"Excuse me, that seat's taken" He said, not bothering to look up.
"That's ok, I'm the one you're supposed to meet" A feminine voice replied.
Face palm.
Damn him, damn him, DAMN HIM ! He'd specifically asked his friend to stop setting him up on blind dates.. Ever since his last disastrous relationship -which he didn't want to think about- his best friend had taken it upon himself to make sure to set him up on as many dates as possible, following the timeless tradition of throwing a lot of mud at the wall and seeing what sticks. Well, girls.. not mud. It would be impolite to compare girls to mud.. The fact that he had to remind himself of that was ample evidence that he wasn't ready for this.
The first time his friend asked him if he wanted to set him up on a date, he refused point-blank. The result of that was waking up at 12 PM to a knock on his door, only to find a prostitute on his doorstep, wearing as much clothes as one would wear in a bubble bath. He explained politely -while keeping her hands off of his shirt- that no thank you, I'm not interested. She took it way too seriously. Instead of backing off, she renewed her attacks with increased vigour, even going so far as to offer him the night for free. When he still refused -far from putting on what little clothes she was wearing and leaving him alone- she was reduced to tears and he had to sit there with her for a whole hour, telling her that it was OK and that he found her attractive but still wasn't interested in her oh-so-appealing services.. which were perfectly fine, because there's nothing wrong with being a working girl, and her parents would be proud if they knew she was working to put herself through college instead of.. well, there really was no instead of.. She was already selling herself. Anyway, eventually he offered to pay her for the night if she'd leave now and go to his friend's place and give him the same show. She nodded, smiled and left him feeling worse than he'd been before she came.
Two days later he went home after work, feeling particularly drained after a very long meeting and a whole bunch of reports he'd had to write, only to find a strip club where his house used to be. His best friend was there, along with a lot of their common friends. Apparently, this was supposed to be his second cousin's bachelor party. But seeing as the second cousin was a figment of his best friend's imagination, he'd told everyone that "Mitch" (the second cousin) was passed out drunk in the bathroom and that they shouldn't worry about it and enjoy the party. He spotted his friend right away, and made his way towards him through the maze of strippers and alcohol.
"Mitch?! You couldn't choose a better name for my second cousin? All the Mitches I know are either white trash or accountants".
"Dude, you waived your right to make fun of people's names when you were named "Donald" ".
"Max, I'm not in the mood for this.. I have a big meeting tomorrow. So, using the keys I've just picked from your pocket, I'm going to your place to sleep it out. Enjoy the party.."
"Touche, Donald. I'll get you for this, though.. Mark my words. Not you, Mark, I was talking to Donald here.." And with that, he vanished back into the party.
Donald left the house and went to sleep at his friend's place.
Just one day later, his friend passed by his place for their weekly game night. Only instead of coming alone, he violated the all-time sacred rule of "no girls on game night". Of course, when they'd made that rule, the chance of them getting a girl on any night, albeit game night, was about less likely than them getting a "get out of jail free" card in real life.. So they hardly ever actually had to enforce the rule. But still, it was going against the rules. He was just about to point that out when Max not-so-subtly excused himself, grabbed his coat and hurriedly left the appartment. He was now alone with a girl whose name he didn't even know. Damn it.
Contrary to his expectations, they turned out to have a lot in common, and he ended up having a great time with her. Just when he started to think that this might lead somewhere, she got a call from her girlfriend. Yes, her girlfriend. If Max had done the slightest bit of research, he'd have realised that this girl had too much in common with him. WAY too much. She stormed out of the house shortly after she hung up, muttering a hurried apology and claiming she was having a huge fight with her better half.
Far from being discouraged after the "Lesbian Fiasco", as they came to know it, his best friend went to the trouble of setting up another date. He called Donald, asked him to meet him up for coffee, and didn't bother to show up. Instead, there was a girl there waiting for him. Unbeknownst to Max, however, it was the same girl Donald had fired not three weeks ago. Needless to say, she was less than thrilled to see him. She brutally savaged any attempts he made at a civil conversation;
"I love meat, but I'm a chicken kinda guy, myself. What about you?" He asked, hoping she'd be mature about this.
"Of course you're a chicken guy; You're a chicken, and you're a guy. Chicken Guy. Do you have any super powers, Chicken Guy? Apart from firing people?" So much for maturity.
"Yeah, I can make a wicked omlette!" Said Donald, hoping she'd take the hint and stop being so touchy.
