Stood Up

I was stood up. No big deal. No problem at all. I’m not feeling bad about it because I’m assuming my date was violently mugged and kidnapped in the subway by a clown posse who brought him to Nicaragua then forced him to wear a sequined onesie and coral lipstick while performing Jennifer Grey’s moves from the final scene in Dirty Dancing on repeat until the end of time.

I should have known he was lame after her referred to me as “kiddo” in all of his messages. It’s a patronizing way to refer to anyone that is not an actual child.

Granny offered up a gem in condolence, “Better he stands ya up now, than at the alter.” So true, so true.

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