My little cherubims, let's all come together to briefly honor those few hours before you exit the safety of your apartment, put on your fresh, but not show-offy kicks, and head to a non-threatening location in your respective city to wear your heart on your goddamn face and show the world that you're choosing to show interest to another human being in a public setting for the first time. I am talking, of course, about the first date. None of us really know the most proper way to approach the subject. We don't want to plan too much and sound overly obsessed, but we also don't want to appear so passive that the fact we're evening meeting up with this person is a goddamn treasure for them. But when all plans are said and done, I think we can all agree that those hours leading up to the meeting time are some of the most anxiety-driven, psyche-wracking, negative thought-provoking moments of our short 20something lives. So let's go through the motions, shall we?
5PM: Ok, Done with work for the day. Oh my god I think I ate four break room donuts today. I feel like a whale. An office whale. Did I not even think about the next few hours ahead? Ugh. Ok. Let's just get home and shower. I smell like Tom Hanks' beard in Cast Away after he loses Wilson in the ocean. That was so sad. Also, how long did they have to film that? Didn't Tom lose like 40 pounds within a second? I should find out how he did that.
5:30PM: Pretty sure someone was trying to pick pocket me on the train. Good thing I smelled bad. Alright let's do a quick bathroom mirror examination. Oh my god who replaced my face with Gary Bussey's? Maybe if I wear a ski mask tonight he'll never know I just recovered from a period of extreme upper lip sweat. Is that a real disease? Note to self: Google "diseases with upper lip sweat symptoms."
6PM: Definitely fell asleep for a few seconds in the shower. Oh no, what if he tries to sleep with me tonight and I have a sudden case of narcolepsy? Also, what if he wants to sleep with me tonight? Should I bring an overnight bag just in case? Will he think that's too forward? Yes. Yes of course he will you IDIOT.
6:30PM: Anddddd my pants have a crotch rip in them. God, if you're out there, I'm picking up the signs that you're putting down ok? So just lay off. Those donuts were artisanal so I wasn't about to just let them sit there. Fine. I'll put a dress on. He's gonna think I actually choose to wear dresses in my real life. THAT'S FUNNY. I don't even know who I am anymore. Oh thank god it still fits.
7PM: Is it bad if you've owned the same make-up for three years straight? Am I susceptible to getting gangrene now? Oh well, I don't have time. Who needs all 10 fingers anyways? I wonder if he'd hold my hand if I only had three fingers on one hand... I should see a therapist.
7:30PM: FUCK he's gonna be here in 30 minutes and I still look like the second coming of Samara. I just spent an hour trying to count my gray hairs. Whatever. I'll just do a middle part and cover my face in hair. Maybe guys like that long-haired pouty Instagram model look. If I just cover my face with my hair, maybe he'll never notice. Wait a second. Am I hot enough to be an Instagram model? I'll look into that. There's probably a job posting somewhere.
7:45PM: He just texted me saying he's gonna be right on time. No one is ever right on time! You're supposed to give a 15-minute window where I tell you I'll be late because I had to feed my neighbor's cat, or some other bullshit line. When in reality, I was doing pump-up chants to myself in the mirror that no award is received without trying or listening to "Beautiful" by Christina to remind myself that she even thinks she's a piece of shit sometimes. And this is CHRISTINA we're talking about. Ok fuck. Where's my purse?
7:55PM: Ok bitch. He's gonna be here any minute. I want you to go in there, and TAKE WHAT'S YOURS! THIS IS YOUR TIME! THIS IS YOUR YEAR WHERE THINGS GO RIGHT! KNOCK EM DOWN! ROLL EM AROUND! COME DEFENSE WORK! But don't you dare have sex with him tonight! You know you're better than that. But, if things go well, maybe he can cop a feel. Under the shirt, over the bra. Deal breaker.
8:02PM: *ding dong* FUCKKKKKKKKK *breath*
Hey! So sorry I didn't hear the bell the first time! I was feeding my neighbors cat.
He has no idea...
I love first dates.