Home away from home, that place.
Young little boy and girl walked in awkward as can be. It's obvious they are on their first date. She's using her fake high pitch voice, he's being super polite and asking all sorts of questions. I can hear everything.
I really felt akward just listening. I can't imagine being on the actual date. They resorted to "The Favorites Game". He was trying super hard to make conversation and she just wasn't having it.
Him: Okay, tell me about school.
Her: School is okay. I like it.
Him: What about work? Where do you work?
Her: I only had one job, but now I just go to school.
Him: Oh, that's cool. Where did you work?
Her: Taco Time.
Hiim: Oh. Uhhh, what kind of food do you like?
Her: All kinds.
Him: Uhhhh, what's your favorite dessert?
Dessert? Really? You don't really care about her favorite dessert. And to be honest, you probably don't care where she went to school or where she is working. All you care about is hopefully getting a smooch from this young, cute, completely innocent girl. That's it. So, tell her that. Maybe she'll smooch you and we can avoid the awkwardness of this entire date. And I can focus my attention back to studying neonatal complications.
p.s. He asked when she graduated. Her response "2010". TWENTY-TEN. All the sudden I felt 100 years old, and even older knowing I have a birthday in just 3 weeks.
p.p.s. Three weeks, people. Let's formulate a birthday plan. ASAP.
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