Actually Judy may be the only woman I have never dated. At least a woman named Judy. But I’ve been out with every Linda, Mary and Sue this side of Timbuktu. Plus here an Andrea, there a Patty, Connie, Connie, Connie, Marie, Jeanie, JoAnn, Cheryl, Mary Ann, Karla and several whose names I cannot recall including some who I may not have remembered their names while we were on our date.

        I’ve been teased, tortured, seduced, abandoned, dissed, cussed out, had gifts lavished on me and been laughed at by women who were tall, short, skinny, plump, buxom, flat-chested, and blond brunette and redhead alike.

     I’ve had blind dates with both Iron Arm and Five Finger Susie, neither of whom demonstrated their alleged talent, but Chipmunk did. Another blind date was with a girl who was touted as having the longest pubic hairs ever. I once went on a quadruple blind date. One of the four girls was known around her dorm as “the Green Bay Packer”, and she turned out to be the most attractive.

         I’ve even dated women over a period of time in which we developed……you know……like a serious relationship, only to have it end abruptly in the most offbeat manner. And don’t get me started on the lesbians.

         I’ll fill you in on the details of some of these (mis)adventures and I promise that all the names are changed to protect the guilty. Can’t change my own, though, even if I carry more guilt than anyone. ( Yes, I may have contributed to this chaos.)


          I may as well use scarlet letters for the scarlet women, eh? “Mary”…Iron Arm…was the high school classmate of my frat brother’s girlfriend. My roommate happened to have gone to the same school and when I told him I was fixed up with “Mary” his immediate response was …”IRON ARM!!” Asked what that nickname meant he explained. Rather than be graphic I’ll point you to the scene in Animal House where the Omega frat guy was shown parked in his sports car with his girlfriend, and she suddenly raised her hand and pulled off a rubber glove. ‘Nuff said.

       I took my 1968 version to a Saturday afternoon football game but when it came time to pick her up for that night’s party, I stood her up. Look folks, it’s not like something I really needed help with and I was better company by myself than she would have been. Not that I DID do that, of course. Precious bodily fluids and all that, you know.


        Another blind date at my frat only this was in 1973 when I came up from Florida in the fall on vacation to party and attend a couple football games. This young lady presumably had a capacity measured by hand. Well, by the time I picked her up to go to the party I had been drinking steadily for two and a half days. So I was pretty wasted after a short time with her Saturday evening. So I didn’t give a rat’s ass. Besides, even if the nickname had proven out, I hadn’t packed any large paper bags for my trip North.


           “Jill” and I had been fixed up by a mutual friend and had dated off and on for over four years, right after my divorce. But really the last 6 months we dated had been more out of convenience, habit and horniness. She was a good woman. Her older sister had been divorced during that time and “Jill” would tell me how “Gloria” was experimenting with lesbianism, usually just shaking her head in disbelief at her sister’s actions.

           Several months after “Jill” and I stopped seeing each other, I happened to drive by her house on a Sunday afternoon on my way home from doing laundry and buying groceries. I noticed her car in the driveway and decided to stop and say Hi. We had remained friendly and been in touch a few times.

          She seemed nervous when I entered and, knowing Sundays were often the only day she could socialize, I asked if she was expecting someone. She said “yes” and I asked if things were going well and she smiled broadly. So I excused myself and was leaving. As I headed out the door she told me, “For your information HER name is Mary Lou”. I got in my car and laughed as I drove away.

         A few years ago on an internet adult site I met a local woman. We exchanged emails and decided to meet face to face one Saturday evening. I walked into Chili’s and found her there, reasonably attractive and wearing a nice smile. We ordered drinks and began conversing prior to ordering dinner. Just in the normal course of conversation she said “I’ve been a lesbian for over thirty years.” I was so startled I had to aske her to repeat it.

         “Joyce” told me a little of her experience, though no juicy details dammit. She wasn’t certain exactly how or with whom she would return to the heterosexual world she had started out in. But she did mention one guy of interest who she would see at a professional conference the following week.

