Date Stories, J

J: On a Wild Chicken Chase

Context: This is NOT a date story. This is a pre-date story, also known as why I’m never trusting my friend A – or taking her to Popeye’s – ever, ever again.

It’s beach season, my friends. Yep, after months of treating blankets like clothing and hiding your pale, flabby white body under Michelin-Man coats, we will soon be required to emerge from our cocoons and brave the horrifying world of bathing suits.

Please, stop crying. We can get through this together.

As that fateful day approaches, my friends A and BP have joined me in a diet pact. We’re cutting out refined carbs, sugar, beer, and liquors that aren’t clear. We’re keeping tacos and tequila though, after reading this sage advice by our one and only fitness idol:

PREACH #AssLikeSerena2016

Last Thursday, two days into our diet, things started to get ugly. And not like, “oh my gosh, my hair looks soooo messy today!” ugly. Nah fam. This was like, ‘walking home from a one-night-stand, haven’t slept in two days, ratty-ass hair, eye makeup smeared all over’ ugly. A was sitting in our conference room, foaming at the mouth, mumbling unintelligibly and twitching. I got closer until I could make out what she was saying.
A – Fried chicken and biscuits fried chicken and biscuits ICE CREAM ICE  CREAM FRIED CHICKEN BISCUITS ICE CREAM



4:15 PM – I was pretty hungry myself, and my willpower had been tested when someone brought in an ENTIRE TRAY of cookies from a meeting, so I leaned over to A and suggested we get a move on. There’s a frozen yogurt store on the way to her apartment, and I was driving her home, so we decided to stop there. Frozen yogurt! Healthy, right? RIGHT?!?!

…maybe not…

5:00 – We leave Ye Mecca Of Frozen Treats. I had a date at 18th Street Lounge in Dupont at 6:30. I was toooootally gonna make it in time. Just had to swing by A’s apartment in East Falls Church, drop her off, and then I could get home. Perfe-
A – Can you take me to Popeye’s? I want Popeye’s!

Dammit. Ok, minor setback. But how long could it take to go to Popeye’s? It’s fast food, after all!


5:05 – We hit some seeeerious traffic. How unexpected! I’ve only lived in Northern Virginia for 22 years! Ha! Ha!
5:10 – We come to a blinking traffic light. A tells me to turn left onto this busy six-lane highway. FROM A BLINKING TRAFFIC LIGHT.


5:10:30 – I say HELL NO BITCH and instead turn left onto the side street that parallels the highway. A looks at me like I’m crazy and says I just added 10 minutes to our commute.
5:10:45 – Siri confirms A’s statement.
5:11 – I debate texting my date to tell him I’ll be late. I immediately forget to do this because texting while driving is bad. Also because I haven’t eaten carbs in two days and my brain is broken.
5:20 – A tells me to turn right. I pull into the right lane.
5:21 – I almost cause an accident as I remove both hands from the steering wheel and use them to strangle A.
5:21:05 – I almost cause a second accident as I move three lanes to the left (THE LEFT) over the span of two seconds.


5:27 – Target  spotted. We will now prepare for landing. Please fasten your seatbelts, secure your tray tables in the upright position, and stow all carry-on items under the seat in front of you. Put down that Sky Mall, Judy, you have ENOUGH of this… uh… whatever this is:

5:34 – After a series of precarious traffic maneuvers, I have finally parked in front of Popeye’s. I spot a Chick-Fil-A in the distance.
Should I eat dinner? All I’ve had since breakfast is that ice cream, and I’m going to have to rush out to my drinks date… eh, I can survive without food.
5:37 – A places order.
5:37:30 – A receives order. Wow, that is fast food!
5:39 – We’re back in the car. Cue ‘Energy.’ Drake will make sure we flyyyy home.


5:46 – I’ve been sitting at the same light for three light cycles. My stomach grumbles. A romantically feeds me a french fry. I tell her I hate her for making me do this. She feeds me two more. My anger fades.
5:49 – A and I pass a restaurant called ‘Viva Tequila.’ I seriously consider cancelling my date to get margaritas, but then remember that I actually like this guy and that would probably put a serious damper on out budding love.
5:50 – As if on cue, text from date.
E – Hey! I’m done with work, but my office is right the bar, so I’m ready whenever you get here!
J – Sorry I’ll be a little late! I got stuck in traffic taking some bitch* to Popeye’s.
E – Popeye’s?
J – …it’s exactly what it sounds like.

*Love you lots A!!!!!


6:10 – Drop A off at her apartment. Steal a fry before I allow her to leave the car. Speed away with screeching tires for dramatic effect. Somewhere in the distance my auto mechanic rubs his hands together greedily.
6:13 – Run a red light.
6:15-6:17 – Drive in the bike lane.
6:20 – Arrive home in record time. Text my date.
6:20-6:25 – Do anything BUT change, including but not limited to – using my hairbrush as a microphone, beginning a knitting project, NOT eating (mistake).
6:25-6:29 – Change.
6:30 – Leave just as my date is scheduled to begin. Text A and BP that I’m fulfilling the #wastehistime2016 ideology.
BP – You’re perfect.
A – Never change.


And change, I will not.

Except I might quit this damn diet really effing soon because I MISS CARBS.


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