The results are in! But before I announce the winners of Mitchum’s Sticky Situation Sweepstakes, I’d like to thank everyone who took the time to share their stories. I received over 60 entries (who’d have thought deodorant could be so inspiring?) and it’s taken forever to select to the best of Facebook entries and the best of the blog entries so if you weren’t chosen this time, don’t worry: I’ll definitely be holding more contests in the future.
First up, we have three honorable mentions.
Linda (who shared an awkward confession from her mother-in-law concerning her husband’s high school sweetheart), Wendy (whose eHarmony date committed himself after she refused a to grant him a second date) and Brazilian (who accompanied a lady-friend home after a few dates only to find himself hiding in the closet and sneaking out the bedroom door when her father came in to say “goodnight”). You can read their fabulous stories and many more here.
And now, without further ado, the winners of the Mitchum Stickiest Situation Sweepstakes and a $150 gift certificate to a department store of their choice are Fiercely Yours and NewYorkCliche. Congratulations, ladies!
Here are their stories:
My stickiest situation: Discovering the guy I was seeing had left his diary (yes, he kept a “diary” and called it such) in his open bag on my bedroom floor, I was faced with an inescapable: to read or not to read? I couldn’t help myself: I read. I read and discovered juvenile accounts of how he had cheated on me and then lied to my face for weeks. As the words sunk in, my entire body was overcome with shock- and for me that means a cold, clammy sweat. I felt absolutely disgusting -from betrayal and from sweat. A shower, deodorant, and my best “remember what I look like naked? You’ll never see that again!”-outfit later I was out the door. Off to confront the bastard and retrieve my favorite pair of expensive wool long-johns I had lent him that morning. I’ve never had a more stressful confrontation but it didn’t last long. I got my long-johns back, made him cry, and never saw him again. He left the country not long after and I haven’t seen him since- the happiest ending I could hope for.
Valentines Day 1994
I worked double shifts at my minimum wage job for two months so I could arrange the “most perfect romantic date ever.”
The plan: To send my new love interest on a treasure hunt where the clues would eventually lead her to a fine Italian restaurant. There she would find me sitting with three-dozen red roses and an oversize stuffed monkey embracing a heart that read, “Be mine.” After dinner, we would walk outside to find a horse and carriage waiting for a romantic trot around the city…happily ever after, right?
Instead: My date shows up with her X and her X’s new girlfriend. Table for three (including monkey) turns to a round table of five. I’m stressed because I don’t know who is going to pay for the additional meals. After desert, The X offers to pay for us all and I feel angry, nice show-up. I offer polite debate not wanting to pay anyway and concede.
Needing a break, I tell the gang I’m taking monkey and roses to the car and will meet them outside. My horse is right on time so I take the roses to the car and then wait in buggy with monkey, happy to finally be alone with my date.
When she sees the carriage she is ecstatic and my heart is beaming, until she invites the other two, who excitedly climb aboard. WTF!? My date sits with The X across from me and monkey and The X’s girlfriend who is a ding-dong.
As we round the corner, everyone starts laughing and I start feeling insecure that it’s about me. I’m wrong, they only SKIPPED OUT ON THE CHECK. My heart begins to race and I am terrified that we’re going to be arrested in a matter of moments. Not only was the reservation under my full name, but also our get-a-way vehicle was wearing blinders.
In the end, the three of them went out dancing for the rest of the evening and I returned to the restaurant to pay all but fifty dollars and made a promise to return the next day with the rest. They took all of my information and I borrowed the cash from my boss to pay off my debt with another promise to work extra shifts.
To this day, I don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day.
(And I thought my Valentine’s Day stories were bad…jeez!)
I’ll be contacting both of you to get your prizes sorted out—in the meantime, please email me at SingleInSouthPhilly[at]gmail[dot]com with your mailing address and choice of department store so I can forward your info to the lovely folks over at Mitchum.
And on that note, it’s time to celebrate: I’m 26 today and off to Pittsburgh in less than 48 hours!