Wednesday, November 30, 2011

"The Dating Game", episode 4 - "Minnie the Moocher"

To read episode 3, click here

   So a few years back, I decided to give the local phone chat lines a try, and I stared talking to this early 30s woman, very pleasant, employed (something you definitely have to ask on those lines), intelligent-sounding, and with whom I developed a mutual interest. After a few conversations, we decided to meet at a nearby restaurant (we lived failry close to each other) for dinner.
   When we met, I thought I had hit the jackpot! She was gorgeous, with flawless dark skin, and a petite, but very curvy build. She certainly looked like she could have been one of the models in the commercial for the phone dating service, as opposed to a couple of others I had brief encounters with that far, far, far from model material. And she was every bit as pleasant in person as on the phone. She was also particularly excited about getting to eat, as she couldn't have stressed any more than she did just how hungry she was.

   So we ordered our food: three appetizers (one for me, and two for her), and two very sizeable entrees. It was at this point that I became even more in awe of her than I already had been. When she said she was hungry, she wasn't kidding; this chick could EAT! After the appetizers, breadsticks, salad, and about half the entree, I was pretty much done. She, on the other hand, threw down on the appetizers and her entree, and when she saw I was slowing down, started picking at mine. Holy shit, I thought; how does that little body hold all that food? Did she starve herself to get ready for this date? Is she going to go into the bathroom and puke it all up when we're done?

 We finished eating, I paid the bill, and we started to leave. On the way out, I asked what she wanted to do next. "I could really go for some dessert!" she said. Dessert? You gotta be fucking kidding me! I'm ready for an alka seltzer and a nap, and you want dessert? So I followed her to the nearest Coldstone Creamery (which I had never been to), and we got ourselves some ridiculous orders of ice cream. She followed me back to my place, and wolfed down all of her ice cream (and some of mine) while we watched a couple of movies before she went home.

   A few days later, I make spaghetti, and as is often the case, I made way too much for me to eat without getting sick of it after having it 3 or 4 days in a row, so I give the fair lady a call to invite her to dinner.
"Ooooh, spaghetti",  she said "I love spaghetti. I'll be right over! I hope you can cook!"
20 minutes later, she was at my door, appetite in tow. She made sure I was not going to have to worry about 3 days of spaghetti for leftovers, that's for sure. And what's more, she topped it off by finishing the last of my Coldstone Creamery Ice Cream from our date a couple days before hand. As always, she was pleasant, charming, and beautiful, so I didn't mind her appetite one bit. However, I didn't realize at the time that I was setting a bad precedent.
   You know how they say you shouldn't feed a stray animal, because you won't be able to get rid of it? Well, the same applied to this chick. She was over a couple times a week, and occasionally all weekend, eating me out of house and home. Now on the one hand, I didn't mind. I like to cook, and eating alone isn't always that much fun;  besides, she was great company, and I certainly enjoyed every moment around her. On the other hand, she was beginning to blow my food budget to smithereens, while not contributing a thing to our dinner dates. I mean, you'd think she would bring some dessert or a bottle of wine or something, but nope, she managed to show up every time empty handed and empty stomached, eat like it was her last meal, while making some vague promises about cooking for me or taking me out, promises that never came to fruition.,.

   So one day when she was supposed to come over, I called and told her I was out of ice cream, and asked her to stop and pick up some. When she arrived, she had a bag in hand, and went to put it in the kitchen. As usual, we had our dinner, and headed to the living room to watch a couple of our favorite shows. At some point I excused myself to go to the bathroom, and she announced that she was going to get some ice cream. When I got back from the bathroom, she was back in the living room, with a pint of ice cream - and one spoon...
   "So where's mine?" I asked.
   "Oh, did you want some?"
   "Well, you've been coming over here all these times eating my food and ice cream, you mean you couldn't bring ice cream for BOTH of us the one time I asked?"
So she reluctantly shared her ice cream with me, and from then on always stopped to get enough for us both. No meals from her still, but the ice cream was a start, I guess...

   After several more weeks of this, my birthday was approaching. Normally I don't make much of a deal about my birthday, but with this woman, I made it a point to stress that my birthday was coming up, because I wanted to see what this hussy would do about it, if anything. She suggested going out to dinner, since we hadn't gone out much once I started feeding her home cooked meals. So on my birthday, she came and picked me up, we went to dinner, had a great time, and ate well- and a lot- as was always the case with her. Then came the waiter with the bill, and I gave her a look that said, "hey it's my birthday, what you gonna do?" and she looked at me like "Negro, please, I know you don't think I'm paying!" So guess who paid?

   So fine, I paid (I was prepared for that likelihood anyway). We drove back to my place with me having a bit of an attitude, but I figured I'm gonna make up for this later...then we get home, she changes into something more comfortable, which took my mind off of paying for dinner real fast...but then:
"I have to ask you something."
"Can I borrow $100?"
"Say what? You trying to borrow money from me, on my BIRTHDAY???"
"Come on, baby, there's this dress I want to buy."
"You want money from me on my birthday to buy something for yourself?"
"Well, it would be for you too. It's a sexy dress, it's tight and low cut, and it shows off my boobs. You know how much you love the twins..." she shook them at me in her slinky negligee as she said this.
Yes, I certainly DO love those beautiful dark brown globes of perfection...I wonder how they would look in - no no no, snap out of it!
"Let me see if I got this straight," I finally said as I came to my senses. "You've been coming over here a  few days a week for a couple of month, eating me out of house and home for free, promising to take me out or cook for me sometimes but never keeping that promise, then on my birthday, we go out, and you don't offer to pay for dinner, don't give me so much as a damn card, and THEN ask me for money? You done lost your damn mind!"

Well, let's just say that ended up being much less than the best birthday I've ever had...




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