When I had finally gotten the nerve to ask out the lovely, and glorious Roisin Kelly, the crush I’d had since grade four, I had pictured things a little differently. I would be suave, witty, interesting. She would be, herself, and gorgeous and find me so charming she’d want us to be exclusive. Things are not going that way, and I feel I’ll be lucky if she even talks to me after. If I could start over, I’d do everything differently.
For one, I would have remembered that my new pants would shrink in the dryer. That way I wouldn’t be stuck with my current “skinny” jeans, making sure I never reproduce in the future. It also means I wouldn’t have split them in the crotch, when I got out of the car to pick Roisin up. Luckily, my shirt was long enough to cover the rip, but not long enough to hide my strange way of walking, and sitting and pretty much anything a normal human does.
If I hadn’t surprised myself splitting my pants, I wouldn’t have dropped the flowers I brought her in the puddle on the driveway. If the flowers weren’t soaked, I wouldn’t have splashed Roisin’s white sweater with muddy water before we could even say hello. I was trying to shake the puddle out, not my best idea. We didn’t have enough time for her to change, so there went being suave.
When we got in the car, Greg decided to introduce himself, “Hi, I’m Greg…woah! You’re so much hotter than this twerp! I thought you were going to be some geek queen, you sure you’re out with the right person?” My eloquent response, “Shut-up you…fart...breath.” Roisin’s look said it all. Thanks Greg! Way to ruin my chances at being witty, that's two strikes.
Needless to say, things were pretty quiet on the way to the restaurant for dinner. I really thought I’d get some redemption there, so I wasn’t too worried. I had booked a reservation at the most romantic steakhouse in town. I’d even memorized how to correctly pronounce everything. There was no way dinner was going to be a bust! She was a vegetarian.
On to the cinema, where we currently find ourselves! I had originally decided on a rom-com but since everything was going so disastrous I let her pick the flick. She chose a horror. My least favourite genre, because I’m not saying I get scared, but I get very cold watching horror. The goosebumps, from the high AC, makes me super uncomfortable. Greg was pretty excited, he wasn’t happy about seeing a romantic film but a slasher was right up his alley. So here we are, me trembling with ripped pants, her scowling with a muddy sweater and my brother happily watching with heavy mouth breathing.
It’s okay though. I’ll get the next date right: you know what they say, the thirteenth time is a charm! "Now Roisin, look into my eyes…”
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