There Will Be No 2nd Date
Here is what I said to Sue (who is dating Robb, a TV producer):
"Hey, you should have Robb hook me up with my own show. I want to be a star."
Here is what Sue (who is dating Robb, a TV producer) heard:
"Hey, you should have Robb hook me up with one of his friends. Let's meet at a bar."
In all fairness, Sue (drop dead beautiful, yet dumb as a post) has dropped her phone so many times that she has to slap it seven times in rapid succession and then blow three quick breaths into it before she can hear the person on the other end speak. This seems to be the magic equation. When I call her, I wait 20 seconds before holding the phone to my ear. I suppose, it's possible that she misheard me.
When she came over last night, she looked at me in my tank top, panties (sequined), and flip-flops (also sequined) and rolled her eyes. "Get dressed, we're going out" she said. Ordinarily, I would have squealed and made her sit on big chair in my bedroom as I got dressed. But, I have an ear infection and a cough that makes people cringe when I am around them, so I'm not in a squealing mood.
Still, I have a new pair of camel toe jeans that I have been dying to wear, so I got dressed. When I came down stairs, Sue looked at my jeans and said, "you're going to get a yeast infection in those." She always knows how to make me feel sexy. She had made me a cocktail (amoxicillin and vodka) so I couldn't be mad .
I love it when Sue drives me places. She is terrifying behind the wheel. In her head, she is a getaway driver. I am sure that she can see flashing blue lights in her rear view mirror as she weaves in and out of traffic. Sometimes, I feel like taking off my seatbelt, leaning out of the open window, and screaming, "you'll never take me alive, coppers!" I don't want to mess up my hair in the wind, so I fix my lip gloss instead.
I knew I was being ambushed when we walked in the bar and Sue craned her neck to get a look at who was there. She grabbed my arm and began walking toward the dart boards. Under her breath, she gave me the details, "31. Never married. He works in HR or PR or the ER...something with an R. Likes dogs. Can't remember his name. Smile."
I had been set up. I'm not sure why people continue to set me up on dates. I have a good time, but no one else does. I am obnoxious. I talk all the time and because tell how loudly I'm talking due to my ear infection, I talk too loud. I demand complements on my shoes. I do not care about baseball. I need a few dollars to play Golden Tee Golf. I need a few more for the juke box. I scratch my a$ in public. I am all for public humiliation, even my own. Instantly, I pitied the poor man. He had no idea what I was going to do to his bar tab. Most importantly, he had no idea that I was going to tell him how much I hated his shirt. Also, he was carrying an umbrella. It was not raining. I didn't know his name yet and it wasn't going well for him already.
After a few drinks, Sue suggested that he drive me home. I agreed because the pressure in my ears was unbearable and I could hardly hear myself talk. We walked out to the car and I said, "I really appreciate the ride. It's almost time for my next dose of antibiotic." I can turn sexy on and off, just like that.
We drove back to my house in silence. At least, I think it was silence. I really can't hear at all in my left ear. A block from my home, he drove through a red light and we were pulled over. The officer ran his license and returned to the car. My date was asked to get out of the vehicle slowly. Apparently, he was not aware that there was a warrant for his arrest. I think the officer offered to drop me off at home before taking my date downtown, but I'm not good at reading lips. I told him that I would feel uncomfortable with a fugitive of the law in the backseat. I wouldn't want him to know where I live. I asked if I could just take his car and drive myself home instead. I had a coughing fit and the officer thought carefully about the possibility of me spreading my infectious disease in his squad car. He gave me the keys.
Sue called me about an hour later. It turns out that my date had written a few bad checks in college at a local pizza place. He was broke and hungry and it was years ago and that I should totally go out with him again because he was really interested in seeing me again. I didn't mention that I still had his car and told that I was surprised that he still had a warrant from that offense. "I know," she said, "never f*ck with a pizza place. They're all tied to the mob."
Yes, Sue. Probably.