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The Making of a Cat Lady

edited April 2017 in Dishes
Level: Chef

Your basket:

Main Ingredients:
distant acquaintance

Spice Pack:
1/3 smidge of trust
1 tablespoon of remorse

I knew I shouldn't have trusted my mom. Why on earth did I believe that she would know what I was looking for in a man? Also, why on earth did I even let myself be persuaded into going on a date with her distant acquaintance's son? I was perfectly happy being single and channeling all of my love and affection towards my cat. The last thing I wanted to do was go on a blind date with some dude I'd never even met before. But no, I just had to trust my mom (who does that?).

"David's nice," she insisted. "And you're a 22 year old girl who's never even had a boyfriend yet. I'm worried about you."

Well shit; sorry for being perfectly content and complete on my own (I'm also sorry that no one I like ever likes me back but I'm not about to open up that can of worms right now). But she pleaded so passionately and talked the dude up so much I couldn't help but say yes. After all, mother knows best, right?

Wrong. David and I made arrangements to meet at a local bar at 8:00. Being the punctual person I am, I showed up around 7:55. As I sat at the bar twiddling my thumbs, I forced myself to stay in my seat instead of run away and retreat back to my apartment. And so I waited. And waited. And waited.

45 minutes passed. The only reason I even waited that long was because the bartender was actually an aspiring rapper who I genuinely enjoyed talking to. I had pretty much given him my entire life story when David finally decided to show up.

Now, I was already pretty certain that I wasn't going to like him purely based on the fact that he was almost an hour late without even trying to contact me, but seeing him walk into the bar really sealed the deal. David looked like one of those trust fund babies whose daddy would sue you if you even sneezed in his general direction. He was wearing Sperrys, bermuda shorts, and a button down shirt. I'm sorry, did I miss the memo? Was this place actually a frat party, not a bar?

David sat down without an apology and immediately launched into a tirade about how some valet didn't find his car fast enough, so obviously he had to report the "incompetent prick" to his boss, and of course that took a lot more time than it should've.

"I just don't understand why all these lazy people are just so ungrateful," he said, astonished. "They wouldn't have jobs if it weren't for people like me, so I deserve to have the best treatment."

David's blackberry suddenly chirped, so he pulled it out of his pocket and read the text. His face contorted as if he has just swallowed a spoonful of horseradish and he promptly left without any explanation.

I'd had enough at that point. After making sure to leave a nice tip for the bartender, I gathered all my things and dipped. I felt a tiny bit of regret knowing that this failed date would only leave my mom disappointed, but I quickly brushed that aside.

Sorry mom, looks like it'll be just me and my cat for a while.
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