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Great Misadventures In Dating
Tim Napalm
December 14, 2008
TIM NAPALM used to write for several rock magazines under his real name, Tim Stegall, but he got over that. He's primarily known for leading two bands: '90s Austin punk rockers The Hormones and New York City glampunkers Napalm Stars. He is based once again in Austin and has launched his solo career under his name, Tim Napalm.. And yes, he is still single. But no, he no longer dates fairies.
"Dates from Hades," you say? Y'know, there's been more than one occasion when I've been out with a lovely lass, and things have taken such a turn for the horrendous, I've thought, "One day, I will look back at this and bust a pancreas laughing. But right now, I wanna know where my goddamned parachute is!" All a man or woman can do at these moments is white-knuckle your way through and hope you don't lose a limb or dignity in the process.
The two most entertaining happened within days of one another. For some reason, at this one phone job I held (seeing as how punk rock doesn't exactly pay unless you're Green Day), I was very popular with the young ladies who all worked there. There was this one really gorgeous girl, a striking Latina with amazing cheekbones whom I used to sneak off with on breaks to smoke weed in her car. She always had a nice little smile for me, always really charming, loved good music and books and a lot of the same films. We found ourselves frequently making jokes at the expense of our bosses, and returning to work in a patchy green fog. The girl was just badass. We were hitting it off so well, I invited her out to a show I was going to one Friday. She said yes, and we made plans to meet up there. So I show up at the club (the charmingly-named Bates Motel), and she greets me...and introduces me to her boyfriend.
The guy looked like a cop: Stocky, Village Person mustache, short hair, a good ten-to-fifteen years older than either me or the girl. There was a lot of nervous, embarrassed eye contact and silent communication between the girl and I until he finally left for a restroom run.
"Your boyfriend?!"" I hissed at her.
"I'm sorry!" she pleaded. "He lives out of town! I didn't know he was coming in this weekend - he surprised me!"
"So, what do we do NOW?!"
"I don't know! Try and play it cool? He said he wanted to meet you, I talk about you so much."
"YOU TOLD HIM ABOUT ME?!!"
"Shhh! Keep it down!"
I eventually hooked up with another girl I knew at the bar and wished my two dates well as I left with my other friend. Bates Motel was a little too claustrophobic for me that night.
Then there was this other girl I worked with at the same office who looked like some odd cross between a flower child and a stripper. Don't ask me to explain it. It just was.
She seemed pretty cool, and very different from the first girl: Blonde, Fifties sex bomb curves, seriously top heavy, just oozing sex, despite the Earth Mother fashion sense. She didn't seem like the brightest bulb in the pack to be honest, and there was some weird mystical bent going on with her I couldn't quite decipher. But there was definite chemistry flowing. She was dropping hints left and right of a distinctly carnal nature, and even volunteered to patch up one of my sweaters. (Mind you, the sweater was purposefully ripped and reassembled with safety pins. It was my tribute to Johnny Rotten, what can I say.)
Finally, enough was enough. It was time to get together. So I invited her to coffee. I was pretty excited about getting together with her. Until she came to pick me up...with her six month old baby.
After we got to the coffee shop, she explained she was estranged from the baby daddy…Who was the King Of Neptune.
“Um, excuse me?”
“Yes,” she smiled, “he's the King Of Neptune. He's back home now, so I'm free to date.”
She then explained that she, herself, was a fairy. I told her I didn't mind if she was into women, too. But apparently, that wasn't what she meant. It seems she was some distant relation of Tinkerbell. She was borne of a daffodil. In some garden in Ireland.
From that point in the conversation, I didn't have much to say. She sure had a lot to say, though. About what, I'm not sure. After hearing about the child's parentage and her own background, everything she said started to sound a bit like every adult in the Charlie Brown TV specials: This indecipherable drone. How I disguised my surely glazing eyes and feigned the proper interest, I will never know. I must be a hell of an actor.
Needless to say, I made it a rule from that day forward to never date co-workers again...
