Out On A Date PT4

Out On A Date PT4


I've always liked Charles Bronsons' movies. The guy couldn't act his way out of a wet paper bag, but then he didn't have to. His films are always enjoyable.

You're probably wondering what that has to do with dating. Well it seems Mr. Bronson & I, though we never met, both shared a dislike in a mutual aquaintance.

As stated in Out On A Date Pt1, I dated his neice a couple of times. What little she told me of her famous uncle in our brief (very) relationship was they didn't like each other very much. Understandable. After having been abruptly dumped & figuring out why MUCH later, I can see why he didn't care much for her. Scheming little ...

Being Plan B would not have been so bad if it happened Plan A didn't work out for her BEFORE we started dating, catching her on the rebound so to speak. Being Plan B while she was STILL WORKING on Plan A is ... well ... sucks. Especially if A "pays off" & there's no need for B, thus getting dumped.

It's been quite a few years & I know I shouldn't be harboring any resentment over it. Live & learn as they say ...

Sometimes though, I still get to thinking ... there could be no better punishment for her than to have her forced to watch ALL her uncles' films back to back for eternity ... with me sitting right next to her ... enjoying the show.

"Pass the popcorn hon."

Yeah ... I'm full of myself ... And lovin' it!


Out On A Date Pts 1, 2, 3 Girls n' Guns.

Go to Jays' Tee Vee blog main page here.

Out On A Date Pt2

In looking for Ms. Right (And usually running into Ms.
Goodbar!) you gotta kiss a few toads. BLECH!

Out On A Date Pt2

It was the eighties & I was in New Jersey getting my act/career in the technology field together. Not having time or inclination for the bar scene & other conventional venues, I decided to try dating services. I do not advise dating services or personal columns for the lovelorn. Personal experience has made me look askance of them.

It started out more than well enough, at least on the first "date". I got her phone number & contacted. The usual conditions were set. Meeting on neutral ground (A public place, in this case a restaurant.), time & date, & we'd go Dutch (That way no one feels obligated.). On arrival, what awaited me was ... Jackpot!

A tall, drop ... dead ... gorgeous ... redhead (I have a "thing" for redheads!). I'm not exagerating when I say she was centerfold material. Said she was into aerobics & that was not too hard to believe. A goddess. She was that good looking. I still remember her name.

The meeting/meal went well enough. Her personality certainly matched her looks & I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I even kept my tongue from hanging out. At least I think I did. Most of the time.

I think the only rocky spot was when she talked about dancing. I mentioned I wasn't a dancer & she insisted that anyone she's with has to dance. Just a couple sentances & at the time I thought "No big deal".

A couple days later, I did a follow up call & ... well ... She said she was still hooked on an old boyfriend & decided not to pursue other possibilities. If that was true, both he AND she were fools but I doubted that. I've had a lot of experience with the old brush off. Good thing I'm into schandenfreude. More than one has dumped me only to get married & divorced later.

So it didn't bother me. "After all," I thought. "If the first one was THAT good looking, I can only guess what future ones would be like." WRONG! More on that later ...


Out On A Date Pt.1 here.

Go to Jays' Tee Vee blog main page here.

Boyfriends' Third Degree

Low cost life insurance. Great for home defense & other social situations.
Hey. Sometimes an ax handle just won't do.

                                                Boyfriends' Third Degree

                                                                  by

                                                                      Jay Agan

      Entrepreneur, military man, cold warrior, professional, movie buff. Insurance adjuster by profession (Shooting instructor/range officer on the weekend.) he set me straight on an urban legend. He was also a family man.

      Most fathers of girls have gone through the "man to man" with any new boyfriends the kids' brought home to meet the folks. Some have done the third degree in the living room or kitchen. Others (As he has.) conducted it in the basement/garage workshop.

      His was a little different. During the "procedure" he would show off only one of his "power tools".

      The Rossi "coach gun" (Of the type known as the "Lupera" or "Wolf Killer".) is an intimidating thing. Side by side 20" double barrel 12 guage with external hammers. While talking "with" the young suiter, he'd take it out & clean it ..... wether it needed it or not. With the heady scent of Hoppes #9 permeating the air, the conversation was paced by the in & out of the cleaning rod & would go something like this:

      "So ..... (swish, swish) ..... What's your name ..... (swish, swish)?

