FriDATE: A Fake Person

I’m a sucker for dirty white people doing bluegrass music.  It makes me feel like home in the Ozarks.

 

Sometimes People ask me on dates.  They see me online.  Maybe they think I’m the solution to their life’s problems, or loneliness.  Invariably I prove them wrong:

Him: Hey, OMG I can’t believe it.

Me:  Thanks?  What happened?  Are my horns showing?

Him:  What? I was going to say I can’t believe it’s the Pie man.

Me:  I was making a joke, a bad joke, about me being Jewish.

Him:  Are you Jewish?

Me:  No.

(pause)

Me:  It just occurred to me to say it.  I thought it would be funny.  It’s my job to say and do funny things, so I kind of blurt out inappropriate stuff sometimes.  Sorry, if I offended you…  Are you Jewish?

Him:  No, but I could have been.  What if they heard you?

Me:  Who?

Him:  The Jews?

Me:  The Jews? Every Jewish person in the world?

Him:  No, but if someone was Jewish.

Me: Someone probably is.  I said it was inappropriate.  I’m sorry.  You’re super cute, pal.

Him:  Ugh.  I’m ugly today.

Me:  Nah.  You’re cute.

Him:  Thanks, are those real glasses?

Me:  Not in the slightest.  Well, I mean.  They’re real.  They’re made of glass and plastic.

Him:  Where did you get them?

Me:  I had an affair with someone who left them at my house.

Him:  Oh Jesus…  And you co-opted his look?

Me:  Er…  I guess so.  I guess I did.  I kind of just like putting on costumes and being other people.  I’m an actor too.

Him: Ugh.  Actors.

Me:  Tell me about it.  Oh you just did.  Just kidding. (pause)   Stop it,  I’m just kidding.  So you’re into pies, you said?

Him:  I have to be honest.  I  kind of hate that the glasses are fake.

Me:  Why?

Him:  Because it means that you’re a fake person.

Me:  No, I mean why do you have to be honest?  We live in a SOCIETY.  We can’t afford to start being HONEST with each other all the sudden.

(pause)

Me:  This is bad news.  I thought I was real.  I thought I was a real person.  I better tell my mother.

Him:  Shut UP.  I mean…  well, look at me.  I wear glasses.

Me:  Are they FAKE?

Him:  No, I need them.  They’re real.  And that’s a handicap.  So when you wear them it’s like you’re making fun of me.

Me:  No.  It’s not.

Him:  Yes, it kind of is.

Me:  I don’t put on my glasses and think to myself, this will really fuck with the heads of people who wear real glasses.  I don’t have any malice toward people who wear glasses.  I think it’s sexy, kind of, and I feel sexy in the glasses, oddly enough.  Can’t a homo feel sexy, once in a while?  I didn’t even seek them out.  They quite literally fell in my lap.  See what I did there?

Him:  You think you’re funny but you’re not.

Me:  Thanks.  I’d prefer if you said ‘That joke’s not funny. It doesn’t work.’  Please don’t tell me I’m not funny.

Him:  Oh really.

Me:  Yes really.

Him:  Why not?

Me:  Here’s why:  What do you do?

Him:  I’m a nurse.

Me:  Okay.  Now pretend you’re me for a second.  Ready?

Him:  Okay.

Me:  You’re a terrible nurse.  You let your patients die all the time and you rape people in comas.

Him:  What?  That’s not true.

Me:  And even if it was, it wouldn’t be for me to say.  I haven’t watched you work.  I don’t know that to be true.  That’s what you do when you call a comic unfunny.  If you’re going to call me unfunny, come see my show first.  Did you think it was funny when I said you rape people in comas?

Him:  No.  There’s problems with that, at hospitals, sometimes.  Rarely.  I’ve heard of that.  That’s not funny.

Me:  Well, you say potato –  I say hilarious.  So, hey, you really are super cute.

Him:  I don’t like that you brought up rape on the subway platform.

Me:  What?  It’s a perfect place to rape someone.  Besides – nobody’s listening, except all the Jews in the world.

Him:  Take those glasses off.

Me:  I don’t think I will, but thanks for the feedback.

Him:  Come on, just take them off.

Me: No.  Wait, okay. I will.  If you kiss me, right here.

Him:  What?  No.

Me:  Okay, so the glasses stay on then.

(long uncomfortable pause)

Surprise Ending:  I didn’t get a kiss.  I stopped wanting one, though.

Just give me my damn antibiotics,  RIGHT AID.  Stop trying to link my corporate success with your pharmacy.

Enjoy your weekend, Jerks.