How to Be a Jerk!

(The following story you are about to read is true. Only the names, places, cars being driven, the times, the order of events, the things said, the reasons why they were said, thoughts and where it has taken place were changed to protect the innocent.)

Winston Churchill was once quoted as saying, "Those who fail to learn from history are condemned to re-live it. I want you to remember these very words. Do you feel like a hampster in a wheel at times? Well, you are not alone. I made mistakes, too. Just read along and see where you have made YOUR mistakes. I know where I made mine.

First of all, let us start with the very first stage: the beginning of the day. Get out of bed and go look in the mirror. Open up your eyes. Now, that is the face that is going to assault everyone who has to see it. You need to fix it. Why are you wearing that squirrel on your face? Oooops. That's your mustache and beard? Okay. Shave it, no woman wants to kiss that assuming that you are planning to get a kiss later. And while you're at it, get some new sleepwear, too. Nobody wants to see your Popeye pajamas. Take a shower and throw on some Hai Karate cologne. Smell like an old man. Brush your teeth and get dressed. Now, we can begin.

Before you fire up your brand new 1976 Pinto up, allow me to share with you a bad date I had one day. I had a blind date. You don't want that unless you are blind. After graduating from college, a classmate arranged for me to accompany his future wife and him on a blind date. I wanted to know something about my date. I asked about my date. No matter what question I asked, I was never able to get the answer I was looking for.

Me: What does she look like?

Jerry: She has a nice personality.

Me: Is she short or tall?

Jerry: She has a nice personality.

Me: What else can you tell me?

Jerry: She has a nice personality.

Me: Ugh!

Jerry: You are going to really like her.

Me: Why?

Jerry: She has a nice personality.

Jerry, his wife and I hopped into his 1977 Ford Mustang Notchback and drove off to pick up my date. In 45 minutes, we arrived at my date's apartment. Jerry ordered me to get out and get her. I asked him to point to her apartment. Jerry pointed, but I still did not move. He said that my date was waiting on me. Then, he said, "Maurice, there she is waiting on you!" I looked at the apartment and asked "Where?All I can see is that someone trained an elephant to sit on the steps." To which Jerry responded, "No, she's your date!"

She wasn't big. She was massive. I got scared. I was so afraid that if she saw me and got happy, she would jump for joy so much that she would knock over the apartment buildings around her. There was no way that Weight Watchers could see all of this. She had to have weighed 375 pounds on a good day. Jerry and I stepped out of the car. As she got closer to the car, I was so hoping that she wouldn't ask for a kiss.

As she slowly walked to the car, I glanced a bit behind her. I then turned to Jerry and said,

"Jerry, she is making footprints."

Jerry said, "Relax! Everyone makes footprints."

I responded, "In a sidewalk?"

(DATING NOTE #1: Hey, Bozo! Remember this. She is on a blind date, too. Instead of acting like a fool, try acting like a gentleman. Okay, so she is no beauty contest winner, you're no Prince Charming either. Deal with it and let's move on.)

I took out some motor oil from Jerry's tool box. I then greased the doorway and then put the oil back in the trunk. I heaved her into the car and then sat next to her. Jerry, without thinking, took his driver's seat and moved it way back slamming into both of my knees. His wife did the same with her seat although I don't think Bertha had that problem.

With my face pressed against the rear side window, I was hoping that Bertha would shift her weight so that I could sit comfortably and resume normal breathing. Bertha started talking about what she wanted to eat when we get to the restaurant. I was getting hungry, but the bumps in the road worried me. Every time Jerry hit a bump, my head hit the roof. We did not bounce too much because Bertha's weight kinda balanced out the weight of the 8 cylinder engine. Boy, this woman was HUGE.

Bertha: So, how are you?

Me: I am fine. Haven't I seen you before?

Bertha: I don't know? Where did you go that you may have seen me?

Me: Belmont Stakes? Kentucky Derby? Preakness?

Bertha: No. I have never been to those events.

Me: Okay.

(DATING NOTE #2: Do you have a chunk of cheese for a brain? Try to hold a decent conversation. Talk about things that she would like to talk about. She should do the same with you. If you don't want to go out on this date, get out of the car and go home. Let three nice people go and have fun for the evening.)

