I try not to stare but I can’t help myself. It’s like when my mother would say, don’t be rude, don’t look at that little boy’s harelip. Just because she said it, my eyes would automatically focus on the oddity. I tell myself to be a better person, to be more accepting.

But the reality is, I desperately need the money. Rent is due. Daddy’s will is stuck in probate and that bitch stepmother, with her Louis purses and Jimmy Choos, she had the nerve to kick me out of the house. Yes, I am well aware, it is very uncool for a 36-year-old to still be living in her father’s basement but who knew a degree in pet psychology was useless? And everything was hunky dory until he met HER at the Concrete Convention. Yawn. Yeah, like she knew ANYTHING about cement. Next thing I knew, I had a new stepmother. Loved Daddy but he really needed to use his brain instead of his dick when it came to life changing decisions, as in MY life changing.

So here I am, on a “date” with Roger, Samuel, whoever. He’s gotta be older than Daddy. Sheesh. And swear to God, he has a hump. Trying not to stare, but looks an awfully lot like Igor in Young Frankenstein. His jacket lays taut over his “back” and gaps at the neck. Oy!

Dinner was yummy! So glad it was not In n Out again. Humpman totally indulged me with surf and turf. And buff waiter dude, hey, keep the vino pouring, wouldcha? I’m feeling pretty good right now, got a little buzz going, my tummy is happy, and I can’t really see the hump where I’m sitting.

Oh no, where is Humpman taking me now? But what about dessert?