DATING: AL DENTE
Chapter 1: The Guy Who Jumped Out Of My Car
(go to the previous page)
The magical moment had arrived -- without warning, he immediately curled up into a trembling ball on my front seat, rocking back and forth with one hand on the door handle, muttering under his breath, "I have to get out, I have to get out..."
This concerned me. I didn't want him throwing up or wetting my car seat or, god forbid, to start crying. But before I could pull over to remedy
the situation, he bravely took matters into his own hands, and, in the
middle of heavy 6-lane traffic, while my car was still in motion, he
whipped off his seat belt, flung his door open and JUMPED OUT into the
fray. The last glimpse I caught of him was the tails of his tacky coat
flapping in the breeze behind him as he was running off down the sidewalk
into Greektown. I was SO insulted -- he had left my CAR DOOR OPEN.
So. I closed the door. Turned on some Nazareth. Put a piece of gum
in my mouth. Lit up a smoke. 500 pairs of eyes were watching me as
I motored off. And they were all laughing with me. Hard.
Go back to the start.
Do YOU have any nightmare dates you'd like to share? Tell KillerQueen at killerqueen@spitemag.com. Misery loves company, after all.

If you couldn't tell from the spelling in this article, KillerQueen is from Canada, where she rules over the futures of teenagers and longs for 1980s flashbacks on the radio.

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