From: rdragon@ix.netcom.com(***)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Nightmare Date (no sex)
Date: 19 Jul 1996 21:50:52 GMT

			    Nightmare Date

	"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times." It was
a time for gay celebration, and a time for solemn reckoning... A time
to live, and a time to die. It was Christmas, 1988.

	A month before, as the holiday tension and anticipation
started to build, the campus was plastered with flyers for the
Christmas semi-formal. After mid-terms and a paper, I was ripe for a
relaxing change of pace and decided to find a date for the semi-
formal, which promised to be quite exciting. I was looking forward to
a romantic evening with that special someone, and the thought of the
dance combined with the holiday spirit made my head spin.

	Eagerly, yet not without trepidation, I asked Kathy if she
would like an escort to the dance, and was kindly but firmly rebuffed.
She had "plans". I died a little then, inside. After being rejected by
Kathy, I lost interest in the dance, and the Christmas spirit seemed
to have evaporated. However, after much reflection, I decided I
really did want to go to the dance and enjoy the Christmas
festivities; I had earned a bit of relaxation.

	It took me awhile to pick another girl to ask to the dance, as
I had really set my heart on Kathy and was naively unprepared for her
rejection. I finally settled on Tracey, and it took all of the nerve I
had to ask her. Strangely enough, I somehow felt guilty as if I were
being unfaithful to Kathy. Perhaps sensing this on some subliminal
level, Tracey also declined to accompany me to the dance. For the
second time I had serious doubts about going to the dance, but yet
again my fun-loving nature prevailed over my skepticism and
reluctance.

	I asked Caroline, and Allison, and, with each succeeding
rejection, my resolve to go to the dance only strengthened; getting a
date for the dance became a battle of sorts. I asked Debbie, and
Monica, and Mary, and Jane. I euphemistically began to refer to the
rejections as the "Death Toll", and my friends would inquire about it
as the rising tide of casualties mounted. Lisa, Robin, Dale, Michelle,
Michele and Myshelle joined the Death Toll's ranks, as did Linda,
Laura, Lana, Liz and Lori. Katie, Julie, Beth, Georgia, Gina, Ginger,
Phoebe, Florence, and Faith destroyed my vision of the perfect
romantic evening. The Death Toll was now at twenty-eight, but Kerry
and Milne very graciously rounded the total up to an even thirty.

	It was now Friday night, THE Friday night before the dance on
Saturday evening. My resolve to go to the dance was as undiminished as
my frustration, and all thoughts of a romantic evening were so far
removed from my consciousness that it had degenerated into a kind of
game. The game was a bit masochistic; at this point I either wanted to
go to the dance, or by golly set an unsurpassable record for the most
rejections!

	After asking three more random, faceless girls whose names I
do not even remember, I ran into an old friend from High School who
now goes to Towson State University. He was with his girlfriend, who
is also a Towsonite and a member of the Omega Phi sorority. After
hearing of my predicament, she suggested that I "hop" a bus up to
Towson on Saturday morning and meet some of her sorority sisters, who
she felt sure would be eager to go to the dance, even on such short
notice. I agreed that it was worth a shot, and Saturday morning found
me on the M1 to Towson.

	Judy introduced me to several of her sisters, and eventually a
certain Fiona deigned to accompany me to the dance. Victorious, or so
I thought, I spent the rest of the day running around making
arrangements for a ride to the dance, getting Fiona a corsage, and
generally ebulliently bouncing off the walls, while Judy and Fiona
went shopping for a dress. My persistence had finally paid off!

	That evening, my friend Hal drove me up to Towson to pick up
Fiona. Expecting me to be only a few minutes in picking her up, Hal
stayed in the car and put on his hazard lights as he was illegally
parked in front of the dorm. I rushed in, and was completely surprised
by the crowd of sorority sisters that had assembled in the lobby,
waiting for me. Everyone started talking to me at once, and their
voices became a confusing jumble of sound. "There's been a problem."
"She's not quite ready yet." "Now there are two of them." "You get to
choose."

	I found Judy and asked her what was going on. Judy explained,
rather apologetically, that Fiona had been unable to find a dress that
fit, so Judy had asked Diane if she would like to go instead. Diane
had agreed, and now they were busy helping her get ready. Bewildered,
and wondering just what exactly I was getting myself into, I excused
myself and went to tell Hal what was going on. I had never met Diane,
and vividly remember thinking that they had set me up with some really
undesirable girl who couldn't normally get a date.

	Hal just started laughing, and tears started to well up in his
eyes, so hard and so long was he laughing. I could see the humor in
the situation, and had a brief flash of dread, half-expecting Alan
Funt to pop up and shout that I was on Candid Camera...

