Hello readers. I
fictionally recently went on a date with Lauren aka theVERYsinglegirl. I look like a combination of John Krasinski, Michael Buble, and Jason Segel. I like slushies and the couch. I’m creative, successful, and have a sense of humour that rivals Austin Powers.
Our date started out great! We went to East Side Mario’s (her choice) for dinner. I pretended not to notice when she snorted Diet Coke out her nose (don’t read that wrong) while trying, poorly, to suppress laughing when I said “duty” (I think she heard “doodie”). Immature, yes…but also kind of cute in the right light. It was pretty dark in there, so I said yes when she suggested going back to her place.
That’s when things got weird.
I knew as soon as I walked into her apartment that this couldn’t end well, so I began secretly documenting the evening by taking pictures with my phone.
Here is her living room. Immediately, a few things stood out to me as a bit weird.
A Kramer poster? Really? Either it’s 1993 or this chick is trying way too hard.
I sat in the far left corner of the couch. I noticed a couple of things hiding next to it.
“Oh, that’s not just any weight…” she said.
“And that’s not just any folded mini trampoline…”
After her demonstrations, I could tell she needed some rest. “How about I put on some music?” I offered.
“Oh sure!” she exclaimed. “My CDs are on the wall.”
She has quite the, um, eclectic, selection?
“Sooooooooo, Lil Wayne or Justin Bieber?” I joked.
“You decide,” she said. “Either gets me in the mood…”
I randomly picked Lil Wayne’s album, I Am Not a Human Being. We started to make out as the first song played. At the chorus, I became aware of the lyrics.
…P*ssy a*s n*gga, I don’t want your gonorrhea.
P*ssy a*s n*gga, I don’t want your gonorrhea…
I immediately stopped and sat straight up.
“Is something the matter?” she asked. Is she having a seizure? Oh no, she’s just trying to wink at me. That’s…nice.
“Actually, I’m kind of in the mood for a movie,” I said. “Have anything good?”
She proudly gestured to what she calls, “The Entertainment Zone.” Or “The Big EZ” for short.
“Be careful!” she suddenly screamed. “They’re in alphabetical order.”
I have to admit, it is a pretty impressive collection. I understand why she said she doesn’t get out much. I looked closer.
“Is that a Jeff Probst bobble head?” I asked.
“Is the Pope Catholic?” she responded.
“Is that Jon and Kate Plus 8?”
“IT WAS A GIFT.” Sure…
“Do you actually own Daredevil?”
I could tell she wasn’t very impressed with my questions. I needed to get the mood back to before the gangsta gonorrhea rap. “I see you have some candles. Should we light them?” I asked.
“Sure,” she said. “The lighter is in the kitchen in the drawer under the microwave.”
“And while I’m at it, I’ll grab us a drink?” I offered.
“Great idea! There’s some beer behind the pickle jars.” Did she pluralize that? Must have been a mistake…
I began my quest. Here is her kitchen. It’s seemingly normal, but I came across a few odd things in my journey…
…starting with opening the wrong drawer under the microwave.
Yikes. I slammed it shut. I found the lighter in the next drawer, and moved on to the fridge.
What a sophisticated lady.
She wasn’t kidding about the pickle jars. And is that a Costco-sized pack of turkey pepperettes?
“Wow,” I said. “You must really like pickles and pepperettes!”
“Yeah, I do! You should stay for breakfast!” she called from the couch. Was she just reminded of food and said that, or is that what she intends to serve? Not sure I want to find out…
I returned to the living room, where she was posed on the couch like Kate Winslet in Titanic. “Shall we move this into the bedroom?” she asked in a deep,
man-ish seductive voice.
I’m human, so we headed to her bedroom. Again, it was seemingly normal until I got a closer look.
We removed all the pillows (what is the deal with women and pillows?!) and resumed making out. One of the drawers in her nightstand was left open so I snuck a peek.
That doesn’t even make sense for a girl!
She immediately grabbed my head and turned me the other way.
AHHHH! I knew I could feel someone watching us…
I need a breather. In a panic, I said, “I’m just going to use the washroom,” while rolling her aside.
As I shuffled out of the room, I could feel George’s piercing, sensual gaze following me…
“I finished the last toilet paper roll,” she called after me. “There’s more in the basket above the linen shelves.”
Ah ha! Here’s the basket.
I‘ll just reach up there and….WHAT THE?!
I should really get out of here.
I headed into the washroom and found the deal-breaker.
“I’msuddenlynotfeelingwellthiswasfunweshoulddothisagainsometimedon’tcallmeI’llcallyou…” I stammered while racing out the door.
And that was my date with…
No staging was needed to achieve these photos. Any takers?