“Well. Good bye then.” I tried to smile, but it turned out a grimace.
My date, whom I’d just dropped off, didn’t seem to notice. Mostly because she was looking everywhere but at my face. And no, it’s not because she was shy.
“I had a… unique time.” She said. I knew what that tone meant. I wasn’t getting a second date. I’d learnt to recognise that tone ever since I ventured into dating. Women seldom wanted to see me again.
“I’ll call you.” She said by way of custom. She didn’t even have my number.
“Sure” I muttered. Too bad. This one was actually pretty.
I was thirty one, and I was going home to nothing but an empty bachelors pad. When my fellow workers complained of marriage, I wanted nothing more than to punch them and their home-made lunches to pieces. Living by myself even after thirty was rather…. boring.
Who am I kidding. I’m utterly miserable.
Only, when I turned the door handle, I heard a decidedly masculine burp from inside.
There was someone in my house. Someone male, and rude, judging from the gastric outburst.
I held my umbrella with both hands and nudged the door open with my shoulder, preparing to strike.
Only to be greeted by a half- naked baby chugging what looked like alcohol while lying on my sofa. My once pure white sofa. Continue reading