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You Have Killed Me
Oct. 28th, 2014 05:28 pmI went to dinner last night with some guy who, although not much older than me, looked ancient and like the father on Alf. But looks aren't everything, right? I knew he was on disability for some weird sleep disorder, which bothered me, because I consider my life one big sleep disorder (It was 2:00 in the morning when I wrote this, for instance) and nobody pays my ass for it, but still I persisted.
Eventually the topic came around to living situations, and his was that he lived with his parents. I clammed up, vaginally and otherwise. "Do you have transportation?" I asked carefully, suddenly realizing my choice of words could have included public transit. No, he admitted, he'd borrowed his mom's car to drive here. It was at that point that she called. He showed me his phone, for unknown reasons. "Mom" it read. I had gotten catatonic at that point and spent the remainder of the date shoving black beans around my plate. Goddammit, why couldn't I at least have gotten refried beans out of this?
He spent the rest of the date constantly talking about the guy behind us who looked like "a young Tom Cruise." Finally he broke that monotony with, "You're not much for eye contact, are you?" I looked up and locked eyes with him, silently communicating that this was not happening. Not even if you didn't look like the father on Alf, I was not going to bone you. But thanks for the burrito.
Eventually the topic came around to living situations, and his was that he lived with his parents. I clammed up, vaginally and otherwise. "Do you have transportation?" I asked carefully, suddenly realizing my choice of words could have included public transit. No, he admitted, he'd borrowed his mom's car to drive here. It was at that point that she called. He showed me his phone, for unknown reasons. "Mom" it read. I had gotten catatonic at that point and spent the remainder of the date shoving black beans around my plate. Goddammit, why couldn't I at least have gotten refried beans out of this?
He spent the rest of the date constantly talking about the guy behind us who looked like "a young Tom Cruise." Finally he broke that monotony with, "You're not much for eye contact, are you?" I looked up and locked eyes with him, silently communicating that this was not happening. Not even if you didn't look like the father on Alf, I was not going to bone you. But thanks for the burrito.
