Another one. One in a million of these dates that I go on because I choose not to cook. But a girl’s gotta eat, capiche? Why fire up a stove when you can just swipe?

The stepmother has forbade me from entering the premises of my childhood home, the bitch. She’s vacaying in Costa Rica. I hope a giagantoid botfly embeds itself into one of her enhanced butt cheeks and lays millions of eggs. I can see it now, she’s in her bikini next to Julio or whoever, and these worms start crawling out of her ass and then turn into flies and surround her in a swarm, some flying up her nose and some into her ears. Oh my God, sweet revenge.

What, he’s ordering for me? But I hate chicken! And he ordered in pidgeon French? Poulet this, asshole. I bat my eyes and ask coyly where he learned to speak French like a native. Oh right, thought I heard a tinge of that authentic community college accent. 

I tap lightly on the rim of my wine glass, make eye contact with the waiter and hope he knows that he should not be letting me go anywhere near empty. I hold my hand out a slight minute too long, admiring my nails. That mamasan really did a great job this afternoon, I must say.

And the sparkler I picked up today looks amazing with the nails!

So I took adavantage of the bitch being gone and strolled into the house today. Staff didn’t notice and didn’t care. They hate her too. Rummaged through the bobbles and tried on some dresses. She really thinks she’s a size 8? Hah! The sparkler was a nice discovery. 

A strange shadow is cast over his face. I study the face, not hearing any of the words, as his lips are working at a rapid pace. And then it hit me, he has a fivehead. What’s that cartoon character who is all forehead? My date is all forehead and brow. Beady little eyes and an even smaller mouth. He could be a vole.

I smile and comment that he must really be a brainiac, based on the size of his bulbous and bumpy head. I sip my wine. Funny I should mention that, he says. Really? How is that funny ha ha, that you have a head like the Elephant Man? John Merrick, that was his name. I saw that movie. Cher was in it. I hear her, “If you could turn back time.” I personally would have had some head reduction surgery.