To celebrate The Hazards of Sex on the Beach release, I have fourteen amazing romance writers stopping by over the next few weeks to share their awkward or "hazardous" dating stories.
To continue the fun, today I have Addison Moore and Jennifer Probst!
Date from Hell: The Death Train
Once upon a time I dated a criminal. No really. I did. In fact, we dated far longer than I’m proud to say, but nevertheless it ended, badly, but thankfully. As far as criminals go he was pretty small time. I won’t list his crimes because, well, he hid most of them from me until after he got carted off to jail. He wasn’t alone in his above the law escapades. He actually came from a long line of criminals. His parents held up liquor stores for a living. (They were eventually caught, and I only found out about their exciting vocation after the fact.)
One night, I begged my sister for a ride to the wrong side of the tracks (literally) so that the criminal and I could go on a date. Once I got there he suggested we hit a restaurant about a block away and I was game. The only problem was there was literally a train stretching out for miles before us, isolating us from the fresh hot chimichangas we were suddenly craving. That’s when my own personal thug came up with a brilliant idea, we could simply crawl under the train to get to the other side.….Because when isn’t that a good idea? Of course he sensed my hesitation and was gentlemen enough to demonstrate by way of belly crawling the entire 15-foot girth of the mammoth beast of steel. When he was through he once again bounced up beside me with his newly muddied t-shirt, that lewd grin he was wearing all night already starting to thin, but I still wasn’t convinced. You see, I was wearing my new paisley mini skirt with matching mint green heels and wasn’t really looking forward to scuffing myself up. Not to mention the fact I spent an hour getting intimate with a can of extra-strength Aqua Net to get my hair to the right gravity-defying height. I was pretty sure the belly crawling or the chimichangas weren’t going to happen.
“Shit!” he bounced around like a rubber ball, full of frustration. “Just stop being such a baby, and do this.” He pulled at his hair. (No really, he did. Aside from being a small-time crook he had the emotional range of Yosemite Sam).
“No.” I barked right back. I was a lot of things but a belly-crawling pushover wasn’t one of them.
And then it happened. The train started to slither slowly, stealthily down the track, silent like a secret in the night.
“Holy shit.” I blinked in surprise, but mostly shock because had I listened to the douchebag I’d most likely be screaming my head off at this very moment while being sliced in half.
Suffice it to say things only went downhill from there with me and Yosemite. I decided if I hung out with him much longer I might find myself somewhere far worse than the bottom of a train—like jail, and, trust me, I don’t look good in orange. If life had a check list and “date from hell” was on it, I’d say we successfully marked it off that night. Lots of lessons were learned, (mostly by me), one of them being there’s not a chimichanga in the world worth crawling to.
About Addison Moore:
Addison Moore is a New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author who writes contemporary and paranormal romance. Her work has been featured in Cosmopolitan Magazine. For nearly a decade, she worked as a therapist on a locked psychiatric unit. She resides on the West Coast with her husband, four wonderful children, and two dogs where she eats too much chocolate and stays up way too late. When she's not writing, she's reading.
Feel free to visit her blog at: http://addisonmoorewrites.blogspot.com
Ah, awkward dates. I'm the Queen of them, unfortunately. Before I met my hubby, I kissed so many frogs, I was afraid I'd turn into one. From the many to choose from, I'll share this little treasure!
Back in my twenties, I was in the fabulousness of youth, had a rockin body (sigh) and finally scored a date with the guy who worked down the hall from me. All of the other employees were jealous, they'd had him on their radar a while! We ended up going to South Street Seaport in Manhattan, and caught early cocktails before dinner.
Umm, probably too early. I remember we had two gigantic drinks at the bar, had wonderful time, and that's when things began to blur.
Seems I got a bit tipsy. And when we made our way to dinner, I had three inch heels and a miniskirt (don't judge me). When we walked towards the spiral staircase, my foot slipped.
I tumbled down the entire flight of stairs.
In a miniskirt and heels.
I must've been loose from the alcohol, because I remember I jumped up when I hit the bottom, not hurt, and he was staring with this weird open look of horror at me from the top of the stairs. Needless to say, we went through the awkward "Are you okay? Do you need a hospital?" to "I'm fine, really."
The evening went downhill from there. Dinner was a mess of silence, and he never called again.
Guess stair tumbling was not a quality in his go to list!!
About Jennifer Probst:
Jennifer Probst wrote her first book at twelve years old. She bound it in a folder, read it to her classmates, and hasn’t stopped writing since. She took a short hiatus to get married, get pregnant, buy a house, get pregnant again, pursue a master’s in English Literature, and rescue two shelter dogs. Now she is writing again.
She is the NYT and USA Today bestselling author of The Marriage Bargain. She is published both erotic and sexy contemporary romance with Entangled, Decadent, Red Sage and TWRP. She has also written a children’s book, Buffy and the Carrot, co-written with her twelve year old niece, along with a short story, “A Life Worth Living.” Visit her website for more info!
Author Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2965489.Jennifer_Probst