Daniel

Every Friday night, my church held a youth group, and the only reason I went was to get away from my fighting parents. It was alright, but there was this annoying red-head named Daniel who liked to follow me around. My friends always laughed and teased, saying I'd end up as his girlfriend, and I would roll my eyes.

When I was Nineteen, Daniel asked me on a date, and after some consideration, I accepted. We had a picnic in a park near our church, and each brought food. He brought wine, but the smell of alcohol repulsed me, so I refused when he offered me a glass.

We talked and laughed about times in youth group, like when we had a watermelon eating competition. Much to my surprise, it was going well, and I was almost ready to ask if he wanted to meet again next week.

"What are your dreams for the future," Daniel smiled.

"I want to get a degree in social work then start a foundation to help people who are grieving and disabled people. What about you?"

"I want a family and have a stay at home wife with five or six kids. Do you want kids?"

Alarm bells were going off in my head, but I thought I'd wait to see where this was going.

"No, I don't want kids, and honestly, I'm not sure if I want to get married either."

"Well, that's okay, you'd make a terrible mother, and you don't have good birthing hips either."

"Excuse me! You don't know me, and you will never get to know me either. If you ever have kids, I hope you teach your sons to be more respectful than you. Then teach your daughter that she is allowed to choose what she wants to do with her body. Goodbye, Daniel."

I picked up my stuff and went home. My friend Gabrielle called me, and we went out for dinner that night, and I told her about my horrendous date. We laughed our heads off and enjoyed our burritos and hot chocolate's.

Over the years, Gabrielle tried to set me up with different guys, but no one was worth a second date. Their ideal women were supermodels with big boobs, and their conversation was limited to what brand of lingerie they thought I should wear.

Now in my late twenties, I sat across from an empty seat, waiting for my blind date to show up. The waiter came by and refilled my glass, and they enquired if I was ready to order. I felt humiliated. It's been two and a half hours, and the guy hasn't even called, but Gabrielle convinced me to wait.

Another ten minutes went by, and I decided to order food, but then a tall guy came and sat with me.

"Daniel, are you my date?"

"I'm sorry I'm late, the traffic was terrible. How have you been?"

"Pardon me, are you ready to order now?"

"Can you give us another ten minutes?"

My stomach growled, and I was ready to leave and go home to eat if we didn't order.

"Certainly," replied the waiter in a forced voice.

I sighed and tried not to lose my patience as Daniel hymn and hawed over the menu.

"Please hurry up, I am hungry."

"Oh, I ate recently," he grinned.

"I came here straight from work, I didn't know I'd be waiting this long for food."

Daniel put the menu down and gestured for the waiter to come over. I ordered a stirfry, and Daniel ordered an apple and brie, chicken sandwich with a glass of merlot. The waiter brought the wine over right away and refilled my water glass again.

"How have you been, Skye?"

"I'm doing well. How have the last couple of years been for you?"

"Working hard saving up so I can move out of my brother's house. I'm almost there, then I'll be able to get my own place soon."

I took a sip of water and started to plan my conversation with Gabrielle later tonight.

"Sounds like you're doing well."

"Yeah, and I was happy when Gabrielle said she knew the perfect girl for me. I didn't know you changed your mind about kids, this is fantastic news! You'll have to read some parenting books, of course, but you'll be a great mom and-"

"Stop talking! I don't want kids, and I don't know why Gabi set us up. You are still one of the most sexist guys I know, and I don't have time to waste reiterating what I told you ten years ago."

I picked up the glass of merlot and swished it around, then poured it on his head.

"Well, I definitely won't be calling you for a second date."

"I wouldn't have even come had I known it was you. Goodbye, Daniel."

"Wait, Skye, please!"

I walked away and stopped the waiter carrying my food before I left the restaurant. They turned around and packed it up for me as I paid, then drove home.