I experienced one of the most terrifying nights of my life during my Senior year of high school.
I dated a real douche balloon for three weeks that year. I’m not talking a little Chuck E. Cheese latex balloon, either. I’m talking a grandiose hot air douche filled balloon with a wicker basket for passengers and shit. Now that I think about it, he should be dubbed as a douche zeppelin.
In fact, my whole relationship with him was terrifying.
Those weeks with him weren’t terrifying because he went all Ike Turner on me or gave me the cold sores or anything like that. No, but they were terrifying because he always liked to see me squirm, whether it be sneaking up behind me and yelling “boo” or telling me he loved me after our first date. Terrifying stuff.
Since we were from a no-horse town, we spent most of our time just riding around. We’d venture onto back roads in the country, talking, listening to the radio, but never drinking beer that we scored from his older sister. We were only 17. Of course we didn’t score beer from his older sister. For shame.
One night douche zeppelin and I began to argue, and he told me to get out of his truck. I told him he was crazy. He kept arguing with me until I got so tired of hearing his whiney voice that I complied. Then he drove away.
I was left on a gravel road, miles from civilization, pitch black surrounding me. I remember closing my eyes and it was the same darkness when I opened them. It was dark, bro.
The frigid November wind blew the aged Oaks that formed a canopy over the road. I shuddered and wrapped my arms around myself.
This was 1998. The only cell phone I owned was in a bag and plugged into the cigarette lighter in my car. I had no choice but to start moving.
So I walked. And I remained calm. And I rehearsed the break up speech that I would give when I saw the zeppelin at school on Monday. This was the second time that butthead had put me out on the side of the road. Sure, the first time was only like 7 steps from my house, but enough was enough.
And I heard it.
I heard the sound of footsteps on the rocks behind me.
My heart began to pound, and I released rapid puffs of breath into the cold air. I also had the overwhelming urge to run and urinate on myself simultaneously.
And then I heard something else.
I heard the sound of growling.
But it wasn’t your regular old domesticated animal kind of growling. It was the gurgle of a rabid beast that walked upright on two legs and ate Lochness Monster testicles and high school Seniors for brunch.
And I ran.
And I prayed. I began praying to God for protection. I prayed to God that I wouldn’t trip and fall the way those floozies in scary movies always do. I thanked God that I’d opted for Eastland loafers instead of 6 inch heels that night.
And as I was running, the footsteps behind me quickened. The growling became louder. I could hear it, whatever it was, sucking in sharp breaths of the November air, and I accepted the fact that I was going to be mauled to death on a gravel road by some unknown creature.
I ignored the sharp running pain in my side. I ignored the tears welling up in my eyes. I just ran. I ran like I was on the Cross Country team that had rejected me months before.
“If those bastards could see me now,” I thought. “I’m running like a freaking cheetah. I’m in pain, but I’m a cheetah, dammit.”
When I saw the headlights coming towards me, I began flailing my arms like a mad person. I even screamed for help. I’ve never really screamed for help, unless you count the times that my daddy tickled my feet or when I sang the Beatles tune of the same name, but that wasn’t life threatening or anything. As I was running down that gravel road, I straight up screamed for help, like those floozies in 6 inch heels that always trip in scary movies.
The vehicle halted beside me, gravel and dust from the tires blinding my eyes as I threw open the passenger side door. I heaved my exhausted and panicked body into the vehicle, oblivious to who was sitting in the driver’s seat. It could’ve been Jack the Ripper. Or Howie Mandel. I didn’t care.
It was douche zeppelin. And he was laughing.
I locked the door and began wailing on him. I hit him as hard as I could, groaning from fright, on the verge of hyperventilating.
After slapping him in the face, I looked for the large, gruesome, evil beast that had been chasing me. I saw nothing. There was nothing but darkness.
Douche zeppelin said that it was probably a dog or something harmless. I argued with him through sobs, my chest pounding as I gasped for air. I was so sickened and scared that I puked in his floorboard.
But I didn’t puke beer in his floorboard. It wasn’t beer that we scored from his older sister. I was only 17 years old. For shame.
The vomit covering his Chevrolet floor mats and the sheer terror that I experienced was the only break up speech needed.
Damn you, douche zeppelin. Damn you.
