The Night of Shame: Dating Stupid McLoserPants, Part II!

Sunshine_AZ gives us the much-anticipated follow-up to her hilarious post about a crush gone awry! When we last left off, she'd just gotten home from a pretty horrible date—and received a totally unexpected text from the guy who took her on it!—Sparkitors

"We should do this again sometime :)"

I stared at the text in a bit of a daze. What? Why would we want to do it again? Wasn't it awkward enough the first time? Did he just enjoy being in the presence of a female? Did he actually like me and was just too shy to talk to me? Did he lose a bet? I responded with a friendly but generic "yeah we should! :) Night."

I did not hear from that boy for almost a week. For an entire six and a half days he left me in an abyss of 3x5 cards, APUSH notes, and chewed popsicle sticks. He had never texted or talked to me before The Date, and in this seemingly never-ending silence I assumed that he had forgotten me and life would resume to the dry, dull, dumbness of every day. But alas! He struck again at the most inopportune moment!

MSL (Mr. Stupid McLoserpants, in case you didn't get that.): "Hey ;)"
Me: "Hi!"
MSL: "What are you doing?"
Me: "Homework. I have a sea of 3x5 cards to fill out with a textbook of terms. I'm living in my own personal hell. Hell has become my room."
MSL: "Oh. Want to take a break?"
Me: "I guess. Haha I think I can talk and write at the same time though..."
MSL: "I'm coming to pick you up."

HUH? Red alert! Red alert! *sirens going off*

Me: "What?"
MSL: "I'll be there in five minutes."

TWENTY THREE NINETEEN! TWENTY THREE NINETEEN! THIS IS NOT A DRILL! REPEAT THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!

I had been doing crazy people homework all week! I hadn't showered in 42 hours! My hair had not been brushed in twelve! I looked like a wildebeest! A wildebeest, I tell you! I ripped a brush through my hair, slapped on some mascara, put on some jeans and ran up stairs....

Only to run back down stairs to put on a bra and some deodorant. And some more deodorant. And a little bit more. And some perfume.

I took the stairs two and half at a time (the half was actually me tripping up the stairs. . .), raced towards the door and skidded to a halt. Oh the horror. My 7-year -old sister had answered the door.

Sister: "Who are you?"
Stupid: "I'm Charlie. Is your sister here?"
Sister: "Which one?"
Stupid: "Elaine."
Sister: "I don't know. I just got home from my ballet class. We learned all our positions. Wanna see?" *proceeds to show him first through fifth position* "I'm gonna be a ballerina when I grow up. Are you Elaine's boyfriend?"
Stupid: Uh...

She turned and saw me. In a small wiggle of her finger, she motioned for me to bend down and hear what she had to say. In a loud whisper she said "Elaine! A Hunk-A-Hunk-Of-Burnin'-Love is here!"

At this point I intervened. "Are you ready to go? Let's go." I grabbed his arm to head out the door. We escaped! (That's really saying something. My family is like the Adams Family, Full House, and the Bennets from Pride and Prejudice all rolled into one suburban household.)

We drove in silence for an uncomfortable eternity. Finally he said, "So what do you want to do?"

What? What does he mean, what do I want to do? He's the one who kidnapped me out of nowhere. I wasn't even cute! Thank goodness it was dark...

"I know," He said. "We should go trash-bagging."

Trash-bagging?

He proceeded to explain "trash-bagging" and all of its merits. Apparently you stick a friend in a trash bag with holes cut in the bottom so their feet can stick out, leave them on someone's front porch and ding-dong-ditch the doorbell, so that when someone opens the door all they see is a bag of trash... that gets up and runs away! Har har har so funny!

Was this the bet he lost? Was his whole master plan to leave me in a trash bag on someone's doorstep? What kind of sick joke was this?!

He suggested picking other people up to do stuff with us, to which I nodded. Other people would be good. More witnesses.

We picked up his friend Drew, who looked kind of like a viking, and was carrying a guitar and a ukelele. (Who goes around with a guitar AND a ukelele?) He sat in the back and started talking to Stupid, and Stupid talked back, leaving me once again ignored. I suggested we pick up my friend who lived close by, and I texted her with "If you love me you will put on some shoes and grab your wallet."