      "-------- -------"

      "Where'd you meet my daughter ..... (swish, swish) .....?

      "------- ------- ------- ...... (sweat, sweat)."

      "Where ..... (swish, swish) ..... are you taking her tonight ..... (swish, swish) .....?

      "------ ----- ----- (shiver, whine) ..... "

      "Who ..... (swish, swish) ..... are your parents ..... ?

      "----- ----- ----- ----- (shake, quake) ....."

      "What ..... (swish, swish) ..... do they do for a living .....?"

      "----- ----- ----- ----- ----- (snivel, whimper) -----"

      "You ..... (swish, swish) ..... working?"

      And so it went until .....

      "Have her ..... (Looking through the barrels.) ..... home by eleven."

      As they'd leave, he'd tell his little girl, "be good or be careful."

      Meaning, YOU'D BETTER BE GOOD!

      I understand some Italian fathers have a variation that goes something likes this:

      "I donna know wotta is a' you doin', but Iva  pretty good a' idea. Youse cuts it out! Capiche?"

      "Oh daddy!"

      The latest this fellows' daughter ever got home was 10:45.

      "Why are you driving so fast!? You almost ran a light!"

      "If I don't get you home in time, your dad's gonna SHOOT me!"

Article copyright © 11-29-2011 Jay Agan

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Some Bad Movie Experiences

Some Bad Movie Experiences
     
by
             
Jay Agan


Military school, late 60s, rec hall, Wednesday night. Don't let nuns pick your movies! This one was particularly cruel & unusual. Carusel turned me off to musicals forever. We had a choice either watching this ultra-turkey or study hall. Should have taken study hall. (Sing & dance! Dance & sing! la la la la laaaah! Diddley dee! diddley doe! La la la la laaaah! Aaaaargh!) All that krap and hardly a story to be found.

Another military school vignette. This time the Vatican I types scored right but I only came to appreciate this flick later in life. AIPs' Pit & the Pendulum. It moved kinda slow for me until "Uncle Vince" and the gang disinterr the corpse. Hit me like a ton of plutonium bricks! Later that night & early morning, I'm surrounded by a hundred other snoozing cadets & I can't sleep! I KNEW Elizabeth was waiting out in the dark to get me!

High School Social(ist) Studies assignment: Watch West Side Story tonight. For some reason our educators & zampolits had the idea this would raise our conciousness about inner city "culture". From the moment of the first pirouette in the first "fairy fight", I knew something was terribly wrong with this movie. I was actually grateful for the commercial interruptions as I could take frequent bathroom breaks. This garbage had me going at both ends. (Leonard Bernstien, I absolutely loathe you. Tonight! Tonight! Wah! Wah! Wah! Wah! Tonight! Wah! Wah! Wah! Wah! Wah! Waah! Waah! Waah! Waaaah! Tonite!Toooooniiiiite! TOOOONIIIIITE! Geeze! Holy stinkin' krud!)

Bad movie experience: Seeing a scary movie with a certain girlfriend. Fun movie experience: The same scary movie with that same certain girlfriend. 1979. Had been going with this young lady a few weeks. It didn't even cross my mind how she would react to a horror flick.

Phantasm. Right arm around her ladyship. Everything smooth sailing. Until the floating, bladed, steel ball smacks into the hapless extras' face & starts drilling, blood shooting out the back.

Pain. Deep, dull/sharp, shooting, excriuciating agony in my right shoulder. Through my watering eyes I could see she had rammed her forehead into my shoulder in an effort to look away from the screen. Kid had a head like a rock! Strong too. Try as I might, I couldn't pry her noggin off. If it weren't for the sensation of needing some bones set, I would've enjoyed this. Shoulder hurt for over a week. I think this is why I have arthritis in that shoulder today.

On later outings, she knew not to react so violently. She'd strain the movies through her hands over her face. Said she hated these films but always insisted on seeing them.

I remember an epic arguement we had over a flick that wasn't so much a horror film as it was a horror. I had seen Cruising with a friend the week before. She to had already seen it & insisted on seeing it again. No way. There are some things I won't do for love.

I really miss her.


Article copyright © Jay Agan

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