The Good, the Bad, and the Fugly

Story Sent in by Robert:

While sitting on a park bench on our first date, Kay and I went from telling each other funny stories about our families to showing each other photos of said families. Kay flipped through photos on my phone from last Thanksgiving when she stopped at a picture of my older sister and broke into hysterics.

I glanced at the photo. It was a candid shot of my sister smiling across the table at someone. Kay said, "Oh my god. Who's this?"

"My sister, Miranda."

Kay laughed and said, "She's really fugly!"

I like Miranda, and so I said, "Thanks..." and reached for my phone.

Kay shifted away with it and kept flipping through. "Oh my god!" she went on, "Who's this?"

She had pulled up a photo of my younger sister, Adrienne. She barked, "She's even fuglier!"

I grabbed my phone back and said, "Okay. That's enough about my fugly family."

Kay said, "Don't feel bad. You're not fugly. I guess the fugly gene only slams the women, huh?"

"I don't think they're fugly–"

"You know what this means? Your daughters will probably be fugly. You're a carrier. Can I see that photo of Miranda, again? It was hysterical. I want to make it my wallpaper."

I refused her and she asked three more times. I suggested we go for dinner and she said, "I'll go to dinner with you in exchange for that Miranda photo. I'll even pay."

While I was tempted for a moment, I decided not to sell my respect for my sister for a free dinner. Kay and I never wound up going out again, and I never told Miranda this story.

However, I know that she reads this blog, so where things will go from here I can't say.