Cassie is getting ready for her date. She is very excited. It’s not only because he is good-looking, although that helps, it’s because she thinks he might be her future husband. She knows its silly to have such high hopes for a man she only talked to for five minutes, but when he wrote his number on her hand in green pen yesterday, she felt chills. Plus its nice to know that he is good-looking, because when she does Internet dating, this is not always the case.
She puts on her dark red lipsticks, slips on her black spiked heels, and heads out the door. Tonight she feels like Carrie Bradshaw, and she is pretending her purple dress is a Gucci, and not from the sales rack at Macy’s. By the time she reaches the restaurant her feet are in pain, but she feels no sacrifice is too great for her future husband.
“Hello,” he says when he sees her. He is even more handsome than she remembers him; this will definitely be a good date. They sit down at a table near a window. “I have a joke for you ,” he says.
“Whose there “
“Chickens don’t have last names”
She can barely manage a smile when she hears this joke. So he isn’t funny, she thinks. I don’t need a funny husband. However he proceeds to ask her what her favorite music is, and while she is in the middle of mentioning her favorite bands, he interrupts her to give her a list of all the country songs he’s listened to since age 6. So he’s not husband material, she thinks. Perhaps he’s second date material.
She starts telling him about her favorite movie, but he interrupts her again to tell her that he hates movies. “I mean they are good for listening to during naps, but not much else.” For the first time that evening she is happy she is not wearing a Gucci dress, for she would not have wanted to waste a Gucci on a guy she will never see again.