A Sharp Mood Kill
Most of the posts that I read on here are about how MVWD can be blamed on the other person. In this case, I’m pretty sure that I was, inadvertently, someone else’s Very Worst Date.
I had been divorced for about two years, and was fully enjoying dating in my mid 30’s. I had been on two very promising, successful dates with “D”. The first date had been drinks and we ended up talking for three hours. The second date had been the Ferry Building Farmer’s Market in San Francisco, and we walked and talked, ate fruit and bread, and enjoyed the amazing view of the bay. It was a really good time, and I sensed that she’d had fun as well. It was D that made the plans for the third date, the following Saturday night. She was excited about meeting my dog as she really liked Labradors. I suggested that she stop by my house and play with my dog a little bit, before we headed out to the restaurant that she wanted to try. D thought that was a great idea.
It was the Saturday night before Thanksgiving, and she was due to arrive at around 7:00. I had finished getting ready and had half an hour before she arrived. I did a quick check around the house to make sure there wasn’t anything incriminating lying around. I hid the bathroom reading material, I made sure that the bed was made in case she wanted to take a tour of the house, I sprayed some air freshener around the house (just in case) and still had 15 minutes to spare.
As I was hosting Thanksgiving for my family in the coming week, I figured that since I had some time to kill, I might as well sharpen my knives for Thanksgiving, so that I didn’t have to do it with my nieces and nephews running around when family came over. So I took out almost every kitchen knife that I had and started sharpening them on the kitchen island with my electric sharpener.
D was right on time and the doorbell rang 15 minutes later. She fell in love immediately with my dog, and they started playing in the living room. I told her that I’d pour her some wine and, when she was done messing around with the dog in the living room, to come into the kitchen, I just had to finish this project I was working on. I could hear her say something in the living room, but I couldn’t tell what she said as the knife sharpener was too loud. “Come in here” I yelled, “ I can’t hear you”
… As she walked into the kitchen, that’s when she saw them… every knife that I owned, sitting there on the kitchen island, laid out by size. (I’m very organized) From 12 inch chef’s knife, to the 8 inch boning knife. The LED lights from the light fixture over the island must have lit them up spectacularly.
She sort of stood there stunned for a second. I was completely clueless as to what that must have looked like to a woman I’d only met twice, and a woman who had never been in my house before. She stammered something about an emergency at home that she needed to get back to immediately, and left before I could even begin to find out what the problem was. I texted her a couple of times that night to see how she was doing, but there was no response.
Just before I went to bed, I walked to the kitchen island to put the knives away was when it hit me. I felt like a total moron. I never heard from her again. I emailed her an explanation but got no response.
Sorry D! I wasn’t thinking! I’m really not a psychopath, I swear.
