Any date you can walk away from without anal tearing…November 19, 2009
So Ninja Vicki’s date with Tag Larkin went… well, she did expect him to throw a table at some point, but running out of the restaurant yelling “abort mission!” was highly unexpected. And something didn’t sit right with Vicki the whole time Tag Larkin was charming the pants off her, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. So she returned to me and Anonymous Doug at the Bass-to-Bass for our fingers, which have been curled around pint glasses for the past six hours.
“So, did you fuck him?” says Anonymous Doug.
“No… but he got uncomfortably close to doing that,” says Ninja Vicki. “Tag Larkin knew I liked violets instead of roses.”
“Why is that?” Anonymous Doug asks.
“Because a boy in seventh grade gave me a rose for Valentine’s Day and I pricked my finger on the thorn and got sporotrichosis,” says Ninja Vicki. “So ever since then I’ve been anti-rose and pro-violet.”
“Your face is pro-violet,” I say. I am drunk.
“Then Tag Larkin said that he was paying for dinner,” says Ninja Vicki.
“But Tag Larkin always goes dutch,” says Anonymous Doug.
“You can go dutch… with your ass!” I say and laugh. I don’t know how I’m still staying on my bar stool.
“Then Tag Larkin complemented me and said I was stunningly beautiful,” says Ninja Vicki.
“That monster!” says Anonymous Doug.
“But he insulted me at the food court,” says Ninja Vicki. “And then he tricked me into dating him… as if he knew that I only like guys who don’t want me.”
“What woman would want me?” I say, slumping over the bar. “They never have…”
“But the real kicker is that Tag Larkin knew I like Lady GaGa,” Ninja Vicki says.
“You do?” Anonymous Doug says, laughing. “You have the worst taste in music ever.”
“I’m a hideous unlovable monster…” I say, falling off my barstool. “And now I’m on the floor.”
“But how would Tag Larkin know my musical tastes?” Ninja Vicki says. “The only person who’s ever seen my iPod selection is… oh mother-cock-fucker!”
Ninja Vicki roots through my pants pocket for my cell phone, and she uses it to dial Mikka.
“Did I just get lucky?” I say from the floor.
“Where’s Samurai Cathy?” she asks as soon as Mikka picks up his phone.
“She’s not here,” Mikka says. “She and Tina the Lesbian just left to go see that shitty Twilight New Moon movie.”
“Wait, Catherine likes Twilight?” Ninja Vicki says, stifling a laugh.
“No, she sees it as a training film on how to kill daywalker vampires,” says Mikka. “So when Robert Pattinson comes to kill us she’ll be ready.”
“Which theater are they going to?” Ninja Vicki says.
“What?” says Mikka.
“Damn it, man! There isn’t time!” Ninja Vicki yells.
“The Colonial Ultraplex,” says Mikka.
Ninja Vicki drops the phone on my stomach and runs out the door.
“I feel cold…” I say, unable to get up from the floor.
“That’s either loneliness or death,” says Anonymous Doug. “Need me to call an ambulance for you?”
Somehow my keys are in my hand. “No… I’ll drive myself.”
To be continued…