Part 1

Now I’m not one that likes to snoop, or at least get caught snooping when doing it, but in this case the phone kept vibrating again and again as text message after text message kept getting sent. It became obnoxious and forced me into reaching for it to silence it and when I did that the phone opened and let me read the whole damn message being sent on repeat. Each one read, “Time to call it, your exit portal will be expiring in an hour otherwise you will be late.”

The dating game is a tough game, but so far the dates with Shirley had been surprisingly easy, like we were best friends from the start, but now I had maybe read the worst message ever sent in the history of date texts to help somebody bail. My mind drifted, calculating my steps, trying to remember where exactly I had went wrong on the last three dates over these recent weeks.

Date one we met at small coffee shop on the outskirts of town that had some amazing espresso served in in tiny porcelain cups next to a crystal glass filled with sparkling mineral water. We shared and discussed our love for coffee, and extended the date well into the evening as we decided to sample every baked good the shop offered. Fortunately for me, the barista was a buddy of mine and after already serving us free drinks he dug into the bag of day old baked goods he normally saved for me—he even nuked them up and served them on a nice plate.

Date two we met at the zoo and walked around pointing out our favorite animals and discussing our careers and where we saw ourselves one day. She saw nothing wrong with me floating between a set of pizza delivery boy jobs in my attempts to become a travel writer that lived off of hotel freebies and small payments from publishing companies and websites, in all honesty I already had the living off of hotel freebies part down in my life. This was also the date where she told me she was a doctor, which was the exact moment I immediately felt like my choice to smoke as much weed as possible and read self-help books really didn’t replace a college education like I thought. Somehow, maybe through sheer will to charm and listen, she kissed me lightly on my cheek in the parking lot after walking her to her car.

Date three was when things got a little hairy. I was getting to the point where cheap dates, meaning free, were getting harder and harder to plan for. We met Saturday night at the amusement park a bit outside of the city. By getting on the early afternoon bus the day before I was able to arrive around two o’clock and wait in the parking lot until some kind individuals leaving gave me their ticket stubs. This amusement park had an awesome special written on all their ticket stubs that stated, “After three next day free.” The next night’s date went as planned. We rode all the rollercoasters to avoid the arcades, danced to a bluegrass band to steer her attention away from the smell of waffle cones, and rode the ridiculously long and slow boat ride for a bit of time to chat and just hold hands.

Date four’s idea turned into a doozie when she texted me to ask about my dream to become a travel writer, getting me to think about what parts of the job would be the best to experience and write about. I told her about my love for fine dining and how I wanted to be able to go around the world tasting some of the finest dishes offered by the best chefs. Now what I really meant to focus on was that I wanted to actually try fine dining, but she took it as fine dining was one of my favorite activities. As soon as I had hit the send button she called me and asked me to go to Franco’s with her. Franco’s was a fancy restaurant on the top floor of a fancy building downtown. It was named after Franco Columbo, the bodybuilder. I was pretty sure that the owner was a huge fan of Franco’s and even sought him for chiropractic care when his back gave out for trying to deadlift as much as his idol did. Anyways, after hearing her sultry voice on the phone, my brain was forced into the backseat at gunpoint by my balls while my dick hopped into the driver seat pulling the strings on my mouth and making it utter a very enthusiastic, “Sounds great! How about Friday night?”