Z, I can barely see through my tears I’m laughing so hard. You always do this, and I feel bad for laughing at you! But your stories are written with such panache and aplomb, I know you don’t mind 🙂
I don’t mind the laughing one bit. Enough time has passed that I’m not all uptight and rigid about the whole situation. Back then, I would’ve wailed on someone for laughing at something so terrifying. I still don’t know what was chasing me, but that is fine with me.
woo scary. don’t
like that boyfriend – glad you didn’t puke beer in his car. good post. 🙂
Of course it wasn’t beer!
I’m so glad you puked in his car.
I am too!!
Holy crap! Dude, that’s terrifying! “Douche zeppelin” doesn’t even cover what that psychopath was!
However, I bet you never get out of cars on the side of the road anymore! Whoa!
Excellent writing by the way. You told the shit out of that story!
Never get out of cars on dark and scary roads anymore. Never ever ever!
I so tried to tell the shit out of that story! I’m glad you think I did! THANK YOU!!!
What an appropriate name Douche Zeppelin is! I’m glad you left him a little present in his car. Scary!
Yup, he totally deserved it.
“Douche Zeppelin” is now my favourite phrase of the day.
And WOW, what a jerk! He deserves the nickname, the NON-beer-filled vomit (wink wink!) and more. Ugh. :[
Yes he did, wink wink!
This is simply awesome! Love the suspense and the humor and the nostalgia. Not that I ever remember throwing up in any seat of any car at the tender age of 17. For shame. Love you!
For shame! Thank you, Mama M!!!
What a douche zepplin and how fucking clever are you? Always with the good vocabulary. I heart it. Anyway, nothing is scarier than Howie Mandel. He would have freaked if you puked in his car. He has OCD!
I have a slight touch of the OCD. Man, that would’ve turned into one helluva night if Howie had been involved!!
Thanks!
Wow, that was some suspense you created. When you got into the car I thought that might be worse than what was chasing you. And to some extent that may have been true. I was holding my breath a bit reading this. It’s funny but not funny at the same time. Quite a talent you have.
Thank you, Stephanie!
I swear we must have been sisters in a former life! You are wonderful. I think I will probably be using the term “douche zeppelin” now. Oh yeah, I dated a few of those fuckers too!
DZ is the new “asshole”. You’ll be amazed how many times you use it throughout the day!
I just loved this; it was like something surprisingly sweet, salty and twisted. I thought it was going to be straight up funny (like your sense of humor, “for shame”), but found myself holding my breath in suspense when chased by the growly thing.
You made me laugh, scared the shit out of me and pissed me off with a reminder that there are douches everywhere.
Looking forward to more.
Becca
I love this comment! THANK YOU!!!
Wow! Loved reading this – funny, scary and sassy at once. Thank you for throwing up all over his Chevy. You did it for all of us who ever dated douche zeppelins!
I had no idea that I was taking a stand for women across the world when I puked in his truck. Wow. Somehow the terror I experienced seems worth it now!
Thanks!!
You are already a great writer. This post is a masterpiece.
Is this sarcasm? If no, then thanks. If yes, then hahahahah!
Great post!! this totally made me laugh…and also totally hate douche zeppelin to the CORE what a JERK!
You’ve got a great written style and cadence 🙂 Stoked for more!
Thank you! And please come back for more!
Whoa, sounds like you were being chased by a Bigfoot (Sasquatch)! Scarey!
Quite possibly.
I loved this so, so very much. You had me at Douche Zeppelin, and then you went all, like, suspenseful and shit on me. I was ripping the crap out of my cuticles…again (see A Teachable Mom’s post).
You are just freaking hysterical! Can I buy you a beer?
P.S. I read the intro to my husband and he loved it too. You earned an extra fan with this one, mama.
The challenge grid is hard on cuticles this week!
You can definitely buy me a beer. I’m past 17 and don’t need older sisters to score it for me anymore. For shame.
Thanks for sharing with the hubs!
Yeah, douche zeppelin… Love it! And I am so glad you puked on his floorboards. DZ totally deserved that…
Yes. Yes he did.
What an A-hole!!!
Yep!
Serves him right that you puked in his car. This story is hilarious and terrifying, a completely awesome combination.
Thank you!!
I hope you had dinner before you went out with him so you could blow chunks. What he deserved! And I can imagine your mind imagining something running after you. My mind works that way too. Awesomely told story but sorry it happened to you! I must admit…I laughed through the majority of it!
