Online dating services are a joke. The only people on there are either desperate or not looking for anything serious. Guys must think its like prostitution without pay. I even had one guy ask me "why else would you put your profile online unless you we're looking for a one night stand?" I left him and took a cab home.
I've tried dating patients, but that's never worked out in the past. I've been an assistant in Dr. Haan's office for nearly three years and every guy that's asked me out is either married or gay, so you can understand my skepticism when Gary asked me on a date.
I told him I was dating someone, to which he nodded expectantly. "The pretty ones are always taken." He walked out after his cleaning with a polite smile that left me feeling terribly guilty. I remember beating my self up about that all weekend. I was sitting at home by myself flipping through endless Netflix selections and I said to myself "You loser, you could be out on a date right now but instead you're watching re-runs of unsuccessful TV shows!" I shoved a handful of popcorn in my mouth and tried not to cry.
Imagine my surprise when he showed up on Monday with a bouquet of daisies. "I know you said you were dating someone, but how serious is it? I've been trying for years to working up the courage to ask you out." It took all of my collective willpower not to leap into his arms right there.
Our first date was amazing. A relaxing dinner followed by a nice stroll downtown. He walked me to the door and I expected a kiss but he just smiled and wished me goodnight. We've been on several dates since and he's been a perfect gentleman. Tonight I'm making him dinner and we're going to watch old movies together. I'm hoping to get a kiss, but we'll see.
"Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes" I called out to him. I was wearing a cute little apron over my jeans and sweater, an outfit I took hours to decide on. If you looked in my closet you'd see a pile of discarded choices at least a foot thick. I'd have to re-hang all those items later. I pulled the rolls out of the oven, enjoying the unique and wonderful smell of fresh bread. "That smells great, doesn't it?" I called out. I dumped the rolls into a basket and wrapped them with a small thin towel, then put them on the table and looked over to the couch. He was obviously absorbed in an episode of The Walking Dead. He told me about the show on our last date and I thought that if he was that enthusiastic about it I should probably watch an episode too.
On the TV zombies were wandering down the street, following a police officer on a horse. As he evaded them he rounded a corner and almost ran into an entire group. "Ohh!" I squealed, shaken by the sudden appearance of all those decaying faces. If there's one rule of dating its never to be far away from your man during scary scenes. I quickly took off my apron and plopped down on the couch next to him. "This is scary!" I said, snuggling up to him. The officer was now crawling underneath a tank, firing his gun at the encroaching horde. I closed my eyes and buried my face in Gary's bicep, expecting some words of comfort and maybe an arm around my shoulder. Surprisingly he sat stoically, and a wave of panic filled me. Was I being too fast? Was I being uncomfortably forward? I pulled away, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment. Looking up, I searched his face to discern his emotion.
His eyes were caked with a thick yellow film. He sat robotically, not moving, not speaking. "Gary?" I called, shaking him. "What's going on, are you okay?" He didn't budge and I moved away cautiously. "What's wrong with your eyes?" Still he didn't answer, didn't react. I reached for my phone and realized it was over on the counter next to the oven. Standing up I back away carefully, staring at those thick terrifying eyes. The pale yellow substance covered his eyes and seemed to drip down his face, like thick melted wax.
I scooped my phone up and dialed 9-1-1. "Emergency services, how can I help you?" The female voice was calm yet confident and I struggled to find the words to describe my situation. "I think there's something wrong with my friend." I looked over at Gary, still sitting like a statue on the couch. "His eyes are covered in some yellow junk and he's not moving." I heard a clicking sound and a man's commanding voice came over the line. "How long has he been like this?" He asked. I looked at the clock and tried to remember when I put the rolls in. "I don't know, like 15- 20 minutes maybe?" The phone line went dead. "Hello?" I called out, a wave of panic rushing through me. "Hello?" I looked at my phone which said "no service" and I smacked it in frustration. I looked back at the couch and saw Gary stand up. "Gary! Are you okay?" He turned my direction and I saw his face contorted into an animalistic snarl. "Gary?" I whispered quietly and felt tears rolling down my face as he tore across the room toward me. This wasn't the make out session I had hoped for...
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