Two dates with Eric had gone by when he asked me over to his house to make s'mores in his fireplace. It was the dead of winter, and nothing sounded more fun. He said he'd buy all the ingredients. All I had to do was show up.
Show up I did, in the middle of a snowstorm. I hadn't been to his house before, and I was impressed by how big it was. There were at least three rooms I'd count as living rooms, there was art all over the walls, and even a curving master staircase. I had no idea that he was that well-off.
"You ready for some s'mores?" he asked me. I really was, he led me into one of his living rooms, where the fireplace was already up and running. On a table before the fireplace was a full spread of roasting sticks and... wait. That's not graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate...
"I thought we'd go for something healthier," he said.
It was a full spread of sliced cucumbers and bell peppers. That was it. We were going to roast veggies. And roast veggies do not a s'more make.
Let me be clear that I don't have a problem with vegetables, or with Eric's generosity in providing them. It's just that when I'm promised dessert and you show up with a salad, it's going to be a letdown.
I sucked it up and pretended to really enjoy the veggies. I wanted to have a good time with him, and that's really what it was all about, right?
"Eat as many as you want," he told me as he slow roasted a stack of cucumber slices over the fire. It wasn't too long before I had to find a bathroom, and to my sort-of-embarrassment, I had to ask for directions to get there.
When I came back, imagine my surprise when I found him making an actual s'more! Graham crackers, marshmallows, chocolate, the works!
"This was all a trick?" I asked him with a too-big smile on my face, ready to dig into the good stuff.
He said, "Actually, these are really just for me. Can't have you getting fat."
On my way home, I stopped at a convenience store, bought all the ingredients, and made s'mores in my apartment microwave.
And they were delicious.
Oh, it looks like we have the dinner whore's desert lovin' cousin in our midst - the s'more whore. Men with lots of art on the walls and curving master staircases do not date fat bitches. Eric saw that the OP has fat ass potential and decided to nip that shit. He's a hero really but do you see anyone throwing him a parade?
ReplyDeleteSince I hate s'mores (yes.) and fireplace roasted salad fixins, I would have thrown Eric in the fire instead. Fire needs oxygen to live!!!!!!!!!1111
Ten bucks says it wasn't his house, but that his rich second cousin's husband and she were on vacation and he was there to "water the plants."
ReplyDeleteHey, I think you accidentally deleted the paragraph where she punched him in the face. Because that totally happened.
ReplyDeleteS'less.
ReplyDeleteYou should probably bail right away once you find out a guy is stupid enough to try roasting cucumbers.
ReplyDeleteAll I can picture is Stephen King's Overlook Hotel and Jack Nicholson with an ax. "Here's S'MORES!"
ReplyDelete