June 04, 2007
the first pancake

there's a little joke amongst my friends that beginning to date again is like making pancakes; the first one is always wrong, too greasy or uncooked. progressively, they get better... but someone has to be the first pancake.

here is the story of my first pancake.

his name was peter. we emailed for a while through salon's personals, and he seemed nice, and non-threatening, and genetically male*, and perhaps funny. bonus: he once worked for the TOS message boards, which sort of makes me weak in the knees. <3 star trek! <3

anyway, we decided to meet at the farmer's market... and i had an easy out just in case in the form of pinksara, with whom i was supposed to attend a burlesque show later than evening. so i left work and set off for the market in my cute leopard print pedalpushers and pompadour. the way i figure it, i should wear something a little weird right off the bat so they know who they're dealing with. thus the peg pants.

i was ready to rumble.

i arrived at the market and as i got out of my car, i noticed the zipper in my pants was down. so i pulled at it- and completely ripped the entire top of my pants off. HULK SMASH! the waistband and zipper were just... gone. conveniently, i had a long green scarf with me, which i tied jauntily about my waist, and then i wandered sadly into the farmer's market.

i saw him from about 30 feet away.

there was nothing inherently wrong, but i knew it wasn't right. i hadn't been expecting much, which worked to my advantage. i figured, i'll stay an hour then make my escape. i sat down.

he was remarkably skinny. he seemed sort of judgemental of my tattoos- but purely out of ignorance. he was very midwestern, and yet he said "dude" alot. he was antsy, kept drumming his fingers on the table. there was a "ratatatatat" sound as he did so, seemingly louder than fingers should make. i continued the conversation, ignoring it.

the sound continued as well, ignoring me.

i noticed that with each eruption of noise, peter seemed to adjust his weight.

you've got to be kidding me. is he farting? continuously? and without shame? PLEASE GOD TELL ME THIS IS A JOKE AND CLIVE OWEN IS GOING TO COME SWEEP ME UP IN HIS ARMS AND WE'LL TURN INTO BIRDS TO FLY FAR FAR AWAY FROM FIRST PANCAKE PETER.

and then, quite suddenly, in the middle of the conversation, pancake peter exclaimed, "so anyway it was nice to meet you, i'll talk to you later!" and just as quickly as he could, he ran off into the night...

in the direction of the restrooms...

never to be seen nor heard from again.


so i'm pretty sure that as long as my future dates can refrain from shitting their pants (wombat, if you weren't already married, we'd have to work on this one) then the pancake joke will become truth. already it REEKS of truthiness...

or perhaps that is something else altogether?



20 Comments:

Blogger yournamehere said...

I've never shit my pants during a date, therefore I'm a better catch than Paul. Hooray for small victories!

Blogger Auntie Sassy said...

Maybe he found some prunes at the farmer's market before he found you.

Big Mistake Pancake.

Blogger Laurie Ann said...

This is one of my all-time favorite stories. I love a good "Shat himself" story.

Blogger Spinning Girl said...

This had me laughing OUT LOUD. Poor F.P.P. maybe he has IBS and it acted up out of nerves?

Also, how was he being judgmental of yoyur tattoos? Actually saying that he didn't like them? That he can't believe you have them?

At least you didn't have to escape; his overacive bowel did that work for you.

Blogger Nick said...

If I had been present when you ripped your pants, I would have said "smooth move, Ex-Lax" - and then later it would have been even funnier.

Blogger Stephieface said...

Table drummers will never ever be nearly as cool as table dancers.... just saying.

Blogger Ćœbermilf said...

Maybe he's so skinny because everything goes right through him.

Your pants must've really scared him.

Blogger Libbysmom said...

ok...Who cares about FPP...I am new here and I want to see your tattoos..I love me a good tattoo...come on.

Blogger Knitty Kitty said...

oh dear, maybe thats why the farmer's market was a good idea cause that way he could blame the smell on bad fruit.

Blogger robiewankenobie said...

thank goodness i snatched up the leon after he had learned not to shit his pants. i think i'll keep him. i'm too old for pancakes without syrup.

also? whyfore i only get invited after three entries. what gives? did i offend? or was your list of supah sekrit peeps missing some rwkn goodness?

yes i have on pants. no shirt, though.

Blogger jiggs said...

Sometimes fancypants aren't built very sturdily.

Also, A-team and booty both want to be added to the new golden state reading group.

Blogger Tim said...

it's not too often you can rip your pants apart on a date and be the less embarrassing one.

Blogger brookelina said...

This beats the hell out of all three of my horrific blind dates. And I will never go on a blind date again. Ever ever ever.

Ever.

Blogger MonkeyGurrrrrl said...

Dating sucks. Dating in LA sucks lemons. I hope the pants can be fixed; I'm pretty sure the pancake can not, but we're all better off that way.

Blogger Lisslo said...

Drat. Tim said what I was thinking. Guess I'm unoriginal today.

Blogger me said...

that was delightful.
i feel so much better about my first dates.

Blogger Bonanza said...

Wow.

Blogger Tits McGee said...

Oh, my head, baby.

I fucking love you so fucking much.

Let's smoosh boobies.

Blogger Christina said...

Congratulations.

That was officially the greatest first date of all time.

Blogger karla said...

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

Look, at least it's not to late to turn lesbian.

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