We traveled for about an hour to a local restaurant. We would have gotten there 20 minutes earlier, but the car kept bottoming out. You know you have trouble when you see sparks coming out from under the chassis. Still, I kept my big bazoo closed because this was a blind date. I just wish I hadn't seen that.

We pulled up to the restaurant. I had to pry my date out of the car. After about 10 minutes, I heard a pop. Either she was free of the car or her physically challenged bra strap broke. If it was the second, I really don't want to see it. It was her feeding time and could see her salivating already. I had a feeling that this restaurant is about to face a challenge that it has never seen before. Jerry and I grabbed our dates' hands and walked in.

It was a nice place. It had all of the amenities that one would expect in such a fancy joint-carpeting, paintings, clean, piano music overhead. Everything I like was here. It certainly was different than any place I went to. The places that I could afford required that I talk to a clown's face first in order to get my food.

We had to stand in a very short line before we could go to a table. The restaurant host asked, "Table for four?" I wanted to say, "No. Table for four and a half." I had to bite my tongue. I decided to turn to Bertha and strike up a conversation.

Me: So, how much do you weigh?

Bertha: I weigh 300.

My next question would have been "Pounds or tons?" It would have guaranteed my instant and justifiable death. Back to biting my lip again.

(DATE NOTE #3: Take note, Pumpkinhead. This is VERY important. NEVER, EVER ASK A WOMAN A QUESTION ABOUT HER WEIGHT!! This is the most dangerous question in the world. There is no way to recover from this if she turns on you. Just guess and keep all weight-related questions and answers in your skull until your death day.)

Now, we are standing in line waiting for an open table. Jerry and his wife look around. I took out my wallet and opened it. I had 25 clean, crisp $20 bills. That should impress her. Then, I wondered if I had enough for my meal because I was certain that this Shamu could eat. Well, I guess that I could always order a cheap glass of water. Who needs food anyway?

As I was putting my wallet away, certain that I will never see that much money again unless I am involved in a bank robbery, Bertha did something that stunned me. She put her whole arm into the tank and pulled out a lobster. The poor thing was kicking and unable to scream. It somehow knew the fate that was about to befall on it. Before I could say anything, she put the whole thing in her mouth-shell and all-and commenced chewing. That poor creature never stood a chance. I swear that poor little fellow was trying to communicate for help. There was nothing I could do. I could hear the actual crunching of the shell as she just chewed the crustacean into a simple substance. The misery was finally over when she swallowed it. I was hoping that she was not going to go for another. I looked into the lobster tank. I never saw a lobster try to hang itself before.

(DATE NOTE #4: It is okay to bring along a snack for you and your date while you are waiting in various lines.)

We sat at our table and prepared to eat. Bertha was already halfway done with her meal. She was sucking it all in like a Hoover vacuum. Then, she did something that really irked me. Before I could start eating my food, she decided to pick through my meal as well. My fork hasn't even met the food yet and already she was taking a personal tour of my plate.

Bertha: Are those peas and carrots?

Me: Yes.

Bertha: Are you gonna eat them?

Me: I was planning to.

Bertha: Let me try some.

Me: But......

Bertha: Those were delicious. You should try them.

Me: I would if I had any left. For some reason, they are living in your stomach with a terrified lobster.

This went on for the rest of the meal. By the time she was done, I was able to look at my reflection in the plate.

Bertha: When are they gonna serve dinner? That appetizer was REALLY nice.

Me: That WAS the dinner! You ate everything.

(DATE NOTE #5: Meathead, women enjoy it when a man shares the meal on his plate with his date. They find it to be very sexy. Share!)

I sat there staring at my barren plate for a while. Bertha kept licking her plate clean. Then, she grabbed my plate and gave it a tongue polishing as well. The waiter returned with our drinks. She had the audacity to order a Diet Coke because she was watching her weight. I was watching her weight, too, as it kept expanding beyond belief. She almost had me fooled until the fifth bottle arrived. The waiter looked at me. They were running out of soda. They should have hooked up a fire house to the soda fountain. That way, they could have kept pumping the stuff into that cave known as her belly.

