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“So, I went on a date with this girl in college who was absolutely obsessed with Marie Antoinette. She didn’t wear wigs or anything, but she always wore corset tops and ruffles and her dorm room was decorated like Versailles, if you can believe that. I have no idea what I was thinking, but she’d flirted with me and I agreed to grab a drink with her. We ended up back at her place in this bed that she’d tried to make into a canopy with this massive gold comforter and she wanted me to say ‘let them eat cake’ while we were having sex.”
As soon as I started to tell the story, I realized this was the wrong story to tell, but it was too late and I couldn’t back out, so I just… kept going. I finished and snuck a look at her. She had her mouth open.
“And you didn’t go on a second date?” she said, in feigned shock.
“Sadly no. The sex was good, but not good enough to put up with the rest of her shenanigans. I pretty much ghosted her and we never saw each other again. I wonder whatever happened to her. I’m not sure if I want to know.”
One of my strangest dates for sure. I still couldn’t believe it had actually happened.
“I bet she’s really boring now. Or she’s in deeper than ever. It’s one of the two extremes,” Esme said.
“Exactly.”
“In the spirit of sharing bad dates, how about I share one?” she said, and I almost tripped and fell. I knew next to nothing about her dating life. She kept it pretty quiet somehow.
“Do tell,” I said.
Esme took a breath. “Okay, so, I met this guy online. He seemed cool, and after talking for a while, we agreed to meet at a coffee place. He’d clearly tinkered with his pictures, which, whatever. But then when we were talking I realized this was definitely not the same guy I’d been talking to online. I didn’t know who he was, but he wasn’t my date. So, I tested him and told him things that weren’t true about me and he was all like ‘oh yeah, right.’ He was full of shit, but I wasn’t sure how to confront him. I just kept drinking coffee and waiting for him to crack. It actually didn’t take that long. He got a call on his phone and went completely red and then went outside to take it. I kept my eye on him, but after talking for a few minutes outside, he literally bolted. Ran away. Gone.”
I literally wouldn’t have believed this story if someone else had told me about it. Who the hell would run away from Esme? WHO?
“Wow,” I said. “That’s… wow.”
“Exactly. So I sat there and tried not to cry and then I got up and went to order something to eat because I was starving after all that coffee and the baristas had figured out what happened so they gave me a bunch of free shit because they felt bad. And I got all their numbers so, who won in the end?”
She smirked at me.
Now that part I could believe.
We’d reached the end of the beach, so we turned and walked back the other way, talking about more bad dates. It wasn’t hard to share things with Esme. I was also curious about her current dating practices, so I was hoping she’d open up about that.
“I don’t know. Everyone acts like dating is supposed to be so fun and easy, but I’d just like to skip to arguing about the paint color on the kitchen cabinets instead. I want to be married,” she said.
My heart thumped heavily in my chest.
“You can’t really get to the marriage part without the dating part, unless you are willing to skip a bunch of steps. I mean, there are people who get married when they barely know each other, but that’s not generally advisable,” I said.
We both shuddered.
“Yeah, I don’t think I want to do that,” she agreed with a laugh.
Esme and I walked and walked until our suits dried and then we went back to our towels. The day grew hotter and I could feel my skin starting to crisp, so I did another layer of sunscreen and so did she.
“Do you want me to get your back?” she asked.
“Yeah, sure,” I said, my voice squeaking. Why was I making such a big deal of this? I needed to calm down.
Esme took her time rubbing the lotion onto my back, making sure to move the straps of my suit so she didn’t miss a spot. I sat there and tried not to freak out about the fact that she was touching me.
Too soon she said, “all done” in my ear and I turned my head to find her closer than I expected.
“Thanks.”
She smiled and handed the sunblock bottle back. “Can you do me?”
Esme pulled her hair over her shoulder and presented me her back.
For a second, I forgot how to use my hands and dropped the sunblock before fumbling to pick it up at least three times. At last, I got it open and squirted some into my hand.