"It figures, Chicken Guy must have amazing omlette powers. Do eggs obey your every command? Super Heros of the world, beware.. Chicken Guy is here. He'll soft-boil your eggs to oblivion. You stand no chance. MUAHAHAHAHAHA". She actually MUAHAHAHA'ed in public. Nice. He slowly put down his fork, grabbed his coat, left enough money to pay for both their meals and left. He didn't think she noticed.
The following month of his life was jam-packed with terrible blind dates; a blonde who asked him if his Surname was "Duck" and found it so hilarious that she doubled over laughing and choked on her steak (he had to perform the Hiemlich maneuver on her while she was laughing at his name); a Ukranian girl who was pretty as hell but only knew two words of English: "Yes" and "Bathroom" (how Max had set up that date with her, he'd never know); a feminist who thought it was insulting that he tried to pull her chair for her and left before they'd even ordered their food; a Texan girl who seemed nice enough but had a very heavy southern accent and he eventually burst out laughing and she left, feeling hurt (he felt terrible about that); a woman in her late thirties who started asking him how many children he wanted to have and whether or not he was afraid of commitment before they'd ordered the main course; a dude (Max meant that as a joke); a British girl who he found very hot but who found him "quite immature" because he told her he didn't like reading the papers and "rather lacking in taste" because he didn't like tea; and a girl in her twenties who showed up with her mother (because she kept no secrets from her mother).
A couple of months passed without incident and he thought that was the end of that, until one day, Max called and arranged for an outing. He should have seen it coming when he told him the name of the place they were supposed to be going to.. One did not simply ask out his friend on a bro date at a fancy restaurant.. But he'd thought he wouldn't stoop that low.
Of course, he was wrong.
He braced himself, took a deep breath, and looked up.
To his great surprise, she was breath-taking. She turned out to be a beautiful, elegant, age-appropriate, straight, single female who spoke English and had a lot in common with him. They spent hours talking and they couldn't get enough of each other. He really did think this could be the start of something big.
It doesn't matter how many times you fail, or how many wrong people you meet.. As long as you have the right attitude and a best friend like Max, you'll eventually get there. Don't give up. No matter how many terrible relationships you go through or how many appalling people you're set up with, remember..
It only takes one time to meet the right person.
"That's ok, I'm the one you're supposed to meet" A feminine voice replied.
Face palm.
Damn him, damn him, DAMN HIM ! He'd specifically asked his friend to stop setting him up on blind dates.. Ever since his last disastrous relationship -which he didn't want to think about- his best friend had taken it upon himself to make sure to set him up on as many dates as possible, following the timeless tradition of throwing a lot of mud at the wall and seeing what sticks. Well, girls.. not mud. It would be impolite to compare girls to mud.. The fact that he had to remind himself of that was ample evidence that he wasn't ready for this.
The first time his friend asked him if he wanted to set him up on a date, he refused point-blank. The result of that was waking up at 12 PM to a knock on his door, only to find a prostitute on his doorstep, wearing as much clothes as one would wear in a bubble bath. He explained politely -while keeping her hands off of his shirt- that no thank you, I'm not interested. She took it way too seriously. Instead of backing off, she renewed her attacks with increased vigour, even going so far as to offer him the night for free. When he still refused -far from putting on what little clothes she was wearing and leaving him alone- she was reduced to tears and he had to sit there with her for a whole hour, telling her that it was OK and that he found her attractive but still wasn't interested in her oh-so-appealing services.. which were perfectly fine, because there's nothing wrong with being a working girl, and her parents would be proud if they knew she was working to put herself through college instead of.. well, there really was no instead of.. She was already selling herself. Anyway, eventually he offered to pay her for the night if she'd leave now and go to his friend's place and give him the same show. She nodded, smiled and left him feeling worse than he'd been before she came.
Two days later he went home after work, feeling particularly drained after a very long meeting and a whole bunch of reports he'd had to write, only to find a strip club where his house used to be. His best friend was there, along with a lot of their common friends. Apparently, this was supposed to be his second cousin's bachelor party. But seeing as the second cousin was a figment of his best friend's imagination, he'd told everyone that "Mitch" (the second cousin) was passed out drunk in the bathroom and that they shouldn't worry about it and enjoy the party. He spotted his friend right away, and made his way towards him through the maze of strippers and alcohol.
"Mitch?! You couldn't choose a better name for my second cousin? All the Mitches I know are either white trash or accountants".
