You know that a date is headed for disaster when . . .

You, my friend

have always been a selfless, trusting, and helpful guy. No matter how harsh some people treat you, it doesn't keep you from looking "on the bright side," and seeing the good in these heartless people and humanity in general. You are just that "one in a million" guys.

You had rather starve than to see anyone, even a rank-stranger not have anything to eat. You are so good-hearted and helpful you have been compared to Superman--always on the scene when people are down and need a helping hand. You are a true rare breed of men, my friend.

But, sadly, you are a mortal man

with mortal needs and desires. This just might be your only weakness and imperfection. You enjoy the company of a sweet female like all other guys. It's just a natural part of life. You respect, admire, and put women on a high pedestal all of the time, so what girl in her right mind would even think of saying no to you when you ask her for a date? I am not a soothsayer, but hopefully the answer is "none."

Then, like the planets all lining-up and the hand of fate moving your life in a one-hundred pecent good direction, it happens. You are headed home from work at the neighborhood mission and halfway house for people down on their luck, and you have stopped to get some gasoline, and "she" looks at you as she is filling-up her car and winks at you. The magic thing is she doesn't know you. And with that exciting-event, you are all smiles and so happy you believe that you are dreaming.

This girl who has just winked at you

is without a shadow of a doubt, "the" most-goregeous girl you have ever seen in your life. At at age 33, you have seen plenty--blonds, brunettes, redheads, but never asked them out because you are a man of high-standards, integrity, and morals. You have vowed to wait for just the right girl to come along, and friend, she has arrived and is standing across from you at the high-octane gas pump.

What a doll she is. Hair like silk, eyes that can hypnotize the moon, perfect skin, red, pouty lips and when the breeze blows by her, you are numb for how sweet she smells. You are so smitten you can hardly remember how much gasoline you pumped into your car. This girl is "that"e beautiful.

And on the sheer spur-of-the-moment, you break from candor and "go for it." This is the very first time in your life you have just acted spontaneous and did something without weeks of planning. Your heart is pounding through your chest, your mouth and throat are dry, but you just let your heat "do the driving," and introduce yourself, and before this angel can build a wall of resistance, you ask her out. What a move. What bravery. You are now a legend to your buddies.

And she says "yes," to going out with you

and for just a moment, you stand frozen in time. This has never happened to you. You head home, shower, dress in your finest, and head-out toward her home to pick-up your "dream girl," for what will be the night of your life.

When you arrive, you take a few deep breaths to calm yourself down. Then you ring her doorbell and she answers the door looking even hotter than she looked at the gas station where you met her just three hours ago. She gives you a small kiss on lips and lets you walk her to your car. You open the door for her and enjoy how she slides into your 1997 Toyota Camry and you are still not fully-believing that you are going out with a goddess like this girl.

But as soon as you are about a quarter-mile down the road, you feel as if something bad is about to happen. And it does. She snarls, "Why are you driving like an old man?" Her remark stuns you. But you always see the good in all people, so you think that she is just being playful, so you forget it.

You should not have forgotten this snarl because it is only one

Sign that this date is headed for disaster . . .

And here are more that are coming your way tonight.

CONTINUED BELOW PHOTO BELOW THIS SENTENCE

She then lights-up a cigarette. You gasp in disblief. She replies, "You got a problem?"

She then crushes-out her cigarette on your right arm. You are too afraid to squeal.

You are shaking with fear and she senses it and asks, "Are you a mama's boy?'

Before you can answer, she pounds the dash and growls, "Can this heap go any faster?"

You are troubled at her speakng in a man's voice, but you know she is not a transsesxual.

She buries her fist in your right side and giggles, "Just as I thought. A soft body."

You suddenly feel a need to scold her, but she is glaring a hole in you with eyes that resemble a panther in the darkness.

"Hurry, and get me a drink," she yells. You cannot believe that this is the angel from the gas station.

Then she slowly slides up next to you. You think that things are going to smooth-out, but s you let out a sigh of relief, she wraps her hands around your neck and says, "Give?"

She points at you and makes fun of how pale you look.

"I am starving you loser," she barks. Then takes the wheel from you and steps on the accelerator with her left foot. You are almost in tears, but you know that she will only laugh at you if you complain.

After a few minutes. She says, "Look at me," and hangs herself out of the car window flipping people off as you pass them.

You get a good beating from the Hell's Angels motorcycle gang that she flipped off in the middle of the traffic. But this time she doesn't laugh at you, she pours her bottle of perfume on you to wake you up. Then she laughs at you and says, "You are such a sissy smellng like White Diamonds, by Liz Taylor."

When you two arrive at an upscale restaurant, she runs ahead of you like a guy not worrying about her short dress that has rode above her underwear. You are tempted to hide your face in shame.

She kisses the waiter who greets you and embarrasses him when she asks, "Wanna sneak out back for a good time?"

Then she introduces you to the patrons, "Hey, yo! This is my gay boyfriend. I was desperate. What can I say?"

After she dances on the table and almost undresses, you talk her into eating a meal like a human being.

When the waiter brings your orders, she throws her baked potato in your face and says, "Did ya' see that, folks? What a lousy catcher."

You have lost your appetite and ask, "Do you just want me to take you home?" She snarls, "Are you a cheapskate? You are not jipping me out of a good dinner."

She gets up at this point and hits you a few times like professional boxer, Evander Holyfield. Wait a minute. I exaggerated. She hits you harder than Holyfield.

The crowd in the restaurant applaud and give her a standing ovation and ask the waiters if you and her are the entertainment for the evening.

She takes a bow, thanks the patrons, and says, "Watch this!" She pours your iced tea all over your head and laughs at you. You are nearing a meltdown.

You are shaking from your nerves being shocked. You pretend to eat to keep her quiet. Then you try to crawl out of the restaurant on your all-fours, but she catches you and yells, "Hey, folks. I just found a pet dog. Watch me as I ride him! Giddy-up, 'Buster!"

With your date now beyond disaster, you turn to her and ask, "I cannot beieve that you are the same nice girl that winked at me this evening at the gas station."

"Winked at you? Are you a fool? Oh, that must have been my twin sister, the "normal" one."