SAA Ep.# 53: Worst. Date. Ever.

Yesterday, I looked nice.  Cute dress.  Snazzy jewelry.  Nice shoes.  Meh hair (My hair was supposed to be all cute, but it refused to cooperate and I had to put it in the "bun of shame."  I do not like the bun of shame).  I even painted my toenails.  It happens occasionally.  All of this was because I went to a wedding for two of my friends.  Two of my friends got married.  To each other (a guy and a girl, FYI).  Aww.  Good times.

I knew that the bridesmaids were all going to be wearing an autumnal shade of red, so I opted to wear a nice chocolate brown dress.  When I got to the wedding, I noticed that the ushers, groomsmen, oh, and also the groom, were all wearing handsome chocolate brown suits.  So yeah.  I thought I was being clever by not matching the bridesmaids, and I ended up matching the groomsmen. 

The ceremony was lovely.  I helped serve desserts and cut cakes at the reception.  Actually, I think a more descriptive term for what I did to those poor cakes might be "massacre."  There's a reason--several reasons really--why people shouldn't let me play with knives.

After the happy couple drove off in their shrink wrapped and whipped cream covered car, I helped clean up the room where the reception was held.  Wedding aftermath is ridonkulous, but it went by quickly.  The couple who got married are such awesome people that they have a LOT of friends who wanted to help, so it actually took less than an hour.  I mean, in the world of cleaning up after weddings, that's like a record.

When we were done cleaning up, I found myself standing in the parking lot, chatting with one of the ushers and one of the wedding guests.  Both of them were guys.  We stood there for an hour until we realized that our chat could be taken to a better venue--like perhaps some place with food and/or a functional restroom.  Since it just so happened to be the usher's birthday, I suggested we go out to eat somewhere.  And since we are all poor, he settled on Taco Bell.

We drove separately.  I arrived at the same time as the usher, but the other guy apparently didn't know any of our awesome short cuts from the church to Taco Bell.  Seriously...who doesn't have a map in their heads that charts the best possible routes (and back up routes) from any given point to the nearest Taco Bell?  Anyway, my friend and I entered the restaurant to wait for our friend.

As he opened the door for me, my friend said, "Wow.  I'll bet people think we're on a date."

I said, "I got all snazzed up and you took me to Taco Bell.  This is the Worst. Date. Ever."

That would have only been mildly funny, but at that exact moment, one of the moms and kids I know from the drop-in center where I work walked by.  Since someone I knew well enough to be embarrassed in front of, yet not well enough to be able to just play it off, had heard my "Worst. Date. Ever." comment, it made that comment about 25 gazbillion times funnier.  I tried to make some small talk with the mom and the kid, but she kept giving us "the look."  If you don't know what "the look" is, let me know and I'll write a blog about it sometime.  Then she got her food and said, smiling, "You two have fun."  "You two" of course, referred to me and my "date."

When our Taco-Bell-Directionally-Challenged friend finally made it to Taco Bell, we were standing there trying to laugh off the awkwardness.  The late arriver offered to pay for my "date's" dinner, since it was his birthday.  So, he got a free meal, and I had to pay for mine.  Worst. Date. Ever.  To make matters worse, there was some kind of inexplicable hold-up at the cash register when I went to place my order (the guys went first--Worst. Date. Ever.).  So I stood in line for about five minutes AFTER they'd already gotten their food.  I'm not sure what the hold-up was.  I'm pretty sure the cashier was on some kind of prescription medication, or perhaps she needed to be on some.  At any rate, the guys went and sat down while I stood there.  Waiting.  My "date" eventually came and stood beside me so I wouldn't have to wait by myself, but I think it was at the other guy's suggestion.  Really.  Worst. Date. Ever.

After I got my food (because I personally had to go pick it up--Worst. Date. Ever.), we did the typical Taco Bell activities.  We rejoiced over the fact that there are approximately 53 different flavors of Mountain Dew available at the soda station.  We exulted over the existence of sporks (the world is just a happier place with sporks).  We played with the salsa and sauce packets with their pithy sayings.  And in all actuality, it wasn't a bad "date" at all.

Then my "date" started singing.  Out loud.  In a restaurant.  Which might sound like a bad thing, but it wasn't like Will Ferrell in "Elf" when he started going, "I'm SINGING!  I'm in a store and I'm SINGING!"  He was actually singing well.  And to me.  And I said, "Well, this date just got a little better."  Then I went and threw my own trash away and drove myself home, thus ending the Worst. Date. Ever.  Aww.

To be honest, I'm the sort of girl who would prefer a Taco Bell date to a fancy dinner.  Taco Bell isn't my favorite, but there's always Sonic.  You know that Sonic commercial with the guy who's like, "YOU'RE A CHEAP DATE!"?   Yeah, that's so me.  My idea of a fancy restaurant is Applebee's.  My idea of a REALLY fancy restaurant is Olive Garden.  I mean, they even have cloth napkins!  Not that cloth napkins are a foreign idea to me; I typically spend time with people who think their shirt sleeves make excellent napkins.  But I digress...

Sometimes I wonder why a girl like me is still single.  I figure most guys would want a girl on whom they didn't have to spend a fortune.  But I think most of them expect to have to do that, so girls like me just confuse them.  See, when you really get down to it, I'm the sort of girl who's so low-maintenance that I'm high-maintenance.  Yeah, I'll just let you think that one out for a while.

Incidentally, I do remember my actual Worst. Date. Ever.  I went on a blind date with some guy who almost got us kicked out of the theater because he was throwing Gobstoppers at the screen.  Thus ended my short-lived career as a blind-dater.
Hmm.  I definitely much prefer the fake Worst. Date. Ever.s to the real Worst. Date. Ever.s.  In fact, I highly recommend them.