I broke my rule just once, for a girl named Ellen Moore. Ellen was about five years younger than I was, and she was VERY pretty. All the guys at work who knew her wanted very much to date her.

Mutual friends approached me about taking her on a date. The problem was, I knew she had asked them to ask me, and she was waiting in the next room for an answer. I tried to beg off, but they were so insistent that I finally relented.

“What does she want to do?” I asked.

“She wants to go see a movie,” they told me.

“What movie?”

“Bambi.”

“BAMBI!!??”

I picked her up on the appointed night. We were going to see my friends Paul and Cheryl before the movie. They had invited us for a turkey dinner.

The entire evening reminded me of the Rolling Stones song . . . “19th Nervous Breakdown.” First, in the car she talked incessantly. All I heard was blah, blah, blah. Finally, I interjected and asked if she liked turkey. (I once dated a girl who didn’t.) I was so surprised when she replied that she liked the meat well enough, but wouldn’t eat the stuffing, because she thought they just cooked the bird with its organs still in it! She didn’t realize that stuffing is mainly bread and spices.

When you’re going through hell, don’t slow down. We finished dinner with Paul and Cheryl and enjoyed more scintillating conversation. At last, it was time for Ellen and me to leave for the movie.

Outside the theater, I tripped on the sidewalk and ran smack dab into John Manson from work. He looked like Orlando Bloom, but sounded like Elmer Fudd. I was sure that on Monday he would tell EVERYONE he ran into Ellen and me, and I was just as sure that I would NEVER want to date her again.

We found our seats in the theater just in time for Bambi to begin. I sat and took as much of it as I could. Finally, after 45 minutes or so, I leaned over and told Ellen that I had a terrible headache, and I would have to take her home.

It was the only time I’ve ever used an excuse to ditch a date. After taking her home, with profuse apologies, I stopped at the Dutch Goose Tavern, to test my theory that beer is a better headache remedy than aspirin.

When we left the restaurant she just kept on going and going. I was so surprised when she shut the hell up that I looked over at her, tripped on the sidewalk and ran smack dab into that fool what played Harry Potter. I tried to soldier on, but she started up again..gushing about how great he was, but always critical. When she said ‘He looks like Orlando Bloom. Too bad he sounds like Elmer Fudd.’ I couldn’t help but laugh.

Perhaps she was getting to me a bit. I was clenching my jaw and bouncing on my heels. The way I felt..well it kinda reminds me of that Rolling Stones song….”19th Nervous Breakdown.” Because I thought I’d have about 20 more before I got away from her. Unfortunately that wasn’t happening, as she followed me like a tigress after a juicy steak. I kept sped up, then I tried to ditch her in a crowd, and finally I started to sprint..but who should be waiting for me at my front door but pinochiette the lioness. Ah well…I guess you can only dangle your steak for so long before somebody wants a bit so…well you know what they say..when you’re going through hell, you don’t slow down and until I left for work she never did.