Yepper… I’m the turkey
How about a story where the writer is the moron….. err, I mean, the turkey.
My ex-boyfriend Terry and I stayed good friends in spite of our breakup. Terry was in a band and I came to see them. There was a nice looking guy playing harmonica whose name was Joseph.
I got a phone call the next day and expected Terry and answered “Joe’s morgue” and a voice went “Ah, is this Rikki?” Ooops. It was Joe.
We decided to meet at the mall.. you know, the paranoid meet at a public place.
I go outside and my car has a flat tire. Great. And it won’t start. Even better.
I call Joe, tell him I’m going to be late. Then I call Terry and ask him to give me a ride to the mall.
Can you imagine what Joe thought when I show up with my Ex? Yepper, she’s a nut job.
As we are standing there talking, Joseph asks me what’s on my shirt. There is a HUGE grease stain, and I have grease on my face from trying to work on the car. Impressive, aren’t I?
We go to the movie theatre and there is no air conditioning. So we sit in the theatre. Now, not only do I have grease on me, I’m sweating like a pig.
We go out to eat and I’m suppose to pay…. except I left my wallet in the front seat of my car. Joseph gracious pays but I’m sure he thinks he’s on the date from hell or I’m some dumb blonde who isn’t blonde!
Joseph takes me to the auto store (isn’t that romantic?) to get fix-a-flat and takes me home and jumps my car.
As he’s about to leave me on the steps, he goes to give me a kiss except I leaned over a bit too far and fell on him and both of us end up on the ground…. right in a mud puddle.
So, he went home with muddy clothes and a fat lip from where my hard head hit him. Yeah, I’m impressive.
Did he go out with me again? Silly boy did.
As a matter of fact, we celebrated our 11th anniversary last April.