Speed Date: McDonald’s

I haven’t been out on the speed-date-scene since my visit to Home Depot, and to be perfectly honest, I haven’t had the mojo.

Nevertheless, I found myself in speed-date-mode earlier in the week (what can I say? “sometimes love chooses us“)…

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Subject: Speed Date
Case-File: #00D4R63003
Location: McDonald’s
Time: 2 days ago, 12:30h
Emotional State: Caught-off guard…

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…This time around I didn’t get all ”hussied up”, nor did I orchestrate a supposedly random “run-in”.

This time, I didn’t even see it coming…

…It was Monday at work, and thank-frickin’-goodness, lunch-time was upon us.

I was two days removed from a night of regretful drunkenness (which resulted in loads of puking), and still just a bit hungover.

With my current-state in mind, my stomach was in need of some serious McDonald’s. 

I normally try to keep my McDonald’s trips to a minimum.  I have nothing against McDonald’s on a calorie-level, but knowing how many chicken tumours, monkey-butts and feces are in my food, well…I try to avoid it.

On this day though, I didn’t even care about the questionable quality of the food (or the disease-ridden teenagers slapping it together).  The only thing that mattered was getting some greasy food to cure my alcoholic-stomach.

So I grabbed a couple “co-worker boys”, and off we went to the Golden Arches…

…At 12:30pm, the line-up was big and the folks were diverse; you had your 9-5ers, your high-school ‘ho’s, and your smelly old men—a representative cross-section of bustling Canadiana.

I ordered my nine McNuggets (no, not six, nine) and hustled on over to the corner table.  All I wanted was for me and my friends to gobble in peace, away from the teens and seniors.

Things were going smoothly enough, but as I started to work on nugget #3, I saw him:

-He was a brown-haired angel in a shirt and tie.  He looked innocent, delectable…and young.

He wasn’t “illegal” young, but more like a student on an office work-term (like maybe 19 or 20).  I don’t really mind the younger breed of men, as they’re usually fresh and wild…

…As for me, I didn’t look my best, but I still know how to “work it” on-demand, so I focused on my strengths of the moment:

#1. 18 hours of vomiting had sunk-in my face, and brought out my cheekbones.

#2. I’d been picking my crusty lips all morning, to the point that they were now red and juicy.

Suddenly feeling confident, I was ready to make a move, and that’s when I saw my “co-worker boys” sitting next to me.

Their presence was a fortified wall of ”cock-blockage”, encircling the entire table.

I didn’t know how to get rid of them, so I simply started yelling at them loudly (something about hating their faces and souls); that way, angel-boy would know that neither was my serious lover.

Once my single-status was loud and clear, I put on my game-face and got to work.

Every now and then I’d catch his eye, but I needed him to NOTICE me.  I wasn’t too keen on pulling down my shirt or licking my lips, because there’s more than enough of that in his ”19-20″ age group.

Instead, I wanted him to know what an older woman can give.

But wait: what would that even be?

I was miffed and alarmed that I didn’t have an answer, but suddenly it hit me: older women can offer a home, a marriage, and eternity.  Even though my angel-boy was young and perhaps “unfettered”, I knew he’d appreciate the comfort of forever.

So I had the answer, but I needed a way to show him.

Here’s what I did:

-I finished the last of my nuggets, but I had some extra dipping sauce.  Normally I use it on my fries, but those were already long gone.  This is the part where a stupid young chick would’ve thrown out the sauce, but ROMI used her straw to suck the extra sauce from the package, every last spec.  This was a killer move, because it sent angel-boy the following memo:

-I do NOT waste food.  I will ALWAYS find a use for food, and that’s a good thing to know, because if (and when) the economy crumbles (reverting us back to “food rations”), I will be the wife who always made the most of the least, and never let the family starve.

So now that angel-boy knew the safety I could offer, it was time for me to score a date.

I had already done all the work, so I thought I should wait for HIM to ask.

I waited as he finished his drink, and then a little bit more as he gathered his trash and took it to the bin.  At that point, I decided to follow.

He went outside, and started to walk away.

By now I could see that he was nervous; he would only ask me out when he was ready.

So I had to keep following.

Eventually we made it to his office, which sits across the street from mine.

I didn’t have a security badge,  so I wasn’t allowed inside.  He didn’t look my way, but I assume he had an important meeting, because he scrambled for the elevator, and hit the “close door” button as fast as humanly possible.

I guess that means he’ll talk to me tomorrow, or next week, or you know….when he’s ready.

Well at least I know where to find him…