          After dinner I walked her to her car and we smooched a bit. It was enough to hold promise for a good time ahead. After Joyce’s return from the conference, we talked on the phone and agreed to meet for drinks the next evening. Although she was very friendly and good to talk to, I sensed from a couple of her remarks that her dealings with Mr. X perhaps had advanced farther than she let on. We did have a little necking session, but her heart really wasn’t in it.

        So I guess I can send ’em out but can’t bring ’em back. Alas.


       While living in Harrisburg for a time in 1973, there was a married couple who were frinds with my best buddy and his wife. Well the wife of the second couple offered to fix me up with a girl from where she worked. At the appointed time I picked up “Denise” and we went to a local drive-in theater, despite it being the middle of winter.

        With the in-car heater provided by the drive-in and with certain grapplings and writhings of our own, we managed to avoid frostbite during the first movie. I was eagerly anticipating the second feature after intermission hoping to lead to intromission. “Denise” left to go to the restroom. I have not seen her since.


           I had dated “Myrtle” a couple of times my frshman year in college as she attended the nearby hospital nursing school. At the end of my junior year, returning home for the summer, I ran into her and we ended up together all summer. She had finished school by then and was an R.N. at that same hospital

          “Myrtle”was pretty and sweet…one of the nicest people I have ever known. She still lived at home and of course I was staying with my parents for the summer. But we had a lot of fun together and I thought things might even get more serious. We went to the Twin Coaches nightclub to see Smokey Robinson for my 21st birthday in July. We went out for a nice dinner then to a fun club-Bimbo’s- in Pittsburgh where the three piece band led sing-alongs for her birthday in August.

     Soon after I had to return to Morgantown and looked forard to her comng down for football games and parties. However, following morning classes I cam back to my fraternity house for lunch and picked up my mail. There was a letter from “Myrtle” and I went to my room to read it. BAD NEWS. Turns out a sailor she had dated a while back had come back on furlough and they had renewed their relationship.

         I tossed the letter down, proceeded downstairs and out the front door of the house. I walked down the hill to the State Store downtown, entered, looked briefly over the selections and bought a fifth of Rebel Yell (long before I ever heard of Billy Idol). I walked back to the house from town, straight up 162 steps, got some ice and two bottles of Coke, went to my room, filled a brandy snifter with whiskey and Coke, and drank it down pretty quickly. I repeated that three times till the Rebel Yell was gone. I lay down and slept for about three hours, woke up and thought about who I would ask to our party the coming weekend.

      In 1992 I decided I really needed to lose weight… seriously needed to lose weight. I got into a program where the main part of the weight loss process was a medically supervised fast. I also began exercising regularly, mostly walking. But I also went to a local club and danced two or three nights a week. I wasn’t there to drink, as I was abstaining from alcohol during my fast. I wasn’t trying to pick up women, instead always dancing with a variety of the ones in attendance.

        But one evening I danced with “Rhonda” quite a bit and had a great time talking with her. When the place closed I walked her to her car and we talked more. The next evening we went out for the first time. She was pretty and bright and sexy and recently divorced and I was already head over heels.

         That was late in May and Rhonda and I dated on through June and into July. We had a couple of rough spots but went to some movies and out dancing a lot and spent one Saturday and overnight in Pittsburgh going to the Arts Festival and an oldies concert at the stadium. Of course with me on a fast “Rhonda” never saw me eat…unless she looked down.

          Then came Tuesday, July 14, my birthday. I had an early softball game and then headed to Rhonda’s where she had invited me to celebrate my day. Naturally birthday cake was out of the question, but she gave me a nice card and two or three gifts, including a telephone answering machine. As I opened it “Rhonda” told me that now when she called and I wasn’t home she could leave sexy messages. The rest of the evening shall remain private.

        Wednesday I went to work, came home for a time and hooked up the machine, then went to my weight loss class meeting. Arriving back home just before 9 I started to change clothes to go out dancing where I knew “Rhonda” would be. But my message light was blinking so I checked my first message ever on my brand new telephone answering machine. 20th Century here I come!

           Gosh! My first message and it was from ‘Rhonda” and……she……was……break……ing……up……with…… me.

     If Rodney Dangerfield had not already appropriated the phrase I would have said “I don’t get no respect”.



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