And then there are the dates that just...don't turn out as magically as imagined.
Picture us, if you will, setting out on the gloriously cool evening with smiles plastered to our faces and a pep to our steps.
We were heading to a local bar called Mudfords-a happy place of $2.50 beers free pool. We'd been planning this date for ages.
We chatted, we laughed, we held hands....all the way to Mudford's front door which stubbornly wouldn't open.
And that's when we realized the OPEN sign was off and despite our poundings, howls and creepy looks through the front window, the restaurant would not be OPEN for us that night.
We were undaunted and embraced the spontaneous idea of playing bingo in a nearby town. So a walk back to the car and a drive away it was.
Date night was OPEN for business still.
We've never played legit BINGO before and our hopes were sky high for the prospects.
Sky.High, folks.
....
This state of blissful euphoria lasted approximately 32 minutes-the length of the drive and for just enough time for the lady behind the bingo counter to shake her head slowly.
"You'll have to wait until the next game. We start selling tickets for that at 10."
It was 8:17 p.m.
"The first game started at 7, you should have been here to buy tickets about 15 minutes before that."
We begged, we batted our eyes, we practically cooed...okay, we did coo. But we could not charm our way into the earlier game, even though we were willing to take our losses.
So back to the car went we.
There is only one thing to be done with a night like this and I think we all know what it is:
ice-cream and plenty of it.
We headed back into Brantford and turned on the tunes. Talking seemed like too much effort.
It wasn't until we spotted the blue-hued signs of the resplendent Dairee Delite that we felt a slight lifting of our hearts. Very slight, but very real.
And then, as baby Jetta crossed the last few meters to the heavenly haven of Delite, we felt back into our seats with a collective gasp.
(Did the latter actually happen? Who can say, folks. But whatever happened-it wasn't pretty.)
We were faced with the most common DD problem of all: The Line.
Even at 9 p.m. it was long and daunting.
We of all people know that the wonders of DD were worth the arduous wait in The Line (#firstworldproblems), but could we be bothered?
With low hearts, we drove away.
We call it our date night fail, but we laughed a lot, had hours together and used a dinner's worth of gas money on all our kilometers.
So I will leave you to it-was it, in fact, a fail after all?
Methinks
perhaps
it was not.
What was your most ridiculous date experience?