	After Hal's laughter had subsided to an occasional smirk and
chuckle, he locked the car and we both went in the lobby to wait.
After what seemed an interminably long interval, but was actually only
a few minutes, Diane made her entrance. I was speechless. I have never
been so shocked in my life, indeed would not have been more shocked
had she been stark naked. I was transfixed, for before me stood the
most perfect, the most exquisite girl I had ever seen.

	I quickly recovered my composure, pinned the corsage on
Diane's breast, and posed for a quick portrait with her before
leaving. Meanwhile, I could distinctly hear Hal softly mumbling "Oh my
God... Oh my God... " I think he was as stunned as I was.

	On the drive back to JHU to pick up Hal's date Noel, I tried
to strike up a conversation with Diane, but she surprised me by asking
where we were going. Apparently, she had been sleeping when Judy had
asked her to fill in for Fiona, and she had reflexively agreed without
thinking to ask what she was filling in for. This had apparently
occurred only a few minutes before I had arrived, which explained the
frantic preparations and the delay in getting Diane ready. She was
ready in remarkably short time, her makeup, hair, and dress being
attended to by several sisters at once.

	She seemed a bit disappointed when I told her it was a dance,
but I didn't attach much importance to this at the time. My mind was
still reeling over the recent events, trying to assimilate and
correlate them into some semblance of order.

	While Diane was truly a feast for the eyes, I soon found out
she was not as well endowed in other areas. She had no interests other
than watching her daily quota of soap operas, and wanted to drop out
of college to become a private detective. As I was scrambling to find
a foothold in some common ground, I couldn't help thinking that at
least she'll be fun to dance with.

	Meanwhile, Hal was suppressing what must have been a
monumental urge to laugh at my situation. I was squirming and
floundering helplessly in my attempts to make small talk. Exacerbating
the situation was the fact that I became increasingly tongue-tied as
her eyes captivated me. I was rapidly becoming a blithering idiot,
blabbering uncharacteristically altogether too much in the vain hope
of finding a topic she could discuss.

	Finally, we arrived at the dance, and I felt as if an enormous
weight had been lifted from my shoulders in anticipation of a relaxing
evening of dancing. However, it was not meant to be. As the band
started up, and I asked her to dance, Diane suddenly became very
uncomfortable. She started to explain that she was very shy about
these things, and that she felt foolish dancing. On top of that, she
asked if I had a cigarette... Diane was a smoker!

	At this point, I could have been knocked over by a feather;
the accumulated surprises of the evening were taking their toll. I
just sat down, dumbfounded, wondering what the heck I was going to do
for the next four hours. I couldn't dance with her, I couldn't talk to
her, and I couldn't very well just sit and do nothing either. If she
had only told me before we had entered the hotel, we could have spent
an evening walking around the harbor, or catching a movie, or
something, but now... for the second time in hardly as many hours, I
was speechless.

	We wandered around the hotel for a little while, admiring the
different ballrooms, and the splendor of the main lobby. Eventually, I
led her back to the dance and asked her once more onto the floor.
Again, she politely but firmly declined, and we just sat down at our
table.

	I watched everyone else dancing, and was sorely tempted a
number of times to just get up and dance alone. But, my sense of
loyalty dictated that I stay with Diane and try to make the best of a
hopeless situation. My friends, especially Hal, were quick to notice
that Diane and I weren't dancing, but were discreet enough not to ask.
Indeed we were the only couple not out on the floor.

	I don't exactly remember how I made it through the rest of
those four eternal hours; they had a certain dream-like quality. I
felt like a detached observer of this dance, this primitive social
ritual, yet at the same time I very much wanted to be involved. I
talked with Diane at length about anything and everything that popped
into my head, and asked her to dance several more times without
result.

	A few times, when I had simply run out of things to say, I
would simply gaze at Diane, drinking in her liquid beauty. This
refreshment left a bitter taste however, and I soon tired of it. I
contented myself then with observing the dance, the dancers, the
ballroom, counting the number of tiles in the parquet floor, and
basically stewing in my own juices.

	My reverie was finally, mercifully interrupted by Hal. It was
time to leave. We drove back to Towson in silence. Hal and Noel were
afraid to ask the unspoken question, and I was simply numb. Hal parked
outside the dorm as before, and I walked Diane to the front steps and
kissed her hand goodnight. The door closed, she was gone, and I was
alone in the night. As I walked back through the grounds to the car, I
felt like a zombie... the cold harsh wind whipping through the trees
was as insubstantial as a zephyr. I was emotionally and physically
completely drained.

	During the drive back to JHU, Hal and Noel said nothing,
although I sensed they very much wanted to. However, they seemed
content with my silence, and I really didn't want to regurgitate my
pent-up feelings. I thanked Hal for the ride, and exchanged
pleasantries with Noel before saying goodbye and going up to my
apartment. I entered the apartment quietly, not wanting to disturb my
sleeping roommate, and undressed for bed. I promptly fell asleep, and
dreamed I was falling into an abyss. The long nightmare had finally
ended.