True beautiful woman syndrome stories:
Rock star revenge

From Steve, an emergency room physician:

A few months ago the ER in which I work hired a nurse who was so beautiful I'd work for free just to be around her. Inga is 24 years old and has long, shiny blonde hair that seems to sparkle subtle hues of different colors. She isn't particularly well-endowed, but other than that she looks better than most movie stars.

Needless to say, I didn't waste any time in chasing after her. After I asked her for a date and she accepted, I bought Inga a gold necklace for Valentine's Day and gave it to her one day at work. When she opened the present she acted as if she wasn't very surprised, or perhaps as if she was expecting something more expensive. It must be nice to be born beautiful and have people shower you with gifts just because of your appearance.

I should have taken that as a hint that Inga was an impossibly stuck-up jerk who'd been spoiled by getting too much too easily, but I still held out hope that things might work out. That hope didn't last too long, though. On the scheduled day of our date I drove to her home at 7 P.M. as we'd agreed upon. Inga's Mom answered the door and seemed surprised when I told her why I was there. She said, "I didn't know Inga had a date tonight, but I'll get her up. She is sleeping right now."

Great, I thought. A minute later Inga's Mom told me that she was getting ready, and that she would be out in a few minutes. I felt uncomfortably out of place as I stood in the kitchen as Inga's parents resumed talking to one another as if I weren't present.

About 15 minutes later Inga walked into the kitchen. "Hi, Steve, I didn't know we had a date."

After going through medical school, I'm fairly confident that I can memorize and keep straight in my head all sorts of trivial facts even if they aren't particularly interesting to me. A date with a goddess is not something I'm going to get confused. And Inga was telling me that not only did I get the date wrong, I somehow imagined that we had a date even though we never had one. No way!

It was obvious to me that she probably thought less of me than the dirt she walked on. We had definitely discussed what day and time I should pick her up and she'd given me directions to her house by drawing a cute little map. Clearly, we'd had a date.

I told Inga, "We discussed the date, time, and directions to your house."
"Yeah, but I never thought you'd really show up."

I wondered what made her think something so goofy, so I told her the fact that we hadn't canceled our date is what led me to believe that we still had a date. She responded with a circumlocution about how she was saving up to buy a condo, and how she wanted to go back to school, and then — finally! — something that seemed pertinent. "Steve, I can't believe that you think I'd date you."

Now she seemed to be saying that we'd indeed discussed the date but that it somehow did not count since she was clearly too good for me. Well, if she didn't want to date me, all she had to say was "no" when I asked her out. I know that it's easy to say because plenty of women have told me that.

I did not see any point in going through with the date, so I went home and watched a movie.

A few weeks later Inga and I were working together in the ER when a big-name rock star came in complaining of a toothache. I suspected he was faking it just to get a narcotic prescription, but I gave it to him anyway because I didn't want a celebrity to write a complaint letter to my boss.

After the rock star and a couple of kids with ear infections were discharged, the ER was quiet for a few hours so that gave me time to think about what Inga told me on the night of our date. I decided to write Inga a note:

Dear Inga,

You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I enjoyed talking to you, and I'd like to get to know you better. Will you please meet me for a drink at the Lakeshore Inn this Saturday at 6? I can't wait to see you again!

I mailed it to Inga c/o the ER, but I didn't sign my name. Instead, I signed the rock star's name.

The following Tuesday Inga and I were working together in the ER. I told her about how I'd helped my brother move into his new house over the weekend, and I asked her what she'd done.

"I got stood up."

"You were stood up? Who would do such a thing to you?"

"Remember that rock star with the toothache? He sent me a note saying that he wanted to meet me for a drink. I waited four hours, but he never showed up."

Follow-up note: The person who submitted the above story sent it to me by e-mail with the following request: "On you offer a free book to anyone who submits a story that you use. If you use my story, I want my free book sent to Inga. Her address is _______. Please stick a note inside asking her to look at whatever page my story is on. Thanks!"

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“Most beautiful dumb girls think they are smart and get away with it, because other people, on the whole, aren't much smarter.”
— Louise Brooks
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