Picture me sitting in the living room of my brother’s house
moments after walking through their front door after unexpected (or if you know
American Airlines ---- e-x-p-e-c-t-e-d) delays that evening stemming from
holiday travel. I’d been in his home
merely 10 minutes before I found myself sitting across the room from my mother
who was also two-deep in Cabernet. They were apparently so eager of my arrival they busted open some merry-merry before the bird's wheels touched down. Not shocking if you knew my jovial bunch this side of the nuthouse.
We barely made it through the salutations and hugging before
I was drilled with questions about this new gent I’ve been seeing by mostly my mom and SIL. I answered them willingly as I don’t mind
talking about him and actually have nothing to hide. But, at some point the question was asked
about what made him different from all the other men I’ve dated/or gone on
1-time dates with, to which I couldn’t answer with just a couple of adjectives
that tout his wonderfulness. But, I did
give a comparison answer consisting of:
“Well, he’s NOT the kind of guy who wants to meet you out on a
first date for coffee at a nice little coffee house and then proceed to hit on
the waitress and exchange phone numbers with her right in front of you”.
I witnessed mother’s eyes bugging out of her head and then I
believe she leaned forward a belly laughed asking if that was a true story. To which my response was, “Yes, I cannot lie”.
Yes, it’s been a while since that happened and not
fabricated for this bloggy-blog syndication (whatevs). A tall, handsome gent asked me out for coffee
and left with the waitresses phone number in hand as I walked off never to be
turn around and wonder about him again.
And my friends are wondering why I haven’t written a
collection of bad date short stories - which would be appropriately be
classified in the HUMOR section at your local bookstore or in the PATHETIC
section if there is one…
Date: August 2011
Time: 7 PM
Where: Local coffee house
Who: Some tall handsome guy who’s into the Paleo
Diet, some weird form of cage fighting/martial arts thing and had a thing for
boyish t-shirts and Birkenstocks.
Outcome: I left with my ego busted, but heart never
broken.
OMG. OMFG. OK...that is the extent of my acronym usage I swear. Oh wait, no. There's one more. WTF????
ReplyDeleteWell, at least he made quick work of declaring himself to be a total asshole so you didn't waste too much time finding that out.
You're right....good point. Waste of time diverted with his antics. Thanks for the reminder and hope things are well in your world!
ReplyDelete