Dirty Dancing
One night I met friends to have a nice, quiet cocktail and some good conversation. Instead we had too many cocktails, danced and flirted with all the cute boys we met. I made a game time decision at the end of the night to say goodnight to the ladies and left with the guy I was dancing with all night. Turns out Mr. Wonderful was an unemployed struggling musician who just got fired from his bartending job at a douchey night club. You’d think that would be enough for me to rethink this little venture, but no, I was a real glutton for punishment that night.
We got to his house, which was just a short walk from my favorite coffee shop (which happened to be around the corner from my office). Making small talk I noticed a few pictures of him holding a baby and I remarked on the baby’s cuteness, to which he replies that it is his, and he’s a month old. He then told me that his baby momma lives in Wisconsin, which is too bad because babies are great for picking up chicks. I was rendered speechless and then I noticed he was pulling out the futon in the living room. Taken aback I asked what he was doing. Turns out he sleeps in the living room here because he just moved in with his dad and he doesn’t have a bedroom. WTF? Who brings a girl home to the couch in their dad’s house? The look on my face no doubt betrayed my horror because he said, “No worries, my dad’s cool.” Then he gestured to his gigantic bong that was sitting on the coffee table.
In the morning Mr. Wonderful told me a hilarious story about how he was planning on going over to his ex-girlfriend’s place, but then he met me and I’m “way hotter than her” so he changed his game plan. I’m thinking this whole scenario can’t get any worse. And then it did. I asked for him to give me a lift home, but he said he couldn’t because he and his dad share a minivan and his dad took it to work very early this morning. He’d be home at 11am at which time Mr. Wonderful could drive me home. I didn’t really like this plan. For one thing, Mr. Wonderful’s dad had already seen me asleep on the couch, when he left for work. I didn’t want to have to make awkward and polite chit-chat with the dad when he got home from work. While I rethought my exit strategy, I asked what his dad does to work such odd hours.
Turns out that his dad is my favorite coffee shop guy. Serves me right.
(Sorry OP!)
