Nechama and the Terrible. Horrible. No Good. Very Bad Date

I tripped on my heels as I came down the stairs and I bashed my shin as I climbed in his car and by mistake I called him Ta while trying to break the awkward silence and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad date.

When we arrived at the lounge, the other frum couples had already snagged the comfortable, secluded couches. We had to sit on creaky barstools between rowdy sports fans and a drunk old woman.

I said I was comfortable. I said the cheering and hooting didn’t bother me, not one bit. I said it was totally fine that the old woman pitched forward and spilled her drink all over my brand-new dress, it wasn’t really my color anyway.

I think I’ll run away to Arizona.