Wednesday, February 17, 2010
My heart was thumping like a wild elephant in my chest, my palms were cool as my nerves jumped with girlish excitement. This date was BOUND to be different. Sure, it was a first date, but I knew this guy. Well...not really...I had seen him around. And had a major crush on him. He was super attractive--a performer, with intense eyes and a wicked smile that made me go weak in the knees.
Yep. This was gonna be a good date.
My phone bleeps. A text from Him. ...i'm here...
hmm. He couldn't even walk up to my door and get me?
Oh well, I overlook this clueless move because the minute I step outside and see his face I can't even think straight.
Yeahhh, just as cute as I remember. We shall call him Mister Smooth Pants.
The first thing I notice is that his car smells like an entire bottle of cologne broke inside on the seat. The smell is so strong and musky I almost gag, but resist as he flashes me that ten dollar smile.
Let me just clarify...this guy asked ME out.
K, now that that's outta the way...
We go to a nice steak place. I am impressed but ask "This looks expensive, are you sure?"
He just grins and says "Of course baby." He's already calling me baby? Sure he's cute...but...nobody calls me BABY on the first date. Especially someone who has better hair than I do.
We order. I am polite and order a salad, because the menu is just too pricey for me. He orders a steak with all the fixings...
We eat and talk...and talk...and talk...about him. His bad hair days. His accolades as a performer. How he can't seem to get rid of his girl fan club.
The whole time I was interested, but amazed that he was so in love with himself he didn't even bother to ask how to pronounce my last name, he just kept pronouncing it the wrong way.
Okayyyy he's still cute. Don't judge.
The bill comes.
Without missing a beat he winks at me, "Hey, you wouldn't mind paying would you? I just realized I forgot my wallet."
Of course I choke inside but force a smile, "Sure."
Sure I'll pay for your massive steak and appetizer and dessert while all I got was a salad with maybe three croutons and watered down dressing...sure...you miserable no good...
"Baby?" He asks...I'm sure my face had gone red.
I nod sweetly and follow him out to his car.
He grins at me and winks. "I never get girls doors, it sets bad standards for when you get married."
I just nod and open my door. WHATEVER. This guy is quickly winning me all over the place.
He turns on some slow, sappy romantic music as he drives...and reaches for my hand.
I go to tug my hand away but he just holds it tighter, turns to me and starts singing..."on the wings of loooove"....in an off tone, monotone voice.
Mister Smooth Pants is just TOOOO smooth.
I am forced to let him hold my hand the whole way to my house because his grip his like a python. When we get there I yank it free. He smiles and pulls out two different kinds of mints.
He offers me one, "Pick one."
I narrow my eyes. "why?"
"Because it makes the kissing experience better if we have two different flavors to taste."
YUCK. Like I would EVER kiss you.
I take one and smile slyly... Yeah...you think you're getting a kiss...
He walks me to my door. Then he reaches for my hands and plays with my hands like we are honeymoon lovers. He acts like he is the star of the bachelor, I want to ask where the cameras are. He then gives me a look so passionate all I can do is burst into laughter.
Mister Smooth Pants looks stunned that I would be laughing at his attempt at porch-lit-romance.
"You're ruining the mood," he hisses.
I just keep laughing. "What mood?"
I turn and open my door then shut it on his mile-wide open mouth.
"Aren't we gonna kiss?" Mister Smooth Pants is wining like a puppy.
"Nope," I say, "I don't mix flavors."
Goodbye Mister Smooth Pants.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
It was a romantic night. The kind where the moon has swallowed the sky so that whole atmosphere looks like it might implode. But in a beautiful, whimsical way. I'm waiting on my porch and see His car pull up. My blind date whom we shall call Doctor Foot. He gets out of his car and I am actually smitten. He's not a midget. He's not wolf man. He is cute.
He gets closer.
Mmmm. He is cuter than cute. Almost...hot. Dare I think it?
He smiles a knee buckling smile and says "I'm Doctor Foot."
"Hi," I say. Finally a cute one.
We hop in his car. I try to ignore the fact that year old french fries are putrefied on the dashboard.
And the fact that he listens to Ricky Martin.
"Up for bowling?" He gives me a Dean Martin smile. I forget about Ricky Martin.
We stop at the alley. He gets out. He's a gentlemen, he comes and opens my door. Okay, two more points. I can look over the mummified fries.
We walk into the alley. Its a little ghetto, what bowling alley isn't? I like living on the other side of the tracks for a change. Until a guy with a missing tooth and belly that bulges like Santa's winks at me from the pool table. Doctor Foot waves at the guy. Oh gosh. Please tell me they're not friends.
Doctor Foot walks over to Pirate Santa. Yep. They are.
We are introduced. Pirate Santa smells like things my innocent nose has never smelled before. "Doctor Foot here will take care of ya!" He slaps my back like I'm a professional hockey player. I cringe and me and Doctor Foot walk to our designated alley.
He turns to me and suddenly drops to my feet. I am a little shocked, but force a smile. He smiles at me and whips out a thick, woolly white sock. "Mind if I slip this on?"
I wouldn't mind...except he has this weird, crazed look in his eye. And he is no longer looking at my face, but my foot. And he's looking at it so passionately I step back. "Uh, that's okay." I reach for the sock.
His smile wilts and he lunges for my ankle, I come down like a sumo wrestler. Instead of asking if I'm okay he just reaches for my foot and strokes it. Yep. That's right. Strokes it.
"You have great feet. I love feet."
Ewe. I want to gag. But I am so shocked from the fall all I can do is gape in horror as he slips the sock on my foot...and then kisses my toes. UGH. I want to barf. When we stand up I fake a headache and say I better get home. He just looks at my feet and shrugs. "Want me to take your socks off?"