I saw her across the room and before I knew it I was walking toward her. I didn’t know what to say so I decided to start with a lie.
“Hi, your sandwich might be poisoned.”
She politely informed me she had no sandwich nearby. I politely informed her, looking down and to the right, that I may be too late. Then I looked at her and said in a self-fulfilling prophecy sort of way, my God, you can’t keep your eyes off me. She stared disappointedly.
I asked her if I was coming on a little strong and she said you lack the muscle tone for that. I thought, wow, this is the one, and then she almost ruined the mood by saying quit staring at my chest. I asked if she wanted to play truth or dare, she told me I looked a lot better when my mouth was closed. I took the hint and started doing some spontaneous interpretive dancing.
Oh, look out ladies, I seemed to be saying with my hips, I’m available and I may be too much to handle. She didn’t seem to be getting this so I asked for her number to text her what my interpretive dance was saying.
She said she didn’t give her number out to dancers, not after that incident with Jean. I said it’s pronounced jean, as in the clothing item, and her lack of worldliness is probably what ended things. She said a pair of flannel sweatpants would probably get further with her than I ever would. I told her that’s incorrect, they would definitely get further than I ever would.
I stormed off making thunder noises, and doing jazz hands while yelling the word lightning. I hurried back quietly and informed her that I had stormed off, get it, and was she sad about it. She said a gale force wind was coming in, then she wound up and got a little spittle on my face as she treated my face like a birthday cake with too many candles. It was my turn to be disgusted. She whispered, my name is Gale, get it.
This is going to be an interesting first date.