Eventually, the waiter, who was also very shocked by our dinner experience, returned with two separate checks. Jerry and I looked at our bills. Then, he took out his credit card, handed it to the waiter who returned with Jerry's card and he was done. I took another look at my bill and nearly fainted.

Me: Waiter, I think that there is a mistake here. You either gave me the wrong bill or someone's telephone number.

Waiter: That is no phone number, Sir. That is the total of what you and your date devoured tonight.

Me: But I only had the water. Oh wait! It did have a piece of ice in it.

The waiter certainly wasn't amused. I took out my wallet to pay for the bill. He reached for my wallet, took all of the money out of it and returned my empty wallet.

Jerry looked at me and said, "Aren't you gonna leave a tip? The man worked very hard to serve us."

The waiter was still looking at me. I shrugged. He then grabbed my wallet again and took out my Mickey Mouse Club membership card.

Waiter: No tip? Sir, you will get this back when you learn how to tip. By the way, Sir, I need to charge you more. Since you and your date have been here, FIVE lobsters have disappeared. I don't know how she got by me, but Bertha waddled her way back to the lobster tank. I knew what happened to those poor creatures. I think that I saw one crawl out of the tank to make its way back to the safety of the ocean floor.

(DATE NOTE #6: Always leave your waiter a nice tip. This will ensure you a very nice seat in the restaurant the next time you return. Tips are usually 15% of your meal cost. Show yer date that you are not cheap, Mr. Moneybags.)

When our meal was over, we headed back to the parking lot so that we could head home. The gals walked way ahead of us. Jerry and I, talking sports, came out shortly behind them. The gals stayed behind to talk (presumably about me) while Jerry and I looked for the car.

Me: Jerry, when do you get the bubble top installed on your Mustang?

Jerry: My car doesn't have a bubble top.

Me: It does now (as I pointed to his car).

I never heard a grown man cry like that before. He ran over to kiss and hug his car.

We got in and drove back to pick up the girls. Jerry and I wedged Bertha in and then Jerry's wife got in. Now the three of us were struggling for air. It seems that Bertha kept expanding when food was given to her. He had to drive very slowly for the sake of his chassis which may have been damaged beyond repair at this point,

We finally got back to Bertha's apartment. Jerry helped me to get her out of the car. I placed my feet upon her derriere and gave it a huge push. Within a few minutes, we heard a loud pop similar to a champagne cork while she flew out of the car, across the sidewalk and right into the wooden fence, reducing it to a pile of multi-sized toothpicks. She got up, dusted herself off and continued her walk to her doorway. At one point, she stopped and looked back at the car. For a second, I could have sworn that I saw a tear in her eye. Was she crying? Why?

(DATE NOTE #7: You don't have to be a pig your whole life. Despite what you think of her, she has feelings, too. She may have liked you. Maybe she hasn't been on a date before. Maybe you were the guy she really likes and you treated her like dirt all evening while she thought of you as the best thing in her life. Could you not even find it in your heart and soul to walk her safely to her doorway?)

Me: Hey, Bertha, wait up!!

Bertha: Okay.

Me: I was wondering. Are you available for dinner next week?

Bertha: Are you sure that you want to be with me?

Me: Sure. I like you. I am so sorry for the way I behaved tonight. Wanna talk on the phone tomorrow?

Bertha: Sure.

(DATING CONCLUSION: Guys, we are human beings. We should not act like pigs and that is a huge insult to pigs. Women are people who deserve the utmost respect. They are not meant to be treated on any level less than a human. Nobody is perfect. While you may think that you are a gift to all women, that does not mean that she actually thinks that you are. Love and respect are earned. To get them, you have to give them. Treat her nicely and she will treat you nicely.

The speaker and Bertha dated for a few more years. They grew so close that the speaker shared his concern for her health. She took part in a weight loss program while he worked on his manners and such. She lost a great deal of weight and even took up competitive running. Three years later, he popped the question and she accepted. He and Bertha got married and became the parents of two cute baby girls. He also bought and put away a rifle. Why? Because when his girls go dating one day, every boy had better show them respect and not treat them like dirt.