An Apology To Our First Double Date Participants
This is so embarrassing.
Dear Mike and Tammy,
I wanted to apologize for the other night. Alicia and I were thrilled to have you over, but I can’t help but feel like I put a damper on the evening. It was my first real “double date” and I just, well. I blew it.
First, I don’t know what I was thinking when you arrived. Tammy, when you came in for a hug, I just came in way too hot and went for this chest bump thing. I mean like a real, boom-shakalaka chest bump. It was actually pretty sweet. That’s why I started doing my signature cabbage patch touchdown dance. It felt so real! Until I realized I knocked the wind out of you and you were gasping for air. That was less sweet. I’m sorry.
And Mike, you stuck your hand out for a nice, mature handshake. And then I — well, we all know what I did next. I wrapped my arms around your waist and hoisted you over my shoulder like a fireman and started spinning you around. I don’t know what that was. Then I started slapping your butt with both of my hands yelling “We got a live one!” Very immature. And Alicia was looking on, so embarrassed. And Tammy was still gasping for air. I really apologize. I don’t know what came over me.
Everything sort of improved after that, thank God, until the pizza delivery guy arrived and I was all like, “Oh my gosh, Chet? Is that you? From Nashville summer of ‘82?” And Chet was all like “My name’s not Chet, it’s Paul.” And I just kept insisting, like, “Chet, wow you look great! What are you up to these days?” and he just kept saying “Please, sir, don’t hurt me.” I’ve never met that man. I’ve never even been to Nashville. I was born in 1986. I don’t know why I did that.
Jeez, what a fool I am, huh? I just wanted to impress you both. That’s why I spit out my first bite of pizza and yelled, “This doesn’t taste like mama’s pie!” and then stood up and threw my slice at the wall. And when I hastily marched around the table collecting everyone’s pizza slices out of their hands and put them all in the toaster oven, I just wanted to seem like I knew what I was doing. Which I totally didn’t. Which was probably pretty obvious when all of our pizza burned in the toaster oven. I was hoping you might think I was a foodie or something, so I finished my burnt piece, yelled “Mmmm, just like mama’s,” then finished everyone else’s burnt pieces. And then I put the rest of the pizza in the toaster oven and burned it all then ate that too and insisted that I liked it that way because that’s how mama used to make it. It was so gross. I’m so embarrassed. I can’t apologize enough.
Tammy, I feel I owe you a special apology. Not just because of the chest bump thing (because that was actually sweet), but because of how I acted during Scrabble. When you played “WHAM” and I said you couldn’t do that because “WHAM” is a sound and not a word, I was just jealous. That was such a good play. And when I played “KKSCHP” and you told me that’s not a word and I said, “Well you played a sound, Tammy, and KKSCHP is the sound it makes when I eat nachos,” I was still just jealous of your “WHAM.”
After everything that happened, I don’t blame you for wanting to end the night a little bit early. I mean, I was acting like a buffoon. And I’m sorry you couldn’t leave for another hour because I hid your shoes. It was just something that I thought would be fun. But I really am sorry you had to sift through a shoebox full of coded letters signed by Benjamin Franklin (I actually wrote them!) to decipher where they were hidden. I worked for, like, a week on that model Liberty Bell that your shoes were hidden under. Or so you thought! Because what was actually under the very cool model Liberty Bell was a pair of antique bifocals that led you to your next clue. Anyway, I’m really sorry you had to walk home with no shoes.
Gosh, I just feel terrible. I hope you both can forgive me, because Alicia and I would love to have you over again soon. Maybe for Monopoly this time!
