I think God just wants me to date myself. Why, you ask? Well because my last attempts of “going on a date” have been comedic catastrophes. Let me tell you what happened on my “date”, prepare yourself it’s a loooonnnggg story.
So I’m hanging out with a friend of mine who suggests we do this double date thing and I’m like okay cool, what does the guy look like? And don’t call me shallow, I believe there must be some level of attraction; if you don’t agree, eff y’all, I’m a selective breeder. She shows me a picture, I’m like nah. She insists. I give in. In my mind, I’m taking one for the team and at the very least I can see a free movie –this thought process was problem #1.
Problem #2: The guys tell us (via phone) “Hey, we’re just gonna do a kick back type thing and hang out. We’ll bring red box movies and wine.” I’m like, when the hell did I agree to ‘hang out’ aka a cheap date with a man I have no interest in?
Problem #3: The guys show up.
Problem #4: The guys show up with no wine and
fucking bootleg DVDs.
I know what you’re thinking, I should’ve just left at this point. These guys were too damn cheap to grab some even some $3 Oak Leaf wine from Wal-Mart and $1.29 red box movies. They walk up in the house with some bootleg movies they probably borrowed from Uncle Tommy who works at the barbershop and got them for free. My friend insists to the guys that we go to the movies and they reluctantly agree, so I stay.
Problem #3.5: My “date” was short. Granted I’m short, I love tall guys. I say once again: I shoulda, left.
Problem #5: Before we leave for the movies, my friend’s “date” turns on the tv to catch the score of the game. “It’s the playoffs” he said. Did I mention he was an asshole? I’d already been given the “play nice” speech because I told my friend he was a jackass.
Problem #6: They pop open my friend’s wine and proceed to drink her alcohol.
Problem #7: My burrito went missing. I had a burrito in my purse and it disappeared. Now I’m frustrated AND hungry, I communicate this to my “date” and he suggests we, emphasis on the we, go get me, emphasis on the me, something to eat.
Problem #8: We drove my car to get food. I’m not truly tripping because my “date” rode with his friend. Fine. As long as he pays for my food I’ll let it slide. However, AS SOON as we step into the restaurant and up to the register to order, this nigga says “Aww man, I gotta get some of this alcohol out of my system. I gotta use the bathroom. Yo, you know where the bathroom is?” At this point, I’m thinking you can go piss on yourself and walk home for all I care. But since it’s not socially acceptable to smack people, I politely said “I’m not sure.” And turned to finish my transaction. On the ride back I made sure to turn up the music just loud enough that conversation was not desirable or possible.
Problem #9: They spend so much time watching TV we miss the first start time of the movie.
Problem #10: They tried to make my homegirl drive. At this point all I have are expletives to say so I opt not to say anything at all.
Problem #11: They wanted to stop by the gas station so they could pick up Four Lokos… for themselves. But no worries, they bought a bottle of wine that me and my homegirl got a sip of before they turned it up. -_- I refused to have any more after they put their cheap little lips on it.
Problem #12: We get to the movie theater, these chumps bypass the ticket booth and attempt to walk past the poor man in the wheelchair collecting ticket stubs. They bum rush him claiming they had to “use the bathroom” leaving me and my homegirl at the door for collateral.
We’re then informed that we’re too late to get into the movie by an employee. So not only did I have to sweet talk two managers into letting me in to the movie but I also had to pay while my date managed to get off scotch free all night!
Yo, when I tell you I went angry black woman once we left that theater. My head might have spun a few times, that’s how pissed I was. Needless to say, there are two men walking around without any balls because I felt the need to emasculate them after all the b*tch moves that were made that night.
Never again fam. Never. Again.