Well, I went on a date with the waitress I've been flirting with. That went well. The plan for the date was to hit dinner then meet up with my friend, who was giving a lecture, so we could all hang out and play some poker. When I explained the details of the plan, she asked why I wasn't going to see Bob's lecture. When I explained that it was because I assumed she wouldn't want to go, she said she wanted to, and off we went. This would be the last enjoyable part of the evening. We chose to play poker because she said how much she loves playing, and it seemed like a safe and fun alternative to the old 'dinner and a movie' standby. I purchased her $20 buy-in, and away we went. Things started to get weird when she clearly didn't have a clue how to play poker. I'm not talking about a general lack of understanding of the strategy behind the game... I have no CLUE about how to effectively play poker. I'm referring to a lack of understanding that these flat rectangular things are cards, and the flat round things are chips that represent money. In short, I think she might have sustained a closed head injury that prevented her from understanding concepts that involved 2-D objects. Throughout the course of the game, she fielded or initiated several phone calls, during which she referred to me as her 'boyfriend' and us as a 'couple'. When did this happen? My friends, who know how I am, could not restrain their laughter every time the word 'boyfriend' passed her lips. I could barely restrain vomit and a cold sweat. I rarely let people I'm ACTUALLY dating call me boyfriend! I got tired and really wanted to end the date, so I went all in, called, and sunk my chips into the pot. I then adjourned to the couch that was located a few feet away and proceeded to watch the remainder of the game. A half hour later, Shaina went all in, got royally humped by the river card, and moved away from the table in my direction. I started to get up, assuming we were preparing to go, and she asked if I would buy her back in. For some reason, I did. I'm a glutton for punishment. An hour later, she managed to cook that $20, and it was now about 1 AM. I asked if she was ready to go, and she looked confused. She said that she had told her parents (with whom she lives?) that she wouldn't be home that night, so she wouldn't be able to get in the house until at least 8 AM, and, couldn't she just stay at my place? I said that I wasn't going to drive home, and she could crash on Bob's spare bed while I slept on the couch. She agreed and left the room and I reclined on the couch to watch the remainder of the game and talk shit about her. Minutes later, she asked if she could sleep on the other end of the sectional couch, instead of on the bed. Grudgingly, I agreed, put my head back, and started to drift to sleep. 'Jer!', Scott shouted, waking me from my near slumber. I looked up and glared at Scott, which is when I noticed that Shaina had changed her position to lie on my lap with her head in my crotch. Accepting the inevitable, I started to go back to sleep. 'Jer!', Scott shouted, halting my drift toward sleep. Glaring at Scott again, I noted that my pants were unzipped, and Shaina, 'in her sleep', was trying to fish out my equipment. In a room full of people. I made a point of re-zipping my pants and going back to sleep. Only to have Scott jar me from sleep again; and again; and again. More than a half dozen times, Scott would yell at me for drifting off and, upon waking, I'd see evidence of Shaina's attempts to get, literally, into my pants. It was only after the fourth or fifth time that I realized that the whole reason Scott was even waking me was to stop her onslaught. Un-amused. No means no, right? The next morning, I prepare to drop her off early, as I have a softball game. She expresses an interest in watching the game, so, for some reason that I cannot fully fathom, I bring her along. At softball, she tries to join in several conversations my friends and I are having, and comes off as so immature and uneducated that I want to crawl under a rock FOR her. I avoid going out for lunch after the game with the team so I can dump her off at her house. Hooray, the horror is over. Or is it? Today, when she calls, I explain that I'm too busy for dating, and, frankly, I don't think it's going to work out anyways, so I don't want to see her again. She says that she understands... then says that I should call her tomorrow so we can meet up and hang out... then hangs up before I can correct her. Umm... is that an option? WTF? Why do I get the winners, huh? I feel like I have to change my phone number, move, burn my clothes, put garlic cloves and wooden crosses up everywhere, pour a ring of salt around my bed, and hide my bunnies and boiling water to avoid this raving looney. But maybe I'll have sex with her first...