DATING CUSTARD ENTHUSIASTS
My Date Tried to Give Me His Custard
He had a lot of it
My long blonde hair cascaded down the back of the black, leather couch while my head rested against the cushion. The longer the stranger talked, the more my sitting position turned into a slouch.
The stranger began to cry as I looked on awkwardly. Her drunken crying grabbed the attention of others at the party, each of them equally intoxicated as me and unable to cope with emotions.
Finally, her boyfriend wandered over and escorted her to the corner of the room where they loudly argued about adopting another cat.
The last one obviously ran away for a bullshit-free life.
Damien collapsed onto the couch next to me with a beer in his hand.
“What’s going on with them?” He whispered to me.
“I think one of them ate their cat,” I replied.
He laughed and took a swig of his beer.
Damien was a guy I’d met in a bar several weeks earlier. We’d been out on a couple of dates and he seemed shockingly normal. At twenty-five, he worked in a desirable job and owned a house.
He invited me to a house party he was hosting and I agreed to stop by with my friend, Sasha. She had…
