My J-Date Misadventure

165 points

Taken from our friends at (With permission from Jared M. Gordon)

welcome to the sixth in the tumultuous series of what happens when good little Jewish girls go monstrously bad. Submitted for your approval, the delicate Clara (names have been changed).

JMG114: Hi! I'm Jared from J-Date.
ConfusedClara: hi
JMG114: So, you're a teacher, are you?
ConfusedClara: yea
JMG114: What do you teach?
ConfusedClara: yea i teach.
JMG114: Yes, but what do you teach? English? Social studies?
ConfusedClara: lol i teach!*

*Interlude: You're also stupid.

JMG114: I do voice-over work and write young adult novels.
ConfusedClara: omg! thats awsome!!!!
JMG114: Well, it's fun. I enjoy it.
ConfusedClara: u r so talented! omg!!! i don't beleve it!!!!
JMG114: Well, if I ever become successful, that's when to be impressed. Anyone can do what I'm doing right now.
ConfusedClara: let's meet up!!!!*

*Interlude: There's nothing wrong with a girl who knows what she wants, especially if she wants me.

JMG114: I'd like that. When would be good for you?
ConfusedClara: lol lets meet up!!!!
JMG114: Great. When?
ConfusedClara: r u like famous or somethin? lol

*Fast-forward>>> We're at a Chinese place in my home city!

Clara has long, raven-black hair, and she's visibly proud of it. Her face is pale, and her lips are noticeably red. She's actually rather attractive, but has a bit of a stuffy nose. We place our orders and she stares at me like a dumbass.

I clear my throat. "So, Clara, tell me about yourself. What do you like to do?"

She looks down hesitatingly. "Well, I should tell you up front that I'm not the best Jew."

"That's okay! I'm really not, either. I like it more for its traditions rather than its religious---"

"I sometimes go to church because I really don't know if being a Jew is right for me. Does that make me bad?"

I look at her as if she's just taken a dump on the table. "Um, I don't think so. Just do what makes you happy."

"I don't know what makes me happy. I'm still trying to find myself."*

*Interlude: The only thing more potentially dangerous than a girl is a girl who is trying to "find herself." They are like agents in the Matrix, and when you encounter one, you run. Unless you want some ass.

I reach across the table and tap her hand. "Found you! There you are!"

She smiles and sighs, "I wish it were that simple. I just got out of a serious relationship and I'm still kind of hung up on the guy."*

*Interlude: Run faster.

I nod empathetically and smile at her. "We've all been there. You should take as much time as you need to move past him, and if you're not ready to start dating yet, then---"

"No! I want to date, and I want to find someone to replace him."

"Replace him? That's a bit of a tall order. How can anyone replace---"

"He died."*

*Interlude: Run even faster. I don't care if you have to jump through a window to escape. You run.

I stare at her as if she's just dropped her pants and enveloped another human being with her ass. "He's---dead?"

She nods and shrinks back into her seat. I stammer, "Clara, how'd---what---I mean, we don't have to talk about this---"

She brightens and leans in. "It's okay! I want this to be a happy night, so let's talk about you."

"Are you sure?"

"Wait. What did I just say?"

"You want to talk about me."

"That's right! Go ahead."

"Okay, then. During the week, I . . ."

*Fast-forward>>> What to do after dinner? It's still early.

She has her arm around my shoulder, and I have my arm around her waist. It's too early for anything this affectionate, but never too early to bring her back to my place and tap it. Isn't that funny?

"So," she squeezes me, "What would you like to do?"

"Want to go watch a movie? I have a bunch back at my---"


*Interlude: Jackpot!

*Fast-forward>>> We're at my place! We're making out like wild animals!

She moans softly as I kiss down her neck. So far, aside from the dead-former-boyfriend reference earlier, this is going very well. I make it back to her lips and start to slide my hands under her shirt when,

"Oh, Steven . . ."

I pull away slowly. "What?"

She frowns. "What? What happened?"

"You called me Steven."

"I---what? Oh, yeah. I did. I'm sorry. That was the name of my boyfriend."

"Well Clara, I---"

"Before he died."

"Yes, so I gather. Look, if you still need to take some time, then you can---"

"Let's go out driving somewhere! Take me somewhere mysterious."


"Let's go!"

*Interlude: I like spontaneity more than most guys do. However, there's a fine line between spontaneity and insanity, as you will come to see.

*Fast-forward>>> We're parked in a corporate park! It's dark out! No one's around!

She leans into me and we start kissing again. Very ferocious, she presses her hands to the back of my head and rubs them up and down my back. She climbs awkwardly on top of me, and I hold her up as we smooch all over the place.

She whispers, "Ste---ven. . ."

I break away again. "Clara---"

"What?" she brushes some hair away from her pretty face, "What is it?"

"You said Steven again. It was soft, and it sounded like you were trying to disguise it. Maybe we should just end this."

"No! Steven!"

"What? I'm not---"

"Remember when you used to drive me out to deserted parking lots and you put your penis inside my lub-lub? Oh, Steven. . ."

She leans into me and hugs me tightly. I'm scared that she's going to kill me and that I'll end up as part of some new urban legend. I have to end this. She must be terminated.

"Oh, sweet Clara," I whisper.

She caresses my face. "Yes, my love?"

"I have an idea. Let's go to your house. I have the best idea."

She giggles frighteningly, "My parents are home, you naughty boy."

"I know, but there's something great I want to show you. It'll be amazing."

"You're amazing."

"Let's go."

Thoroughly convinced that I'm on a date with an escaped sanitarium inmate, I drive her back to her house and walk her to her door. She looks concerned. "You're not saying goodnight, are you? I still want to be with you."

I run my hand through her charcoal hair. It's a shame that someone so pretty has to be so fucking insane. "Of course not," I say, then I lean in as if to kiss her. She closes her eyes and moves in.

I take that moment to turn and run, run, run, back to my car. The next set of events occur in slow motion:

"Steven!" she screams, then flies after me, hands flailing above her head.

"Jesus Christ," I mutter as I jet down her front path and back to my car. All at once, I'm praying that I didn't lock my door and that I can jump in and escape.

"Steven! Come back to me! Don't leeeeeeeave!" She runs faster, with a hideous gleam behind her eyes. Faster, man, run faster!

Here's my car. I run around to the driver's side, almost tripping. She's less than ten feet away from me. My door's unlocked! I jump into the car, then remember that my side door doesn't lock except from the outside! Every second is precious! She's going to try to open my door!

I slide the key into the ignition and turn it. The car bounces for what seems like an eternity, then the engine kicks in. She smashes herself against my driver's side door and opens it, wearing the most demonic smile I've ever seen.

"Ste---ven," she sing-songly drawls, "I've got you!"

I turn to her and flip the car into drive. "Get this, bitch!"

I slam my foot onto the gas, and take off with her still grasping my open door. Her feet drag alongside the car as I accelerate. After about twenty feet, she screams, relinquishes her hold on the door, and I see her in my rear view, rolling down the street. I turn a corner, and she's lost to sight.

I park for about fifteen minutes on a nearby side street. Then, I turn back onto her road, just to make sure that she isn't dead on the pavement where I left her. She's nowhere to be seen, and I return home.


I blocked her on AIM as soon as I made it home. Steven would've wanted it that way.

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