I lost my shoes on a date once. It was one of the last dates I ever went on before I got married, and it was one of the worst. But, if I stepped back and really looked at it, I might see that it wasn’t so bad because even if I lost my shoes, I got lunch and a huge scab on my shin. I’m all about the freebies, y’all.
I met Kenny at church. We sat next to each other one Sunday and exchanged a few words.
Kenny: This bench is hard.
Me: Fuck yeah.
Kenny: Did you just say the “F” word inside a church?
Me: I meant “Hell yeah.” I try to be more ladylike on Sundays.
He giggled like a schoolgirl. That should have been the first sign of trouble, but I was extremely flattered that he found me funny, and really, isn’t that the first step toward a successful relationship- when I think I’m awesome and you think I’m awesome, too?
While the offering basket was being passed around, he leaned over and asked if I would like to have lunch after church. And maybe after lunch, he said, we should go and have dessert, because a sweet lady deserves sweet treats.
That shit works apparently. On me, at least.
After a delicious salad bar buffet with a free ice cream cone ending, Kenny asked if I’d like to see his betta fish. Sure, I said, why not. I liked that this 32-year-old man enjoyed animals.
At his suburban ranch-style house, I noticed women’s shoes by the front door and a hair clip on the kitchen counter. Noticing where my gaze landed, Kenny quickly said he had a female roommate. No biggie.
He motioned toward his bedroom. Betta fish, he promised.
And betta fish he delivered. After an in-depth twenty minute recital of betta fish facts, he showed me around his room. Somewhere in between high school math league medals and tennis championship trophies, I kicked off my shoes. This tour was going to take a while.
Kenny leaned in for a kiss at the end of his tour. His reward, I’m sure, for entertaining me so thoroughly.
Before he got to my lips, he froze and whispered, “Oh shit, my roommate is home.” And then he blurted out the truth. His “roommate” was his mom. And this was her house. And Kenny was supposed to ask before he brought company over.
Kenny wanted me to leave…immediately. Eager to help the sad son of a bitch out, I grabbed my purse and started for the door. He blocked my path and begged me to use the window instead. Too stunned to voice any objections, I found myself with one leg out the window just a short minute later.
Just as I was throwing my other leg over the window ledge, Kenny’s mom walked into his room. Her sudden appearance rocked my balance and I fell, front first, into the bush below, scraping my shins and muddying my legs.
I ran into a neighbor’s backyard and stood in hiding. A few minutes later, I heard Kenny calling my name. When he finally found me, he motioned me over. His mother wanted to meet me.
She took one look at my scraped shins and muddy legs and went inside the house without saying a word. Kenny offered to take me back to my car. Too embarrassed to ask for my shoes, I got inside his car.
On the drive back to church, he asked to see me again the following Friday. I told him I probably wouldn’t be able to see him again. He asked why.
“Oh, I think we both know why.”
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Your worst date ever?
image via lettercult.com
