how his $8/hr job landed him in this mess. Everyone else just looking on in shock. And my date, staring, mouth open, dumbfounded. Because her date just punched out a retarded kid. We never did make it to Olive Garden."
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