Dating Disasters in the 40s

Who wouldn't want to date this face?!

My 86-year-old Dad and his good, good friend, Shirley just left to head back home after a visit.

I'm missing them already.

So today's post, in honor of my Dad, and because I have 'dating' on my mind, will be about . . .

Dad's Worst Date, Ever!!!

This should be fun . . .

Dad was home from college for the Christmas vacation in the winter of 1946.

He'd been working very hard.

At least that is what he told me.

Moving on . . .

He was ready for some fun.

What could be better than a dance?

With girls.

He gussied (real word - I looked it up) up and drove to Raymond, a nearby town.

The band was hot (my word) and the girls were cute.

He was in heaven.

One young lady (hereafter known as The Girl) particularly took his eye.

He asked her to dance.

The Girl agreed.

They danced.

He asked her again.

Again she said yes.

They danced.

This went on for some time.

Finally, he asked if he could call on her.

This was the 40s. Guys said things like that . . .

The Girl was most agreeable to that suggestion as well.

He floated home.

A couple of days later, he drove out to see her.

Now, I should point out, here, that it was only about twenty minutes from Dad's family home to The Girl's family home. When the conditions were good.

As in - during the summer.

But it was winter.

Anything goes.

Dad reached the girl's house just as a blizzard hit.

That was okay with him. He was warm and safe.

And he had The Girl totally to himself. (Well, totally to himself if one didn't count her parents and siblings. Siblings friends . . . you get the picture.)

They enjoyed a few minutes of conversation.

Things were going well.

Then, the doorbell rang.

Dum, dum Duuuum!

Actually it probably sounded more like," Bing-bong!"

But that would be boring.

And totally not-ominous.

The story needed ominous-ness.

On we go . . .

It was another guy.

And from the ensuing conversation, one who was already close friends with The Girl.

For the remainder of the evening, the two of them tried to engage The Girl in conversation.

And glare unobtrusively at each other.

Finally, the evening drew to a close.

It was time to leave.

Then, the ANNOUNCEMENT.

I capitalized this because it's important.

The Girl's mother announced that the blizzard had grown so bad that she would allow neither of the suitors to leave.

The two of them would have to spend the night.

Okay, not so bad.

Together.

Umm . .

In the same bed.

Yikes?!

It was the most uncomfortable night Dad had ever spent (including his time serving in the army).

At daylight, he peeked out the window.

The storm had blown itself out.

It was the best sight of his life.

No need to even stop to dress as he'd not bothered to undress.

In fifteen seconds he was out the front door.

Leaving an astonished The Girl's mother with a batter-coated spoon half-raised in greeting.

Dad left in such a hurry that he even beat the snowplows.

He didn't care.

The sooner he made it home, the sooner he could begin to forget the whole thing.

And 65 years later, he's beginning to.