She loved me. Thank Lori Loughlin. And when she got in the car, she said it was too cold for trash-bagging (yes! Yes it was too cold! Excellent point!) and suggested we do something else. So we went bowling.

Which was probably his real master plan because guess what? I bowl like an elephant. With arthritis. On Nyquil. I'm not kidding. Stupid McLoserpants put up the bumpers for me and they didn't even help! My ball just bounced right over them and got a spare in someone else's lane! I kind of died inside. Or maybe peed my pants a little. Either way... I was mortified.

The score looked something like this: Charlie: XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Drew: 82 73 X 1-  7-  9- X X 19 45 8- 4- 3-
Annelise: 1- 1- 56 1- 1- X 1- 1- 91 1- 52 1-
Elaine: - - - - - - - - - 2- - - - - - - - - 3 - - - 1

When the bowling was over, I felt like a chewed-up noodle, and silently pleaded for the night to be over. But the Fates apparently had new scissors and they wanted to play. So Mr. Stupid McLoserpants suggested picking up even more people!

And they were his friends. His gooney friends. Larry, Moe. and Curly. They were very apologetic about interrupting our "date."  Well obviously if we picked you up it wasn't going well anyway, stupid butts!

We parked at a park (is that why they're called that?) and Stupid put his roof down. (It was fuh-reezing! What kind of imbecile does this?) Then Drew and the Three Stooges sat around and started playing his string instruments. A little cliche, but a nice distraction. That is until Stupid piped in "Hey, Elaine can play the guitar, can't you Elaine?"

When did I ever tell this boy I played the guitar? I don't play the guitar! Why is he handing a guitar to me?! Did I lie and tell him I play the guitar to make myself sound cooler in one of my lame attempts at conversation? Why don't I listen to myself when I talk?!

"Um... no thanks. I'd rather hear what you guys can do." I said diplomatically.

So... they showed me what they could do. They all started singing and playing the instruments and It. Sounded. Sexy.

Until I listened to the words. Then it was not sexy. It was a song about.... well. What would a bunch of teenage guys write a song about in the middle of the night at a drunken sleepover? Yes, that's it.

Annelise and I just kind of looked at each other, not sure what to make of the song, but when it was over she clapped politely, so I followed suit. Then my lovely, angelic friend announced that it was late and she needed to go home. Drew and the Stooges said they wanted to stay there and sing and that Stupid could just pick them up on his way back. So it was just Stupid, Me, and Annelise in the car on the way to her house. Once again, it was awkward silence. She texted me from the back seat.

Annelise: This is possibly the weirdest night of my life.
Me: You're telling me.
Annelise: Did he really just randomly come by to take you bowling?
Me: Yeah. And I don't think this night could get much worse. Oh my gosh that was so awful!
Annelise: Hahaha I know!

After dropping her off at her house, desperation set in and I told Stupid that it was almost past my curfew (Ha! I don't have a curfew!) and I needed to go home.

In the driveway at my house, Stupid asked if I wanted to go to a bonfire the next night. I said "Sure" while I was searching the floor in the dark for my wallet. I felt his hand grab my arm, and it caught me so off guard that I sat up really fast and hit my head on something hard...which was his face.

I stared in horror, stuttering various forms of an apology as he held his bleeding nose in pain.

"Das Fide. Good Dight." He said.

I tripped out of the car, a horrible feeling of failure and the worst form of embarrassment brewing in my stomach.

After I got in the house (which was not locked this time, Praise Zeus!) I raced to my room and pulled the covers over my head, face-palming over and over again in my mind.

After a while I could feel the first sensations of sleep pulling me away from this miserable life into the sweet caresses of my unconsciousness—but the Fates would not have it! My phone lit up again, the ominous buzzing filled my silent room.

It was from him.

"Haha I guess I should have warned you I was going in. See you at the bonfire tomorrow. Good night."

WHAT?!

Wait, does Stupid mean he was "going in" for a KISS? Why does he keep asking Sunshine on dates if he is so TERRIBLE AT DATES? We are confused, but we WANT MORE OF THIS.

Related post: Stupid McLoserPants: The Saga Begins