Riding My Pony
The name of this post is designed to irritate my date for tonight. That strategy may be completely inappropriate, but it's how I operate. I try to make them not like me so that I don't feel so powerless if things go awry.
Actually, I'm kidding. I'm pleased and excited to be going on a real date. Planned and everything. And secrets. I love that there are secrets and surprises in store. I wonder if this date will be anything like that last real date I went on? That was in 1985.
Now, hold on, don't chastise me yet. I realize I have written about a few dates here on this blog. But tonight feels different. I'm not going out with somebody I just met over the Internet. I'm not going out with a guy who gave me his number at a bar. I'm going out with a real live person I've met before and have actually spent time with. Hell, we watched a movie together at his house! And he still wants to take me on a real date? Nothing like that has happened to me in years.
So, I'm going to try to remember my date in 1985 so that I know what to expect. I already know that my ride tops the 1985 ride. He's picking me up in his sexy red truck. Pony thinks his truck looks like a muscleboy bottom. (If we are sticking with the gay vernacular, the car in which I picked up my date back in 1985 was an aging troll...it was a 1978 Monte Carlo).
Based on my date with Melissa Bishop from Blue Springs High School, I assume we will drive to 7-11 and sit in the parking lot. Then we will ask people to buy us a bottle of Boone's Farm Strawberry Hill. Pony will probably have big hair teased with lots of hairspray (aerosol, of course) and will talk incessantly about "Lonnie", his ex. He will still be reeling from his breakup with Lonnie.
Tonight's date will have a theme based on a Phil Collins song. I'll receive a champagne flute with the words "One More Night" written in cursive on the side of the flute. We'll sneak into the bathroom and drink strawberry wine together. He won't try to touch me, and I won't try to touch him. We won't sneak kisses or do WORSE THINGS!
By 9:30, we'll both be drunk. We'll pretend to be a lot more drunk than we actually are. We'll take pictures of each other every few minutes. I assume we'll be at a large hotel for this date, so we will have fun pushing all the buttons on the elevator as we get off of it. That way the next passenger will have to stop at every floor. We'll think we're incredibly funny, and we will laugh and laugh.
When the song "One More Night" comes on, Pony and I will dance together very romantically. Then, when Phil starts singing the chorus, Pony will break away from me and say, "I have to find Lonnie!" He will drag me across the floor, and when he sees Lonnie they will embrace. I will go look for the bottle of Boone's Farm, and I'll ditch Pony for the rest of the night so I can hang out with my friends and tell them what a bitch my date turned out to be.
Then I will start drinking rum and will no longer be pretending to be drunk. I will end up getting home at ten in the morning with my pants inside out and chocolate cake smeared all over them. And I will only have one of my shoes. I will be told by my friends that I threw my other shoe out the car window because it had chocolate cake on it.
If Pony can duplicate my senior prom experience, he will truly win the award for worst date ever. Otherwise, I'm afraid Melissa will retain her title.
Pony asked me to wear my shirt with martini glasses embroidered on it. I'm happy to comply. I figure he wants it to match his color scheme. Plus it will probably go better with the wrist corsage he's buying me.