I lived in Australia for a few months and I worked at a Vietnamese bistro. My co-workers were the greatest people ever, and I still keep in touch with them. My boss? My boss refuses to return my emails.
I didn’t realize that maybe I was on a date until he started to cut my food for me.
I excused myself and headed toward the bathroom. I pulled out my pre-paid Trak phone and frantically dialed my roommate’s number.
“Sorry. You are out of credit. Goodbye.”
I headed back to the table and sat down.
I get it. The tapas. The sangria. It’s all part of his elaborate plan.
"Maria, are you drunk?"
"I’m so glad we got to do this."
Looking around, “Yeah, how… did we end up doing this…?”
What I had agreed to was food after work. What I did not agree to was a drive into the city and a fine dining experience with my boss that kept asking me if I was drunk.
"Are you sure? You seem kind of drunk."
"No, nope. That’s stupid."
After dinner he brought me to a club, because clubs are the best place to bring a drunk girl who clearly doesn’t want to be hanging out with you.
The club just turned into one big game of hide-and-seek. I would hide and he would hit on other girls until I came back.
Throughout the date, he revealed that he has a DUI.
So, a police checkpoint would be the worse way to end this makeshift date.
And that’s exactly what happened. We passed through the checkpoint where he had to blow.
I could tell he was extra nervous. Partly because he had a couple of drinks at dinner. Mostly because I kept saying, “Oh my god, you’re going to jail.”
He didn’t go to jail, thank God.
But as he dropped me off, I asked for the money he was illegally paying me under the table.
He fumbled around looking for the envelope with my money in it for a few minutes, until it dawned on me that he spent all my money on dinner and at the club.
And I had spent most of it tipping that bartender that called him an asshole.
It was the the date from down under.
And by “down under”, I mean hell.