He gave me ringworm
Not all dating stories are love stories. Some are medical incidents.
Hey you,
A New Yorker gave me ringworm.
The story is a classic single-girl-in-New-York trope. It was 2012 and I met him at a bar in the Lower East Side. He was an artist living in his Brooklyn warehouse studio. As we sat in the taxi back to his place, the foolishness of it all did cross my mind — no one knew where I was or who I was with — but I quickly forgot the concern when, upon arrival, he started singing to me with his guitar. Oh, the silly things we do for lust.
A few days later, I noticed a weird rash on my stomach. Scaly, round, and the size of a shot glass rim. Like any self-sufficient 20-something, I turned to my parents for a diagnosis. Dad called it immediately: ringworm. A highly contagious fungal skin infection that’s passed through direct skin-to-skin contact or contaminated items. That tracked. The bed was as unmade as the sheets were unclean.
Afraid to tell someone you’re not interested? Read the guide on how to do it.
To be clear, it’s not an actual worm. It simply has the misfortune of being labelled as one and it made the requisite phone call equally uncomfortable.
Hello? Yes, hi, it’s me, Candice. I have to tell you something. I’ve been to the doctor and I have ringworm. You gave it to me.
He was unsurprised, unbothered, and we never spoke again.
Over the years, I’ve learned that there are three types of dating stories: a bad date that makes a great story, a great date that makes a love story, and a boring date that makes nothing at all. The last category is the worst. I’ve been on so many of those dates, I can’t even remember their faces. I’d rather someone say or do something ridiculous than be subjected to a dull date.
So the ringworm is cause for celebration. The fungus cured within 4 weeks and it makes a great story. That’s what dating is about. A phase of life where we collect romantic short stories until we come across the one that warrants a whole book.
Everyone goes through life making questionable decisions, creating stories worth sharing, and dodging at least one embarrassing medical incident. I’ve had only one fungal infection in 40 years. Statistically, I'm thriving.
With love & other rubbish,
Candice
PS I’m sharing 40 of my best lessons in life and love over on Instagram. From the benefits of having friends kinkier than you (#31) to navigating misaligned kissing styles (#39), the catalogue is rich.
…and other rubbish
Your new favourite pick up line
Her fingers fit perfectly
Your canal deserves two days off
My ex with her new husband
Eleanor has the greatest Tinder profile
She said, he said
“Love is the word used to label the sexual excitement of the young, the habituation of the middle-aged, and the mutual dependence of the old.”
John Ciardi
Thanks for reading my love letter from New York. Hit the like button or drop a comment. Every action motivates me to keep sharing my stories. 👇