"Dude, you waived your right to make fun of people's names when you were named "Donald" ".
"Max, I'm not in the mood for this.. I have a big meeting tomorrow. So, using the keys I've just picked from your pocket, I'm going to your place to sleep it out. Enjoy the party.."
"Touche, Donald. I'll get you for this, though.. Mark my words. Not you, Mark, I was talking to Donald here.." And with that, he vanished back into the party.
Donald left the house and went to sleep at his friend's place.
Just one day later, his friend passed by his place for their weekly game night. Only instead of coming alone, he violated the all-time sacred rule of "no girls on game night". Of course, when they'd made that rule, the chance of them getting a girl on any night, albeit game night, was about less likely than them getting a "get out of jail free" card in real life.. So they hardly ever actually had to enforce the rule. But still, it was going against the rules. He was just about to point that out when Max not-so-subtly excused himself, grabbed his coat and hurriedly left the appartment. He was now alone with a girl whose name he didn't even know. Damn it.
Contrary to his expectations, they turned out to have a lot in common, and he ended up having a great time with her. Just when he started to think that this might lead somewhere, she got a call from her girlfriend. Yes, her girlfriend. If Max had done the slightest bit of research, he'd have realised that this girl had too much in common with him. WAY too much. She stormed out of the house shortly after she hung up, muttering a hurried apology and claiming she was having a huge fight with her better half.
Far from being discouraged after the "Lesbian Fiasco", as they came to know it, his best friend went to the trouble of setting up another date. He called Donald, asked him to meet him up for coffee, and didn't bother to show up. Instead, there was a girl there waiting for him. Unbeknownst to Max, however, it was the same girl Donald had fired not three weeks ago. Needless to say, she was less than thrilled to see him. She brutally savaged any attempts he made at a civil conversation;
"I love meat, but I'm a chicken kinda guy, myself. What about you?" He asked, hoping she'd be mature about this.
"Of course you're a chicken guy; You're a chicken, and you're a guy. Chicken Guy. Do you have any super powers, Chicken Guy? Apart from firing people?" So much for maturity.
"Yeah, I can make a wicked omlette!" Said Donald, hoping she'd take the hint and stop being so touchy.
"It figures, Chicken Guy must have amazing omlette powers. Do eggs obey your every command? Super Heros of the world, beware.. Chicken Guy is here. He'll soft-boil your eggs to oblivion. You stand no chance. MUAHAHAHAHAHA". She actually MUAHAHAHA'ed in public. Nice. He slowly put down his fork, grabbed his coat, left enough money to pay for both their meals and left. He didn't think she noticed.
The following month of his life was jam-packed with terrible blind dates; a blonde who asked him if his Surname was "Duck" and found it so hilarious that she doubled over laughing and choked on her steak (he had to perform the Hiemlich maneuver on her while she was laughing at his name); a Ukranian girl who was pretty as hell but only knew two words of English: "Yes" and "Bathroom" (how Max had set up that date with her, he'd never know); a feminist who thought it was insulting that he tried to pull her chair for her and left before they'd even ordered their food; a Texan girl who seemed nice enough but had a very heavy southern accent and he eventually burst out laughing and she left, feeling hurt (he felt terrible about that); a woman in her late thirties who started asking him how many children he wanted to have and whether or not he was afraid of commitment before they'd ordered the main course; a dude (Max meant that as a joke); a British girl who he found very hot but who found him "quite immature" because he told her he didn't like reading the papers and "rather lacking in taste" because he didn't like tea; and a girl in her twenties who showed up with her mother (because she kept no secrets from her mother).
A couple of months passed without incident and he thought that was the end of that, until one day, Max called and arranged for an outing. He should have seen it coming when he told him the name of the place they were supposed to be going to.. One did not simply ask out his friend on a bro date at a fancy restaurant.. But he'd thought he wouldn't stoop that low.
Of course, he was wrong.
He braced himself, took a deep breath, and looked up.
To his great surprise, she was breath-taking. She turned out to be a beautiful, elegant, age-appropriate, straight, single female who spoke English and had a lot in common with him. They spent hours talking and they couldn't get enough of each other. He really did think this could be the start of something big.
It doesn't matter how many times you fail, or how many wrong people you meet.. As long as you have the right attitude and a best friend like Max, you'll eventually get there. Don't give up. No matter how many terrible relationships you go through or how many appalling people you're set up with, remember..
It only takes one time to meet the right person.
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