I buy a beautiful dress, get my hair, toes and nails done. The works.
You would’ve done the same. We’re talking about dinner with someone that you’ve been flirting with for six months. We’d been circling each other too long. I was on the verge of making the first move. But finally, he took the initiative.
Now it was up to me to seal the deal. I made sure every curve was visible, that anything that could stick and poke out did. My heels were so high I was ducking airplanes.
When I looked in the mirror, I wanted to jump my own bones right there.
The doorbell rang and as I went to answer there was one thing I knew for sure: this man was gonna be mine!
I was startled that he didn’t look any different. You know, people hitting the club don’t dress the same as they do at the office. You have your clothes for going to the grocery store and your clothes for impressing that special someone.
The guy looked like he left the office and came straight here. Not that he looked bad. He just didn’t look … different. I’d expected him to want to impress me with his appearance as much as I wanted to blow his mind.
I said Wha?
We took the bus. Turned out that tricked out SUV he drove every day belonged to his mommy and he was only allowed to drive it to work.
Unfortunately, I’m a germ-a-phobe. I’d recently read an article on the Internet about bus commuting reportedly increasing the possibility of getting TB by eight. The article even listed the bus routes in the area where TB cases were more likely to occur. I was sitting on the bus that made the list at number three. The guy in a velour sweat suit sitting across from me had a pus-filled eye.
We had dinner at his favorite taco spot. The meal was free because his brother owned the place. Was the food good? I don’t know. My taste buds died on the bus. After dinner, we had drinks. At the bar in the same taco place.
The End of a Lovely Evening
As soon as I could get away, I took a limousine service home. Considering the way I was dressed, I deserved it.