Sometimes people ask me on dates. They tend to go horribly. These are their stories.
(Law and Order Sound Effect)
Him: Come home with me.
Me: No. Do you think this sweater is too heavy for the springtime?
Him: Come on. Come home with me.
Me: No. It’s late and you’re drunk and I’m not and I’m tired.
Him: Come home with me. We’ve been flirting with each other for a long time now. Come on.
Me: No. 9 months is a long time?
Him: Come on. (hails a cab) Get in the cab.
Me: No. I’m going home.
Him: Yes.
Me: Okay fine.
(Montage: Snuggly cab ride. Surprised cab driver. Deli visit for food and beer. Fumbling with keys.)
Him: Do you want a beer? I’m having a beer.
Me: Yes. I’m going to start drinking at 3 am. Good idea.
Him: Great, I’ll open you one.
Me: No, wait. I changed my mind.
Him: Fickle.
Me: More like, sarcastic.
Him: I like that.
Me: I like you.
Him: I know.
Me: Don’t worry. I don’t get weird. I let things develop naturally. We’ll have two kids, one Korean girl named Ellen, and one African boy, named Sh’Africa.
Him: Sounds like you’re telling Africa to be quiet.
Me: I’m not. I like the names Sean and Africa. Sh’Africa. If anything, I think Africa should be louder.
Him: Why?
Me: All that suffering? Isn’t there a lot of suffering and economic inequality?
Him: I’ve never been.
Me: Me neither. I’m operating on what I’ve read in liberal news media and what I’ve seen in movies like Congo.
Him: Take your coat off.
Me: Certainly. I’ll just throw it on the floor here.
Him: You’re funny.
Me: You’re pretty.
Him: Make out with me.
(We do.)
Him: Take your shirt off.
Me: Yessir.
(We take our shirts off. Bitchin’ make out session.)
Him: Take your pants off.
Me: Yessir
(We take our pants off. Bitchin’ make out session. It’s getting hard to contain ourselves. Get it?)
Him: Let’s get naked.
Me: How dare you. No, wait. I changed my mind again. That’s a great idea.
Him: Are you a bottom?
Me: What? Oh. Sex? Oh! Sex! Okay. Yes. No. I’m versatile. I’m the opposite of whatever your favorite thing to do is…
Him: Then you’re a bottom.
Me: I am indeed!
(We get naked. Bitchin’ make out session. Then, suddenly – he loses interest entirely. The evening goes limp.)
Him: I was afraid of this.
Me: What?
Him: I was afraid that this would happen. My penis stops working after a while.
Me: No! Stop it! It’s okay. Cut yourself some slack. You had a lot to drink. I watched you.
Him: No. What? No. I don’t have whiskey dick. Hahaha. No.
Me: What?
Him: I have a thing that happens. Once I get someone naked and it’s obvious that I can sleep with them, I lose interest.
Me: Heh. You’re funny.
Him: Please don’t make fun of me. It’s a real problem.
Me: I was going to say, why don’t we just go to sleep and give it a shot in the morning.
Him: Ha. Right. No.
Me: What?
Him: I think you should leave now.
Me: WHAT?
Him: It’s like this. I already got you naked. You already said you’d give me what I want. It’s kind of like I’ve already figured you out. I’m not going to be interested anymore.
Me: What? Heh. Ha. I uh… hm…
(He starts putting on clothes. He starts handing clothes to me. I start putting on clothes.)
Him: Yeah. It’s best if you just go home.
Me: I’m much farther away from home now than when you talked me into the cab.
Him: I’ll call you a car. You should go home.
Me: No. I’ll take the train. I should never have come here.
Him: Oh stop. I had fun.
Me: Yeah it was a blast. You’re a real great host. Thanks for having me over.
Him: It’s a real problem, okay? I have a problem with sex. I’d appreciate some sympathy.
Me: Awww… Sweet baby… Hey. I’m going to say something – please don’t take it the wrong way, okay?
Him: Okay.
Me: You’re an asshole. I don’t mean like self-absorbed like me and my comedy friends. I mean for real. You’re a real, true, asshole. I’m going to leave my card.
Him: What is this?
Me: I want you to check out my site, but wait a few days…
Him: Why?
Me: Because when people act like assholes on dates with me, I put it on the internet. Is that my coat? Thanks.
Him: What?
Me: Yeah! You’re famous! Congrats! And hey.
Enjoy playing mind games with someone else, Jerk.
(Surprise ending: I laughed about him the whole train ride home. I didn’t feel bad about myself.)
PIEFOLK 