Worst First Date Ever

Articles

Holly Winter
Living The Life Of Holly

Worst First Date Ever
Apr. 9, 2003

Ok. Sure. I remember it well. It was my worst first date ever. It was my own fault. I let a woman I hardly knew set us up. Hey. I was game. I figured that Romeo and I could have a quick drink, which would decide whether or not we would dine together. Blind dates didn’t scare me. Well. At least they never had before.

I got to the restaurant early and ordered a drink at the bar.

The waitress found me.

“Are you Holly?” She asked, annoyed.

“Yes I am.” I said, wondering about the attitude.

“John has been waiting for you at the table.” She said, impatiently.

“Oh, really?” Now I was annoyed. I was being forced into a dinner that I didn’t agree to. Great.

She leaned in close whispered. “You are one lucky lady.” She turned, motioning for me to follow.

I touched her elbow to slow her down. “Why exactly am I so lucky?” I know. But my curiosity wouldn’t wait.

She spilled easily. “Corner table. Lamborghini in the parking lot. Armani suit. Roses delivered on the table. Champagne. Special menu just for the two of you.” She leaned in closer. “Wait till you see his shoes.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. This isn’t the first man who has tried to impress me. But. He sounded a bit controlling. And. This was only a first date. I grabbed the waitress’s elbow again.

“How do you know about all of this?” I asked her, staring intently. She wasn’t even the hostess or the manager.

“Oh. I got him talking.” She said, proudly.

Well. I think that the waitress was way better at getting him to talk than I was. Cause. I found him to be a total bore.

I tried to bore him back, but it was impossible. He wasn’t at all focused on me. He was way too busy dropping the names of important people.

“You ever hear of Trump?” Head held high.

“Of course.” That name I do know.

“He’s a good friend of mine.” Eyes squinted, head tilted to side.

“We should all do lunch on day!” I said brightly, not caring.

Nervous laugh. “Maybe. He is so busy these days.” Eyes turned down.

“Oh. Just let me know when.” I joked.

I choked my way through dinner and decided that I deserved dessert. I went to powder my nose in the bathroom and call Fran.

“This may be the end of my friendship with you.” I said, bleakly.

The waitress came into the bathroom. “John was wondering if you were almost done. The dessert is ready.”

Fran apologized. “Really Holly. Finish this date and I will buy you lunches for life. I promise. I promise. Lunches for life.”

“It isn’t worth it.” I mumbled, hanging up. I took baby steps back to the table.

I turned to my nightmare and smiled sweetly. “You sent the waitress into the bathroom to fetch me?” I asked.

“Yes I did!” He said proudly. “I didn’t want to miss a moment of my time with you!”

“That’s not cool.” I said, coolly.

“Oh. You’ll get used to it.” He said, sweetly.

He cleared his throat, leaned forward in his chair and started warbling about being lonely and hating to date and really enjoying this first date with me. I lost focus. The cheesecake was truly the best I had ever had. I was on the fourth bite when he put a little box on the table in front of me.

“What’s that?” I asked, uncaringly.

He had little tears in his eyes. I felt a little foolish. Did he think that I was a jeweler? Was he showing me his dead Grandmother’s necklace or something? What had he been talking about? I took another bite of that divine cheesecake and wondered why he was crying.

I opened the box. There was a ring in it. I know. I should have guessed. But. I wasn’t paying attention. It had a huge diamond set in it. It was a really beautiful ring.

“That is the most beautiful ring I have ever seen.” I said, taking another bite of cheesecake.

He got down on one knee. No kidding. “Holly. Will you marry me?”

Yeah. I know. Big mistake taking that last bite of cheesecake. Big, big mistake. Cause now the whole restaurant was quiet. And I had that big ole bite of cake in my mouth. And there was no way it was going down. And there was no way I could spit it out. I just had to sit there with it lumped up in my mouth. A shlump of cheesecake.

The waitress was crying. I really needed a time out to call my good friend, Ralph and ask for his advice. There was a band there. I didn’t remember there being a band before. I started wondering if I were somehow involved in a taping of a Twilight Zone movie. The thought relaxed me and I could almost swallow the cheesecake. Nope. Couldn’t.

How did the band know that he was going to propose? Oh. Of course. He planned it. He planned on proposing to me before he met me. No way. What in the world did Fran say about me? I must hire her to be my writing publicist. Why does this stuff always happen to me? Ok. My compassion returned. No. Not for him. For me. I took a deep breath.

I picked up my napkin and spit the cheesecake into it. I know. But I did it demurely.

“Oh. Honey. How tempting that offer is. Really. So very tempting. Really. Hmmm. But. When I was in the bathroom, my X called, and he wants to get back together. Sorry.” I said, shrugging my shoulders.

He sat down in the chair and motioned for the band to wait. He lowered his voice. “Can your X buy your brother a Lamborghini?” He asked, smiling?

“Which brother?” I asked, pretending to be interested. My oldest brother is into racing. But they would all love race cars.

“How many do you have?” He asked, calculatingly.

“Three.”

“Ok. You marry me, each of your brothers gets a brand new Lamborghini.” He smiled and nodded his head down and up and down and up.

“How about my sisters?” I asked. Oh. They would be so happy to be remembered in my marriage plans. Not just in the ceremony, but in the real decision.

“How many?”

“Two”

“I will buy each of them a new house.” He said, quickly.

“What about me? What do I get?”

“Me. You get me!”

I know. But. If that’s supposed to be a cure for sibling rivalry, it wasn’t working.

“Oh. Darn it. I just told my X that we could give it another try. Sorry. I gave him my word. In fact, he is waiting for me right now. I have to go. Thanks so much.”

As I stood to leave I slipped the ring on my finger, just to see if I could hold it up. It fit, beautifully. Man. Pretty rock.

He held out his hand. “I guess I’ll keep that ring here with me.”

“Too bad.” we agreed.

About the author: Holly Winter is a teacher and a writer and a flight attendant living in Denver, Colorado, USA. She can be reached at her website or email: Holly@livingthelifeofholly.com

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