I can laugh about it now, too!
I was so sure it would be HIM having somehow sneaked up behind you. He sounds like a real manipulator. I bet it was a friend of his carefully hidden. And you were supposed to be all grateful he came back. I’m SO GLAD you threw up on his floor boards.
This has been my theory for years!!
Even if I hadn’t been drinking non-existant beer (for shame), or just had the bejeebers scared out of me, I would have FORCED myself to barf in his truck. Have you mentally healed or are you still scarred?
I’m still healing!
I think I liked your break-up speech best. Total Douche Zeppelin!
Totally!
Hysterical. And, God, he WAS a douche zeppelin! Awesome job throwing up in his car 🙂
Thank you! IT was the least I could do!
Perfect post for Dude Write! It was fun reading it again 🙂
Thanks for reading (again!)
Great one liners and humor for a shitty situation. Love it! If I get time err remember err feel like it err…I will vote on yeahwrite and you will get some good points. And some virtual brownie points, too.
Ah, thanks so much!! Err… 🙂
I love that you puked!! He totally deserved it. The Howie Mandel part killed me!
Howie Mandel is horrifying!
What. An. Asshole. I hope he never got the smell of vomit out of his truck.
I think he STILL drives that truck. Loser.
That was awesomely awful! Douche Zepplin, snort! Boys from no horse towns who think they are funny are the WORST!
Ellen
I concur!!
That is some major, major douche zeppelin action right there. Banjo square in the balls for that one, girl!
Hahaha! Yes!
You say it best, when you puke in his car!
Well played!
Thank you!!
I thought for sure it was gonna be him behind you doing the growling! I was thinking the man would no longer have a penis after that (assuming he had much of one to begin with), but puking in his truck a close second!
I assume his penis sucked. I didn’t stick around long enough to find out…thankfully.
I hope he has a bajillion kids vomiting in car to this day! He truly is a douche bag!
You’re a great story teller! Glad I found you through Dude Write.
So true! Thanks for finding me and for the comment 🙂
So thrilled you linked this to Dude Write! Wow…what a tool. I have had my share of wilderness walks late at night but never with a guy while looking for a place to neck away from parent’s prying eyes…cause I’m a lady damn it. I’ve heard growls that almost had me warming my legs with urine…but wow…what a dick. Puking in his truck…priceless. I’m glad you can laugh about it now but that guy deserved every punch.
Ha! Awesome comment! Thanks.
Sounds quite terrifying! It would’ve been better had you puked in his lap instead! What a douche!
By the way, I’m seeing a trend where a high number of women all have an ex that they refer to as “douche”!
This story was very well told!
Thx! I will aim for the lap next time!
Oh DEAR LORD, you poor girl! That guy was an asshole! And I’m certain it was Chupacabra. I hope it ate him later. Nice to meet you!
Chupacabra, most definitely. Thanks for the comment!!
Of course he still drives that truck… Your puke is the closest he’s ever been to being “inside a woman!”
Great work Susannah. I’m always spellbound.
WG
Great observation! Thanks for inviting me again!!
Excellent post Susannah, I felt as if I were right there and coming from a Dude if I had been, beer I mean puke because at seventeen there would have been no beer involved, anyways puke on the floor mat would have been the least of his worries.
I’m glad I stopped by 🙂
Ha! Thanks for stopping by!!
Susannah, I wouldn’t blame you if you found that douche bag now and slashed his tires. Do you know where he lives? Can I help?
No clue. He probably lives in his truck. Thanks for the offer!
So scary!! What an idiot that d’bag was. My heart was pounding reading this, it was so vivid! Great post. 🙂
Thanks!
You timed that puke perfectly. Nicely done. I enjoyed your descriptive phrasing. Enjoyable read. Good luck!
Thank you 🙂
This is a wonderful post, the fellow deserved the puke.
On a different note, it seems we share that we’ve puked in a vehicle. Except mine usually IS beer related, and now my wife slows down a bit so I can open the door and aim for the pavement.
Well done. 🙂
Who are we kidding here? It was beer.
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OOhhhhhh!!! This is such a good post!! I mean, he WAS a total douche zeppelin, but this is a great telling of the story. He didn’t deserve the Monday-at-school- breakup speech. The only breakup speech that twatwaffle deserved was the one he got!!