"I Hate Line Dancing"

(A story's beginning is the promise of its ending. Click here to find out why on this week's Jared's Inkwell! -JMG)

Story Sent in by Phil:

A little time spent on a dating site convinced me that my time would be better spent doing anything but. Case in point was Christy. She made it through the first round of emails and we met at a fun place for dinner. The plan was to go to a line dance afterward.

While at dinner, she told me, "I have a secret."

"What is it?"

She shook her head. "If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret."

"Okay. Will you eventually tell me?"

"Probably not. It's a secret."

I wasn't sure what kind of game she was playing, but I resigned myself to the fact that I'd never learn her stupid little secret.

When dinner was over she said, "I still have a secret."

"Feel like telling me what it is?"

"No. It's a secret."

"Fine."

After dinner, on our way out, again with, "I have a secret! Ask me what it is!"

"What is it?"

"It's a secret! I can't tell you!"

On our way to the line dance, she did the same thing twice more. It was really on my nerves. She turned out to be a good dancer, but at almost every opportunity, she whispered, "I have a secret! I have a secret!"

Finally I shouted, "What's your secret? Tell me or shut up about it!"

She said, "I'm not telling you, so you're the one who can shut up!"

I excused myself to "use the bathroom" but I left her there. The stupid waste of time that she was.